‘Pretty sure it was black. Dark, anyway.’
‘Would either of you be able to recognise him again?’ asked the DCI.
‘Nah. We didn’t see his face properly – did we Lloyd?’ he said, looking at his son, who shook his head.
Turning to the second man, DI Phillips asked ‘Do you have anything to add to what your father’s just told us?’
‘No. Wish I’d taken more notice now. Would’ve gone after the bastard if we’d known. We was more interested in findin the fish.’
‘Did you catch any fish then?’
‘Yeah man, we had a good night. He must of brought us luck.’ he laughed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He’d called a meeting for six and most of the team were gathered in the large Briefing Room as DCI Louis Brown entered, at exactly six o’clock. A hush fell over the room which had been alive with ribald banter before his entry.
He perched himself on the corner of a desk, outstretched legs crossed at the ankle. Absentmindedly rubbing his chin with one hand, he cleared his throat before announcing, ‘Just a brief update, everyone. DI Phillips has some information for us. James?’
James got to his feet, brushing his unruly sandy hair from his eyes, and gave a summary of the interview with Sir Ralph. By way of amusement, he described the lavish buffet at the Yacht Club, to get the team salivating.
‘Get on with it,’ Louis told him.
James told them Sir Ralph had seemed genuinely shocked when he worked out the identity of the victim. However, he had been unable to establish a solid alibi for the night in question. He’d said he’d been at home after an early-evening business meeting in Holetown and Lady McIntyre had assumed her husband was in bed when she returned from a dinner at eleven forty-five, but hadn’t actually seen him. Their maid confirmed that Sir Ralph had come home at around nine o’clock, and was still up when she went off to bed at ten.
‘So far, so good,’ continued James. We then interviewed their driver, Elvis, who told us that he’d driven Lady McIntyre to the Sandy Lane Hotel at seven, and then, later, he drove Sir Ralph back into Holetown. Just after ten. Elvis hadn’t mentioned this to Lady Arabella, as Sir Ralph had asked him to keep it to himself. He didn’t know where Sir Ralph was going; he dropped him off just outside the Lime Grove Centre in Holetown.
He’s to be formally interviewed again tomorrow. He’s coming down to the station with his solicitor,’ the DCI added, taking a sip of water.
‘We also had a chat with two fishermen, who came forward to tell us about a man they’d seen in the sea,’ said James, again pushing his stray locks off his face. He went on to summarise the interview with the fishermen. ‘So, if that was our man, we could be looking for a light-skinned, male, powerful build, short, dark hair, possibly wearing a black vest.’
‘Thanks, James. How did you get on with your informant, Dave?’ asked the DCI, turning to DC David Morgan.
Dave gave the gist of his conversation with his contact, and added ‘The information he’s given in the past has always been accurate.’
‘Interesting,’ said the DCI. ‘If it’s a visitor, we have to consider the possibility that it could be someone known to the victim. Did someone follow her out here? Or was it a random attack by someone who noticed an open door? Right, let’s continue with the interviews. Sooner we find the perp, the better. Thanks everyone. That’s it for now. Make sure the board’s updated.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
At a few minutes before midnight, DCI Brown took a call from Ron Fisher, the Duty Sergeant on night shift. Louis had been in a deep sleep and was not pleased to be woken by the shrill sound of his phone. He answered shortly, ‘Brown.’
‘Sorry to bother you at home, sir. Thought you might want to know. One of the off-duty PC’s arrested a man tonight. He happened to be passing a house, near Prospect, and heard a woman screaming. She’d been assaulted by an intruder. He caught her assailant as he tried to run away. The perp is one Leroy Barrow. He’s got form for rape. Just got out six months ago. Coming so soon after the assault on Carol Barrington, I thought you would want to be kept informed.’
‘Get him into the Interview Room, and I want DI Phillips there too,’ barked the DCI. ‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes.’
‘I’ve already called him, sir. He’s on his way in.’
Brown bumped into Phillips in the corridor and they went into the Interview Room together. The interview got underway and Leroy Barrow, who was accompanied by the duty solicitor appointed to represent him, immediately admitted to being in the house in question.
‘I only broke into that house cos I was runnin short a splifs and needed some dollars.’ He put his hands out, palms up, in an open gesture, intended to illustrate his innocence. ‘I didn’t hurt that lady, man, only pushed her outa my way when she tried to stop me leaving with the dollars. Didn’t expect to bump into any of you lot as I’m leavin.’
Leroy was young and cocky and trying to give a good impression of being guilty of nothing worse than getting money for drugs.
‘You pushed her so hard she fell and broke her arm. That’s assault, Leroy,’ interjected DI Phillips.
‘Aww man, I didn’t mean her no harm.’
Barrow seemed to realise he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one and he asked for a few minutes alone with the duty solicitor. When they reconvened, his solicitor informed them his client would plead guilty to breaking and entering but not to assault, as the victim’s fall was an accident.
DCI Brown instructed his Duty Sergeant to formally charge Barrow with both offences.
After Leroy had been taken down to the cells, Louis and James discussed the possibility of there being a connection between the assault and the attack on Carol Barrington.
‘There’s no evidence. Nothing to tie him to the attack on Carol Barrington,’ said James. ‘But I think it would be prudent to question him about it.’
‘I agree. I didn’t want to confuse the two issues tonight. We’ll get him remanded tomorrow, and then find out what his movements were on the night Carol Barrington was attacked.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The following morning, through his office window, Louis caught sight of Sir Ralph and, presumably, his solicitor as they approached the station. Sir Ralph looked worried, as well he might. He’d been asked to come to the police headquarters to answer further questions, this time under caution. They made an odd-looking couple as they walked along Roebuck Street, in the bright sunlight.
The contrast in height was almost comical. Sir Ralph, at about six two, immaculate in fawn coloured chinos, white shirt and brown tie, towered above the other man, who was all of five feet three on tiptoe, and scruffy to boot, his greasy hair curling around his shoulders, touching the collar of his ill-fitting brown jacket.
Louis and James left them to cool for a while, before entering the interview room and introducing themselves. Sir Ralph’s solicitor was standing, his back to them, gazing out of the window. Sir Ralph was already seated at the table in the middle of the small, bare room. James had deliberately selected this small, stuffy room, where the air-conditioning was suspect at the best of times.
The solicitor turned and approached them, hand outstretched. ‘Clive Pickersgill,’ he said, shaking their hands heartily. The DCI approved of the firm handshake, and the way Pickersgill easily maintained eye contact.
‘Nice room,’ Pickersgill added wryly, glancing around. James suppressed a grin. This man was sharper than he looked.
Once the four were seated at the small, rectangular table, DI Phillips offered refreshments. Sir Ralph asked for a glass of water. The tape was switched on and DI Phillips then read out the caution.
‘Now, sir,’ began the DCI, once the caution was out of the way, ‘when we last spoke, you will recall we discussed your movements on the night of the twenty-ninth of November. Would you mind telling me again what you did that evening and night?’ DCI Brown put some p
aperwork on the desk and looked enquiringly at Sir Ralph.
‘Certainly. As I told you, I had a business meeting in Holetown early in the evening, which finished at around eight thirty pm I then I drove straight home, arriving at approximately nine.’ He sounded rather pompous.
‘And then?’ asked Louis.
‘I had a couple of whiskies, chatted to Lucy for a while, then read the papers and went off to bed. I believe Lucy has confirmed this. I thought I’d seen my wife, as I mentioned when you first asked me, but she has reminded me that I was in bed by the time she arrived home at 11.45pm and, as we have separate sleeping arrangements, I didn’t see her until the next morning.’
DI Phillips looked through the papers in front of him, from which he produced a sheet of paper.
‘Unfortunately, we have a problem with your account. You weren’t in bed when your wife came home, were you? I have here a statement from your driver, Elvis, who tells us that, later that evening, he took you back into Holetown,’ he consulted the paper in his hand. ‘At around ten o’clock.’
Sir Ralph turned to look at his lawyer, who hastily asked for a few minutes alone with his client. It was clear this was news to him. DI Phillips stopped the tape and showed them to a separate room. On their return, the tape was switched back on and the interview resumed.
‘My driver did take me into Holetown. I’m sorry I misled you. It was foolish of me, Officer... but I didn’t want my wife to find out. It’s rather delicate you see, I was meeting my, er… friend in a club there. We stayed for a couple of hours before going to a villa in Westmoreland where my friend lives. Eventually, I got a taxi home in the early hours of the morning, around five.’
DI Phillips interrupted. ‘As I’m sure you know, it’s a serious business, lying to us and wasting our time. Now, we need the name and address of your friend and details of the club you visited.’
Sir Ralph hesitated, looking extremely uncomfortable, perspiration beginning to stand out on his forehead.
‘I’m afraid I cannot disclose the name of my friend. It’s a high profile person, very well known on the island, and indeed internationally.’
DI Phillips spoke quietly. ‘I don’t care how well known she is. Don’t you realise how much trouble you’re in? If you don’t tell us and we can’t corroborate your story, you will become a prime suspect in the attempted murder of Carol Barrington. You know her; you were in the vicinity; you lied about your whereabouts, and on top of all this, for no good reason that we know of, you’ve refused to give a DNA sample. It’s not looking so good for you is it? Protecting your girlfriend might seem chivalrous to you, but to me it’s foolish and dangerous. Now for the last time, who is she?’
Sir Ralph glanced at his lawyer, who nodded almost imperceptibly, before looking at the DI.
‘Can you give my client your categoric assurance that the information he is about to reveal will not be made public in any way?’ Clive Pickersgill said quietly. Sir Ralph was now wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.
‘Obviously, we’ll need to speak with this lady and if, as a result of our enquiries, we can rule out your client as a suspect, there’ll be no need to disclose information to any third party. If not… we wouldn’t be able to give any assurances.’
Sir Ralph lowered his head and in very subdued tones said ‘It’s not a lady. It’s Sir Gordon Peterson, aide to the British High Commissioner to Barbados. I would appreciate your absolute discretion when you speak to him. He’s going to be very upset at being identified.’
The DCI kept a poker face. ‘And what is the nature of your relationship with Sir Gordon?’ he asked.
‘He’s my... friend,’ replied Sir Ralph, unable to meet the DCI’s gaze.
‘Just your friend, Sir Ralph? Why would you need to keep that from your wife? Is your relationship of a sexual nature?’
Sir Ralph lowered his head, ‘Yes’ he whispered.
‘And the club you went to with him?’
‘The Blue Monkey.’ he almost whispered, wiping his brow again with his hanky.
A well-known gay club thought Louis. ‘Thank you, Sir Ralph. That will be all for now, but we’ll need to speak to you again in due course.’
Once they’d gone, Louis and James looked at each other.
‘Fucking hell,’ exclaimed James. ‘I didn’t see that coming.’
‘Me neither. Of course, this must be kept in the strictest confidence. Not a word to anyone. I need to take this to the Chief.’
‘Yes sir. I understand. My lips are sealed.’
‘They’d better be,’ said Louis as he left and headed straight for the Chief Superintendent’s office. He knocked and waited for Chief Superintendant Frank Williamson to respond, before entering the office.
‘Sir. Got something you should know. This is dynamite. Sir Ralph McIntyre Brown has only been having a relationship with Sir Gordon Peterson, aide to the British High Commissioner. That’s where he was when Carol Barrington was attacked. Who’d have thought it? McIntyre-Brown wants to rely on him to corroborate his whereabouts.’
‘Bloody hell, Louis. Keep this under your hat. We can’t let this get out. I’ll speak with Sir Gordon personally, but don’t hold your breath, he’s never going to admit this.’
The next day, Sir Ralph was once again in the interview room, Clive at his side. DCI Brown thanked them for coming in again. Louis could tell by looking at Sir Ralph that he hadn’t slept at all. He looked dreadful.
‘I’m afraid Sir Gordon Peterson cannot corroborate your account, Sir Ralph. He denies seeing you that night. He admits to having met you in the past, but denies having any kind of relationship with you. He reminded us that he’s a happily married man, with four children. He’s absolutely outraged at the suggestion that he would be involved in any sleazy behaviour.’
Sir Ralph groaned and slumped in his seat, putting his head in his hands. ‘I should have known he would deny it. He’s lying of course, you must know that?’
‘Unfortunately for you, Sir Ralph, lying or not, he’s protected by diplomatic immunity. We can’t touch him. The only way you can clear yourself now is to submit a DNA sample. And if you continue to refuse to do so, the only conclusion we could come to is that you are afraid there will be a match with DNA taken at the crime scene.’
Sir Ralph’s face crumpled and, for a second, Louis thought he was going to cry, but he pulled himself together, sat up straight in his chair and said in clipped tones ‘I will agree to provide a sample for DNA analysis on the condition that no details of it are revealed to any third parties. The truth is, I’m HIV positive and I don’t want my wife or anyone else to know this.’
‘Ah, I see, Sir... and did you make Sir Gordon Peterson aware of that fact, I wonder?’ It was a rhetorical question and there was no response from Sir Ralph, who looked totally defeated.
After swabs had been taken, DCI Brown told them ‘It’ll take a few days for the DNA results to be processed, but they’ll be here well before you plan to leave the island, so for now that will be all and you’re free to go.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Once Leroy Barrow had been brought back to the station from the Magistrate’s Court, DCI Brown told him he was to be interviewed, under caution, in relation to another offence and advised him to have his solicitor present. He declined.
‘I aint done nothing else. Why would I need a solicitor?’
Cocky little bugger thought the DCI, just been remanded for trial and still full of himself.
The interview was conducted in the same small, stuffy room in the back of the police station. For the record, James gave the names of those present, DCI Louis Brown along with DC James Phillips and the interviewee, Leroy Barrow. He got Barrow to confirm that he’d refused legal representation.
‘Now, Leroy, can you tell us where you were on the night of twenty ninth of November? Just to jog your memory, that’s the night a woman was attacked and badly injured. Up the coast from Holetown.�
�� the DI began.
Leroy, who had been sitting back in his chair, nonchalantly inspecting his fingernails, looked up sharply and sat up straighter.
‘That white woman? I heard ‘bout that. Hell man, that wasn’t me. I remember that night I was down the coast, shaggin’ that sweet little thing lives in the blue chattel house. Everybody talkin’ bout that girl; she can bonk and she don’t care who with. Why would I need a white woman? I had a good evenin’, couple a splifs and a bonk. Man, I don’t need me no white woman!’
‘Obviously we’ll need to check with the girl, to see if she can corroborate your story. What time did you leave?’
‘I can’t remember, man. I had a few cans and splifs. Prob’ly ‘bout midnight I s’pose’
‘Then what did you do?’
‘Hell man, I dunno. S’pose I must’ve walked home. Yeah, I just went home, it’s not far.’
‘Leroy, you’ve got form for rape and assault. We’ve got your DNA on file and we’ll be comparing it with DNA taken from the crime scene. You admit you were in the vicinity of the attack. If it was you, the DNA will prove it. So, if you did it, it’ll be better for you if you come clean now rather than later.’ DCI Brown was pressing the matter. Leroy’s angelic act did not match his record, which included the assault and rape of a young girl when he was only nineteen, for which he’d served just four years, getting out six months ago. During that assault, he’d hit the victim over the head with a heavy vase.
‘I’m tellin’ you, man. It wasn’t me. I never touched no white woman. I told you what I done to the other lady, just pushed her outa my way. But the white woman? No way.’
‘Well, we’re still investigating and looking for further evidence. Failing that, the DNA will prove it one way or another.’ He turned to DI Phillips, ‘Hand him back to the Duty Sergeant.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
That afternoon, Simon collected Julia from Grantley Adams. With only hand luggage, she was one of the first passengers to clear customs, and he soon caught sight of her, hurrying through, head bent. She looked up and his heart went out to her. In place of the vivacious and flamboyant young girl he’d last seen, there was a white-faced ghost. As soon as she spotted Simon, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms. She was trembling.
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