Blood Line (39 page)

‘He’s also gay, right?’ Williams asked.

‘Apparently so, or bisexual. He was living with a woman called Tina Brooks and they were engaged to be married.’

Williams took a gulp of his coffee, staring towards what little information they had acquired from Anna’s investigation on their board.

‘Is she involved?’

‘To be honest, I keep on looking at her as a prime suspect and then I back off.’

‘The evidence found in the flat she shared with Rawlins puts her, in my mind, dead centre of the frame,’ Williams said. ‘She had to have known about the blood pooling, how could she not? Unless she has lied about going back to see the boyfriend. She said he had a migraine – right?’

‘Yes. She’s also been interviewed twice and we always get the same response. She denies knowing anything about it, denies knowing Rawlins was homosexual, denies being aware of the amount of money we know he was hoarding and denies playing any part in his disappearance. Without a DNA sample for comparison we have been unable to confirm that the blood in her flat was in fact Rawlins’s.’

‘She ever come to Cornwall with him?’

‘No. She says she couldn’t swim so he always came alone.’

Williams drained his coffee and replaced the mug onto the tray.

‘Well, we’ve got our work cut out for tomorrow, so let’s call it quits for tonight and start afresh in the morning.’

Anna agreed, and Williams drove them back to the B&B. She liked the way he got out and walked with her and Paul to the front door.

He waited whilst Paul used his key to let them in before leaning closer to Anna and quietly asking her if she believed Alan Rawlins was still alive.

She hesitated and then nodded. But Williams didn’t wait to discuss it further and returned to the car. He drove off as Anna waved goodbye and closed the front door.

‘What did he say?’ Paul asked as they moved quietly up the stairs.

‘Nothing. Goodnight and see you at breakfast.’

Anna waited until she heard Paul finish in the communal bathroom before she went and ran a bath for herself. Lying in the deep hot water she closed her eyes, thinking about the evening and about Williams. She felt confident that they would uncover something that moved her case forward. She also began to think again about Tina Brooks. Could she have lied about returning to the flat the same night? The entire timeframe of the murder was based on her statements, as they could not determine when the blood pooling had been deposited. It meant they had no real time of death. The same applied to the reports of Alan becoming a missing person. This was not until two weeks after Rawlins had left work early with the migraine.

Anna sighed, trying to assimilate all the facts. If they didn’t get a result from this trip to Cornwall, she knew Langton might well replace her or call off the investigation.

A
nna woke early and repacked her things, but she doubted they would leave that night. She was finishing breakfast when Paul joined her at the small table laid for two. The other equally small tables were set with only a white cloth and a small plastic rose in a bottle.

‘You sleep well?’ she asked.

‘Out like a light as soon as my head hit the pillow.’ Paul poured himself coffee and Anna suggested he pack up just in case they did get the last train back to London, although they’d more than likely have to stay another night. They couldn’t be sure until they’d seen what they could come up with during the day. His breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage and fried bread was presented with a flourish by the landlady, who also brought in a fresh pot of coffee. Anna asked if she could have a word about the possibility of staying on and whether they could leave their bags in their rooms.

‘The rooms were booked for two nights.’

‘Fine – well then, expect us when you see us.’

Leaving them to finish breakfast and obviously not happy with the uncertainty of not knowing if they were staying or not, she departed to her domain.

‘Bit prickly, isn’t she?’ Paul remarked, eating like a starved man.

‘It’s her business, so who can blame her? I’ll see you upstairs as I want to look over the maps Williams left.’

‘Okay. When do we do the helicopter ride?’

‘Williams said early this morning. No doubt he’ll have the day organised, but we’ve a lot to get through. First port of call will be visiting the property Rawlins owns.’

Williams was parked outside the B&B waiting for them. It felt even colder today than the night before. He said he was a trifle concerned about the weather and that it might not be suitable for flying, but he hoped the wind would die down later in the morning. By the time they reached Alan’s house, it was raining hard. The large gates to the property were open so they were able to drive up to the parking area. It was only nine-thirty and it didn’t look as if anyone was at home.

‘Maybe they’re still in bed,’ Anna said as she got out of the patrol car. The wind whipped around her and she hugged her jacket close as she walked up the path accompanied by Paul and Williams. It was just as the photographs had shown; the white umbrellas on the patio were tied straight, but the wind was tugging at them and the double garage doors were closed. Anna rang the doorbell and waited, while Williams stepped back to look up at the windows, catching the movement of a curtain inched aside.

‘Somebody’s home so ring again.’

Anna tried twice, keeping her hand on the bell until eventually she heard footsteps. The door was inched open and a blonde girl of about eighteen peered out.

‘Yes?’

Anna showed her ID and asked to be let in as it was an urgent police matter. The girl stepped back and opened the door wider. She was wearing a short nightdress, was barefoot and her hair was tangled. She looked half-asleep. Anna did the introductions standing in the wide hallway with its stripped pine flooring, then asked if there was anyone else at home.

‘They’re in bed.’

Williams gestured to the girl to get them up and jerked his thumb towards an archway that led into a lounge.

‘We’ll wait in here, and Paul, you go on up with her. What’s your name, sweetheart?’

‘Kelly.’

‘Okay, Kelly, get a move on, love. Who else is staying here?’

‘My mum and my boyfriend. My dad’s not here.’

Kelly hurried up the stairs followed by Paul as Williams walked through the archway into the lounge and sat on one of the very comfortable low sofas. The furnishing was stylish, but there were empty wine bottles left around and he picked up an ashtray to indicate to Anna that there were a number of roaches amongst the cigarette butts. Old newspapers were strewn about on the floor by the grate, where there were the remains of a fire.

‘What do you want?’ A woman was dragging on a dressing-gown. She still had pins in her hair. ‘Is it to do with my husband? Has something happened?’

‘You are . . .?’

‘I’m Kelly’s mother, Norma Chapman.’

Anna introduced herself and Williams again as Norma pulled out the hairgrips.

‘We just need to ask you a few questions about this property, Mrs Chapman.’

Before she could answer Kelly returned with a young boy who looked so groggy he could have fallen over.

‘Sit down. Who are you?’

‘It’s Kelly’s boyfriend, Adrian Knowles; he’s staying with us.’ Mrs Chapman was now running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make herself look presentable.

The three of them sat on a sofa. Anna drew up a wicker chair to sit opposite them. Williams remained seated. Paul stood behind Anna.

‘Tell me how you came to be living here?’ Anna asked.

‘We’ve rented it for the next three years – my husband arranged it. He’s away on business in Scotland at the moment.’

It didn’t take long for Mrs Chapman to explain that her husband was working for a shipyard as a luxury yacht designer and he had arranged the rental through an estate agent. She was unsure about how the rent was paid, but believed it was by a banker’s draft to the owner’s account. She had never met the owner and she didn’t think that her husband had either. She gave them her husband’s mobile number and work number. She also mentioned that she had rented a car, and it was used by herself and her daughter. An MG.

Anna was disappointed, but proceeded to get out photographs of Alan Rawlins, asking the woman if she had ever met him. Mrs Chapman shook her head and passed them to her daughter, who also said she had never seen him.

‘What about you, Adrian? Will you look at the photographs, please?’

Adrian was barely awake. He blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then shook his head.

Next they were shown a photograph of Sammy Marsh. Both women said they had not met him, but then Mrs Chapman hesitated. She looked to her daughter.

‘Wasn’t he the one that came round here?’

Kelly shrugged and passed the photo to Adrian.

‘What about you, Adrian? Have you met him? He’s a drug-dealer. I noticed a few roaches in the ashtray. Did you meet up with him at all?’ asked Anna.

Mrs Chapman became very nervous. ‘Just wait a minute, what’s this about? I admit we’ve had a few joints, but that was because I have asthma and it helps me to sleep, but if you are here about—’

Anna interrupted her. ‘I’m not interested in whether or not you use cannabis.’

‘I use it to help me sleep!’ The woman’s voice was shrill.

‘Did you score it from this man in the photograph?’

‘No, but I think he might have been the man who called here. Adrian, didn’t you see him?’

‘No.’

Mrs Chapman grew even more agitated, taking back the photograph for another look.

‘It was just after we moved in. We sold our place in St Ives and we’re eventually going to buy somewhere, but my husband reckons we should wait for the prices to get lower so that’s why we rented this house.’

‘Tell me why you think you saw this man?’

‘Well, I could be wrong. The reason I remember is because it was late at night. He asked about someone and I said we’d just moved in.’

‘Do you recall the person he asked to see?’

‘No, I’m sorry. Like I said, it was very late at night and I didn’t even like opening the door. I also kept the chain on because there was something about him.’

‘Was it this man?’ Anna showed her another photograph of Sammy.

‘I think so. He was very jumpy, I remember that, and it was only for a couple of minutes. Oh yes, something else – we’ve got the gates at the bottom of the drive and he had to have known the code to open them. That’s what I remember now.’

‘But they were open when we drove up.’

‘They are now because something’s gone wrong with the mechanism and we’ve asked for it to be fixed. I think Kelly clipped them one time coming home.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Well, they’ve not worked since. But that was what sort of unnerved me about him; you know, that he knew the code to open them.’

Anna glanced towards Williams. He gave her a small shrug.

‘If you scored from him, Adrian, admit it. We are trying to trace him in connection with a murder enquiry,’ he told the youth.

‘I never, I never.’

‘Did you find any papers or documents left by the owner when you moved in?’ Anna asked, looking to Mrs Chapman.

‘No. It was spotless as the property had just been renovated. Most of the furniture was new and we had to agree to have the cleaner that the agents suggested, but we pay her. We need someone to look at the barbeque as it doesn’t light up properly – the gas doesn’t go through.’

‘Can you just repeat to me exactly the method of paying the rent?’

‘My husband deals with all that. I’ve never even seen the agreements.’

Anna stood up ready to leave, but Williams remained seated.

‘Can you show us some identification, Mrs Chapman?’ he asked. ‘Passports, driving licence?’

Anna turned and looked at Paul as Mrs Chapman got up and left the lounge. Williams now addressed Adrian.

‘Listen, son, I’m not coming after you, but if you scored your dope from Sammy Marsh I want to know about it.’

‘Who?’

‘This man.’ He shoved the photograph under the boy’s nose.

‘No, I never met him. I got it from a bloke at the Smugglers café months ago.’

‘He got a name?’

‘Raj, that’s all I know.’

‘Young, old? Describe him.’

‘He’s Indian, used to work there when we first arrived, but he’s not there now.’

Mrs Chapman returned with passports and handed them to Williams, which slightly annoyed Anna. He flicked through them and then passed them to Anna.

‘Your husband’s American?’

‘Yes, from Kansas, but he’s lived here for twenty years.’

Anna gave the passports back to her and asked if she would be kind enough to show her and Paul around the property. Williams said he would wait in the car.

Anna and Paul returned to the patrol car where Williams was waiting.

‘Untidy woman – every room is a tip, but it looks like it cost a lot to modernise and furnish the place so they must be paying a considerable amount.’

‘Not necessarily. On a fixed three years’ rental they probably got a deal, but I’ll check it out,’ Williams promised. ‘I think we need to chat to the cleaning lady, so we’ll go to her place next.’

They drove in silence for a while and eventually Paul asked from the back seat if they thought they had gained anything from the Chapmans’ household that was of interest.

‘Only the fact that Sammy was hammering on the door in a bit of a state and it’s around the time he went missing six months ago,’ Williams said abruptly.

‘What about her husband being an American?’ Anna asked.

‘Doesn’t pull my strings, Kansas. If he’d been Colombian I might have been interested. Anyway, I can check him out. In fact, I’ll do it now.’

True to his word, Williams rang the station as they drove, asking them to contact Mr Chapman and arrange for them to see him as soon as possible.

He next asked his team if there was any news from the pilot regarding the helicopter trip, but there wasn’t. The weather was still very blustery, the rain now lashing down.

Anna was frustrated. Williams being so dominant put her off her stroke and she considered asking for the car he had arranged so that she and Paul could work by themselves. Williams’s priority was obviously tracking down Sammy Marsh whereas hers was Alan Rawlins. She felt that she would make more headway without him.