The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural (32 page)

BOOK: The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural
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‘I'm sure you are. How did you feel when the police began interviewing everyone in an attempt to find out exactly how Rainbird came to be in the water?'

‘It was disturbing for everyone, of course, but we all did our best to cooperate with the investigating officers.'

‘It didn't occur to you to tell us at the time exactly what had happened?'

‘I know I should have done, but I didn't want Lily to know I'd hit the man she obviously loved.'

‘But she knew – or guessed – what happened and later she accused you of killing him?' Chapman nodded.

‘When was that?'

Chapman hesitated before saying, ‘I can't remember exactly – maybe a day or two later.'

‘What was your reaction to her accusation?'

‘We had a rather heated argument and I'm afraid I lost my temper and not only admitted that I'd hit Rainbird but I was glad he was dead.'

‘Where did this “rather heated” argument take place?'

‘In our private sitting room.'

‘Where presumably no one is likely to have overheard – unless of course your voices were raised so that anyone happening to pass your room might have been tempted to stop for a moment and listen to what was being said.'

Chapman sat for almost a minute without speaking. Then he said in a quiet but determined voice, ‘I'm not going to answer any more questions without advice from my solicitor.'

Chapman introduced his solicitor as Alec Peters. He was a clean-shaven, fresh-faced man whom Sukey judged to be about fifty, although he might have passed for several years younger. His manner was brisk and professional.

‘Inspector Rathbone, my client emphatically denies being responsible for the death of Lance Rainbird, but he admits attacking him on the evening in question. He is aware that this renders him liable to prosecution, but I understand you have not so far charged him with any offence.'

‘That is correct,' said Rathbone.

‘May I ask why not? My client assures me that he has nothing to add to his previous statement.'

‘The reason,' said Rathbone ‘is that we are also investigating the murder of one of the waiters at Dallington Manor, Reginald Law, which occurred two days after the death of Lance Rainbird. We believe that your client may be able to help us with our enquiries into that death as well.' He turned to Chapman. ‘If you remember, sir, you admitted earlier today that you had what you described as a rather heated argument with your wife Lily “a day or two” after the death of her lover, Lance Rainbird. Is that correct?' Chapman glanced at Peters, who nodded.

‘Yes, that is correct,' said Chapman.

‘What started the argument?'

‘It was Lily – she'd obviously been churning things over in her mind and suddenly accused me of deliberately murdering Rainbird because of their affair. I kept repeating that all I did was give him a punch that knocked him over and that he was alive and on his feet when I left him. In the end she accepted my account of what happened.'

‘What did you do then?'

‘I switched on the television and left her to sit and watch that while I checked the arrangements for the refreshments for Mr Freeman's party.'

‘That would be about what time?'

‘They came down at about half-past three.'

‘But you would have got there a bit earlier, to make sure everything was under control?'

‘Of course.'

‘Was Law one of the waiters on duty that afternoon?'

‘He may have been. I can't tell you without checking the duty rotas.'

‘I can save you the trouble,' said Rainbird. ‘Detective Constable Reynolds has already checked with a member of your staff, who confirms that Law was on duty that afternoon and finished about eight o'clock. And when he came off duty, as was his habit, he went out into the grounds to have a cigarette.'

‘Really, Inspector,' said Peters, ‘I see no point in these questions. Surely you aren't suggesting that my client should be aware of the individual habits of every member of his staff?'

‘You are right, I'm not suggesting anything of the kind,' said Rathbone. He turned back to Chapman. ‘Our enquiries have revealed that Reginald Law informed a member of the local press that he could offer what he described as a tasty titbit in exchange for some payment.'

‘So how does that concern my client?'

‘It concerns your client because shortly after he had that heated argument with his wife he overheard Reginald Law making a further telephone call on his mobile phone – a call which told him immediately that their argument had been overheard and that what had been said was in danger of being made public.' He turned back to Chapman. ‘I put it to you that on hearing that call you saw your marriage, your reputation and your business being ruined, that you followed Law into the garden and silenced him by taking him by the throat and throttling him.'

Chapman shook his head and cast a despairing glance at Peters, who said, ‘Before I advise my client how to answer, may I know what evidence – if any – you have to support this accusation?'

‘A perfectly reasonable request,' Rathbone said calmly. He laid on the table a transparent envelope containing a pair of white cotton gloves. ‘Do you recognize these, Mr Chapman?'

Chapman stared at the gloves for a moment as if mesmerized. Then he said, ‘They look like a pair of waiter's gloves.'

‘Have you seen them before?'

‘I've seen plenty like them. I can't possibly say if I've ever seen that particular pair.'

‘We believe these gloves were worn by Reginald Law's killer. Are you sure you've never seen them before?'

‘Really, Inspector,' said Peters, ‘how can you possibly expect my client to identify this particular pair?'

‘I admit that identification is not possible just by looking at them,' said Rathbone, ‘but our enquiries have shown that DNA tests have proved not only that these gloves were worn at some time by your client, but also that they were worn by Reginald Law's killer.'

Chapman said nothing. Peters said, ‘Inspector, I should like a few moments to confer with my client.'

‘Fifteen minutes,' said Rathbone. ‘Interview suspended at eleven thirty.' He switched off the recorder and left the room, accompanied by Vicky and Sukey.

‘It looks as if we've really got our man this time, Guv,' said Vicky.

‘Let's see what he comes up with before we start counting our chickens,' said Rathbone. ‘We've got time for a quick coffee.' He headed for the machine. When they returned to the interview room he switched on the recorder and sat down. ‘Right, Mr Chapman, perhaps you can account for the presence of your DNA on both sides of these gloves?'

‘I think I can answer that Inspector,' said Chapman. ‘A couple of weeks ago we organized a dinner for a local business consortium and as it was a formal occasion we hired formal dress for our waiters. It so happened that we were unexpectedly a waiter short that evening so I put on a black tie and gloves and helped with the service.'

‘What did you do with the gloves when the function was over?'

‘As far as I know I sent them back with the rest of the clothing that we hired.'

‘So how do you account for the fact that they were subsequently discovered in a rubbish bin behind the hotel?'

‘I suppose they were overlooked and no one bothered to send them back.'

‘But we know they are the gloves you wore because your DNA is on the inside and outside of both gloves. And,' Rathbone paused for effect and fixed Chapman with his characteristic steely gaze, ‘DNA tests also prove that the hands that wore these gloves are the hands that throttled Reginald Law.' He stood up. ‘Maurice Chapman, I charge you with carrying out a physical attack on Lance Rainbird, thereby causing his death, and with the deliberate murder of Reginald Law.' He recited the formal caution and then said, ‘No doubt your solicitor will wish to apply for bail on your behalf, so you will be handed over to the custody sergeant while the application is being considered.'

TWENTY-EIGHT

A
fter the arrest of Maurice Chapman, DCI Leach summoned the team to his office.

‘Congratulations, Greg,' he said warmly. ‘Your first case as a DI turned out to be one of the trickiest and most frustrating we've had in a long time. You and your team have done really well to bring about a result.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Rathbone. ‘It was pretty tricky at times, chasing up what turned out to be blind alleys and so forth, but we got there in the end.'

‘There's still quite a bit to do before we submit the case against Chapman to the CPS,' Leach went on. ‘Bail has been granted, by the way, as Chapman isn't considered to be a threat to anyone else – unless to himself, of course, but no doubt the magistrate considered that possibility and rejected it.'

‘I don't think for a moment that he'd top himself, sir, if for no other reason that it would cause further distress to his wife. He's absolutely devoted to her but, reading between the lines, it seems there's one rather significant way in which he can't express his love.'

‘Yes, I gathered as much from your report and I've made a note to check with his GP about that. He may have sought help.'

‘It would certainly account for his wife seeking satisfaction elsewhere, I suppose,' said Rathbone, ‘but the murder of Reg Law was only indirectly due to his marital problems; it was simply a matter of expedience. He was smart enough to use gloves, but not smart enough to understand about DNA.'

‘So what's Chapman doing now, sir?' asked DC Mike Haskins.

‘He was taken back to the hotel in an unmarked police car,' said Leach, ‘and as far as we know he's carrying on with the business until a date is fixed for the trial. I'm calling a press conference first thing tomorrow, by the way. All I'll say is that a man has been charged with causing the deaths of Lance Rainbird and Reginald Law and released on bail pending further enquiries.'

‘I don't suppose for a moment that will satisfy them,' said Rathbone. ‘We took care that none of the paparazzi actually witnessed Chapman being arrested, and I've no intention of saying anything that might put them on his trail.'

‘Quite right, and I want everyone to bear that in mind,' said Leach. ‘We've got some work to do before we've got a strong enough case to submit to the CPS. As I'm sure you're all aware, the press are pretty cautious these days after an earlier experience when an innocent man who was questioned and then released without charge was hounded by the press for weeks. A lot of money was paid in compensation, but it took the poor chap a long time to rebuild his life. Just the same,' he went on, ‘it only takes one rogue reporter and an irresponsible editor of one of the red tops who thinks he's got a scoop to set the cat among the pigeons, so be doubly careful.'

‘How is Lily Chapman, sir?' asked Sukey. ‘She was terribly distressed when I left her.'

‘By all accounts she's a very brave lady,' said Leach. ‘After a tot of brandy and a few minutes to pull herself together she said something like “Well, the show must go on”, went to her private apartment to repair the damage to her make-up and has been carrying on since as if nothing had happened. She must have been delighted when her husband returned. I believe you took him home, Penny. How did she seem?'

‘I didn't see her when I took her husband back, sir,' said Penny. ‘I drove into a space in the car park and he just got out of the car and told me to leave right away. He seemed very anxious no one should see him in my company, probably in case someone happened to recognize me.'

‘That makes sense,' said Leach. ‘I've heard nothing so far to suggest that anyone apart from the office staff at the Manor actually witnessed the arrest. No doubt Lily's sworn them all to secrecy. You have a question, Sukey?' he said as she raised her hand.

While these exchanges were going on her thoughts had gone back to the scene in Lily's office when it had been obvious that despite the shortcomings in her marriage she was devoted to her husband. It was equally obvious to Sukey that he loved her very much and was a fundamentally good man overwhelmed by circumstances that had driven him to commit murder. ‘It's such a sad situation,' she said. ‘I'm wondering what will become of her, and to the business, if he's found guilty and sent to prison.'

Leach nodded. ‘I agree, it is a tragedy for both of them and it's difficult to say what will happen. It's hard to see how she could carry on with the business on her own. Fortunately that isn't our problem.' He closed the file that lay open on his desk. ‘Your next job is to look at the case from every angle, anticipate the sort of line a clever brief is likely to take, based on the evidence you've collected so far, and decide how best to deal with it. I'd like a further word with you, Greg; the rest of your team can go and get some lunch. They can then do some thinking on their own and I want everyone back here at three o'clock.'

‘What do you reckon, Sukey?' asked Vicky as they sat down with their sandwiches at a table in the canteen. ‘His account for his DNA being on the gloves is plausible, but he's going to have a job accounting for Law's being on them as well.'

‘We don't know for certain that he did a waiter's job at the formal dinner,' Sukey pointed out. ‘We should make a note to check that with the staff at the Manor.'

‘Good point,' Vicky agreed. ‘But if he didn't do the waiting job, he must have found the gloves lying around and put them in his pocket with the deliberate intention of putting them on to kill Law.'

‘But the formal dinner when he claims to have done the waiting job was at least a couple of weeks before Law was killed,' Sukey objected. ‘Chapman wouldn't have known until he overheard the phone call that Law had to be silenced.'

BOOK: The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural
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