Making A Killing (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 2) (34 page)

‘Jesus Christ. He must have hated me that day at the station.’

‘She said he hated you from the first day he met you. Something about treading out your cigarette on one of his greens. But I suppose telling him his fortune like that didn’t help much. Anyway, where was I?’

‘West and Thatcher.’

‘Right. Apparently, Thatcher had seen Emerson and West, let’s say, defiling one of his greens with their nocturnal activities on a previous occasion. If he hated you for stubbing out a cigarette, you can imagine how those two shagging on one of them must have made him feel. He guessed she must have been out there with Emerson on the night he died. Why else would he be there? He recovered a length of red silk from the scene. It had been tied around Phillip Emerson’s head as a blindfold. He knew we didn’t have anyone for the murder and being desperate for some sort of security for his family’s future he decided to try his arm at a bit of blackmail and extortion with a woman who had just become a very wealthy widow. He told her what he had and what he knew and that he’d come to us with stories of seeing them on the course together, if she didn’t pay up. He arranged to meet her on the course. She was supposed to be buying it back from him. He asked for ten thousand pounds. That’s where we come into it.’

‘B
ut why would she meet him? We’d already spoken to her at the station. She knew we couldn’t prove that she’d beaten him.’

‘I’ve wondered about that. We didn’t have a case with what we had. She knew that. Remember, she said
she’d gone there to teach him a lesson and that she only took his keys and left him there. She never said anything about blindfolding him. What if she had beaten him to death? Or, at least given him more than one whack and thought that maybe she had killed him? Given what we know of her now, it’s possible. I certainly wouldn’t have put it past her. Maybe she believed Thatcher had actually witnessed something that would compromise her version of events and that if he came to us with his story and the blindfold, then he’d be believed and she’d be in all sorts of trouble with us because she’d already given us a sworn statement she only knocked him unconscious in self-defence.’

‘So Phillip Emerson died playing around after all. That won’t please the widow. West met Thatcher to pay him off then?’

‘She didn’t have any money on her and there wasn’t anything in her car. I think she went there to either take what he had by force or maybe to silence him. Who knows? We’re pretty sure that she did her old man, right? She might well have done Emerson. If she did both, why not do Thatcher as well? In for a penny and all that.’

‘What tangled webs we weave, something, something, something.’

‘When first we practise to deceive.’

‘Thank you. Why did the old woman tell you all this?’

‘Because I told her nothing was admissible in court. I think she wanted to talk to someone about it. And when you think about it all there’s not much chance of convicting Bill Thatcher for anything.’

‘Perverting the course of justice. He removed evidence from the scene and planted it somewhere else.’

‘We can’t prove that, sir.’

‘How about extortion?’

‘Our only witness is dead.’

‘Well he can’t get out of killing Lillian West, can he?’

‘True. But when you take into consideration his fractured skull, his age and the cause of death, self-defence seems the only outcome as well as the probable truth. Maybe that’s why the old woman told me everything; she wanted me to see they had nothing to hide. When you take into account they’ve lost their daughter as well, I don’t think the system is going to be too hard on him, do you, sir?’

‘I suppose not.’ Romney sighed heavily and winced. ‘Five deaths: two murders, a manslaughter, a misadventure and a suicide and we’re not going to get a single conviction. How is that going to make us look, do you think?’

‘Unfortunate.’

‘Incompetent more like. Honestly, put this with the parking medal lunatic and Wilkie’s psychopathic response it sounds more like something out of a
far-fetched Ealing comedy than modern policing.’

‘Maybe it’s just been the heat, sir. It can make people a bit crotchety.’

‘I’ll try that one with Falkner, see how he likes it. Thank God we got a result on the Duncan Smart thing.’ Marsh coughed. ‘All right, thank God you got a result on the Duncan Smart thing. Which reminds me, you obviously had something you were keeping to yourself about all that. Something that made you think his ex-wife was involved?’

‘It was his last phone call. Remember he was found clutching his mobile? The last call he had made, or tried to make, was to her. His phone records showed he hadn’t rung her once since their divorce. Why would he make his last action on earth a call to her? I don’t know why he still had her number in his
phone, probably just something he never got around to deleting. In any case, she’d changed her number. He wouldn’t have been able to get through. It just felt like he was pointing the finger at her. I can’t explain it, really.’

‘Copper’s intuition?’

‘Something like that. Anyway, events sort of overtook me and it turned out to be a line of enquiry I didn’t need to rely on.’

*

Romney spent the next four days in hospital. He missed his holiday. Julie Carpenter managed to change his ticket at the last minute and went to Corfu for the week with a friend. She sent him a letter before she left and Romney learned that the friend was actually the ex-boyfriend from the Marlowe Theatre evening. It hurt. It hurt a lot. He consoled himself by spending much of his enforced convalescence trying to convince himself that it would never have worked, anyway. He almost came to believe it. At least, for once, he had nothing to reproach himself about in the break-up of a relationship.

Bill Thatcher died on his third day in hospital. When he was told of his daughter’s death they said his light went out. Whatever they tried with him, he went slowly downhill until in the early hours of a quiet night he passed away in his sleep. His death certificate recorded that he died of heart failure. Those who witnessed his last days said it was a broken heart that killed him and so it was close enough.

While Romney lay bored out of his mind in his hospital bed, a local newspaper found its way onto his bedside cabinet. To pass some time he flicked through it. A small photograph a couple of pages in caught his attention. The short paragraph that accompanied it told him it was of a Mr and Mrs Mathis embracing happily at their diamond wedding anniversary celebration. It also reported the burial of Mrs Emily Mathis, aged 85, who died in tragic circumstances during police action. No mention was made of her identity as
The
Parking Medal Man.
Mrs Mathis had been laid to rest next to her husband in the town cemetery. Mr Mathis had died three months previously as a result of being struck by a lorry when he stepped into the road to navigate his way around a vehicle that had blocked the footpath.

*

It was Marsh who offered to drive Romney home from the hospital. She arrived with some good news and something to cheer him up.

‘Message from Superintendent Falkner, sir. He says, at least you won’t have to clean Lillian West’s carpets now.’ Romney grunted. ‘Message from maintenance, they’ve fixed your car. You had an electrical short.’

‘About bloody time.’ Romney realised they weren’t heading towards his home. He said, ‘Do you know where I live, Sergeant?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then why are we heading in the opposite direction?’

‘I thought you needed cheering up, sir.’

‘Really? And what do you think might do that?’ A signpost for The White Cliffs Golf Club hove into view. ‘Please tell me we’re not going for a round of golf.’

‘No, sir. Remember I told you about Duncan Smart’s aunt living next door to him?’

‘Yes.’

‘We get on quite well.’

‘You seem to have the common touch, Sergeant,’ said Romney. ‘Is there anyone you don’t get on well with?’

She thought of Wilkie and said, ‘Yes, sir. Do you remember me telling you that her late husband was a great one for collecting first editions of detective fiction?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve arranged you a private viewing. I think that you might be pretty astounded at some of the books she has on her shelves.’

Despite the obvious discomfort that it brought him, Romney turned in his seat to study his sergeant. ‘Sergeant Marsh, that might just be the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me for a long time. Thank you.’

As they drove along the seafront
, Marsh said, ‘There are a couple of things about the Emerson case that I still can’t work out.’

‘Can we talk about them when I’m back to work, do you think?’ said Romney.

*

Marsh took the car up Jubilee Way
– Dover’s quick escape route for those fresh off the ferry with more appealing destinations in mind. She negotiated the roundabout at the top and made her unhurried way along the A258 between Dover and Deal. As they motored along parallel with the English Channel across the top of the White Cliffs, Romney wound down the window to drink in the pungent glorious freshness of the day. The Channel glistened. Romney could make out a number of different sized and shaped ships far out to sea making their way up and down one of the busiest sea lanes in the world. In the distance the air quality afforded him a good view of the French coast. A ferry was making its way as the crow flies from France, cutting a swathe though the water, throwing its white bow wave up in front of it like a freshly laundered and starched shirt collar, its path bisecting the general flow of traffic. Romney loved to watch the boats, always had. 

***

Hello,

Firstly, I’d like to say thank you for taking a chance on down
loading this book whether you’ve paid for it or not. I hope you found something in it to enjoy.

Secondly, I would like to invite you to visit me at
http://olivertidy.wordpress.com/
where you can find out more about other
titles in this series and other books I’ve written.

Thirdly, I would be genuinely most grateful to receive any comments, corrections and suggestions regarding any aspect of this book and my writing at the web address above where I have made
a page available for feedback.

Finally, if you have noticed any mistakes of an editorial nature, please accept my apologies. If you let me know what they are, I can rectify them. I am a self-published author and, in this case, except fo
r the cover art, that means I’ve done everything myself towards creating the book. That includes the proof-reading. Not being a professional in any aspect of the book creation business, I’m afraid that, despite my best efforts, there are bound to be mistakes. I can only hope that any that turned up did not spoil your enjoyment of the read.

Best wishes

Oliver Tidy

PS This is a revised copy made after
Making a Killing
had been available to download for a year.

While I have received plenty of encouraging
feedback regarding the Romney and Marsh Files, I have also had comments about proofreading and editing. Not uncomfortably negative comments, rather constructively helpful.

I feel I have developed quite a bit as a writer since I wrote this book. I could have changed a lot in my updated version but, for sentimental reasons, I haven’t. What I have done is correct the errors of spelling, punctuation and grammar that readers who have read the book have very kindly taken the time and trouble to point out to me. I am grateful to each and every one of
them.

E-book titles available in my Romney and Marsh Files series:

#1 Rope Enough
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Enough-Romney-Marsh-Files-ebook/dp/

#2 Making a Killing
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Making-Killing-Romney-Marsh-ebook/dp/

#3 Joint Enterprise
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#4 Matters of Life and Death. This is a provisional title for the fourth in the series that will be available in ebook form in the first half of 2014. Please see my website, mentioned above, for details.

E-book titles available in my Acer Sansom series:

#1 Dirty Business
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#2 Loose Ends
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E-book titles in my Book and Cash series:

#1 Bad Sons. This book will be available in ebook form in the first half of 2014.
Please see my website, mentioned above, for details.