Unnatural Wastage (4 page)

‘So you work in the same department as Ms Tremaine,' Sukey commented.

‘Haven't I just said so?'

‘Which is?'

‘Administration and Accounts. Should really be two separate departments but they were lumped together under the late chairman. There used to be an overall supremo – pompous know-it-all, thought he was God Almighty – but he retired and so far no one's been appointed to take his place.'

‘Presumably the decision will depend on the result of the shake-up DS Reynolds referred to a moment ago?' said Rathbone.

‘I suppose so.'

‘I imagine it's quite a well-paid, responsible position for which there would be considerable competition?' Ellerman made no reply, but took a further pull at his drink. ‘Do you consider yourself eligible, sir?'

‘I certainly have the qualifications and experience.'

‘Which are?'

‘I have a law degree and an MBA – that's a master's degree in business administration.'

‘Thank you sir, I'm aware of what an MBA is.' Sukey could tell from the edge to Rathbone's voice that he was becoming irritated with Ellerman's condescending attitude, but he merely said, ‘And your doctorate, sir?'

‘Human Relations in the Workplace.'

‘What about Ms Tremaine?'

‘I believe she has – had – a degree in some arts subject, but she was taken on at Maxworth's as an accountant.'

‘Presumably she is qualified?'

‘Yes, either chartered or certified – I'm not sure which.' Ellerman looked at his watch, reached for a remote control and waved it towards a large television. ‘Your time's up. I'll see you out. You can get me in my office if you want to ask any more questions.'

‘We shall certainly want to speak to you again, sir,' said Rathbone as he and Sukey followed him to his front door, ‘so perhaps you'll let us know if your business commitments require you to leave the area.'

‘You can contact us on this number.' Sukey handed Ellerman one of her business cards.

He took the card and looked her directly in the eye. ‘It would be a pleasure talking to
you
at any time, Constable Reynolds,' he said in a voice that made Sukey think of oiled silk before closing the door behind them.

Once outside the building, Rathbone exploded. ‘If there was a prize for being the most ill-mannered, condescending, self-opinionated oaf in the city, Ellerman would be a front runner!' he exclaimed.

‘He also fancies himself as a bit of a sexpot,' Sukey commented drily.

Rathbone, his pent-up irritation relieved by his outburst, gave a chuckle. ‘Yes, I noticed him giving you the eye. I have to admit he's a good-looking bastard. It would be interesting to know what the overall supremo who retired thought of Doctor Ellerman! I wonder,' he said in a sudden change of tone, ‘if his dislike of the late Fenella Tremaine had something to do with the fact that he tried it on with her and got the elbow. She must have been an attractive woman.'

‘He gave us to understand that she rubbed quite a few people up the wrong way,' Sukey pointed out.

‘I suspect he's inclined to exaggerate when it suits him. Wilkins might have been a bit shaken by his discovery, but “practically gibbering” sounds a bit OTT.' Rathbone knitted his brows and thought for a moment. ‘I wonder why he was so keen to get Wilkins into his flat.'

‘Perhaps he thought Wilkins might have noticed him and Fenella crossing swords about something and wanted to persuade him not to mention it to us,' Sukey suggested.

‘Maybe. It'll be interesting to hear how far other people, among both the neighbours and their colleagues at Maxworth Foods, share his opinion of Ms Tremaine. By the way, how come you know so much about the company?'

‘Harry Matthews has been following the story for the
Echo
and we were talking about it the other day.'

‘Ah yes, your young news-hound,' said Rathbone. ‘So you two are still an item?'

‘In a manner of speaking, Sarge,' Sukey admitted with a smile.

‘Good luck to you. OK, let's see how the CSIs are getting on.'

By the time they left Ellerman's flat the ambulance and police cars had left and been replaced by a mobile police station. They went inside and found Sergeant Drury and a uniformed constable drinking tea.

‘We could do with a cuppa if there's one going,' said Rathbone. ‘We've just been interviewing a witness who sat swilling scotch without offering us so much as a sniff at the bottle, and informed us he could only spare fifteen minutes before his favourite telly programme started.'

Drury gave a sympathetic grin. ‘That wouldn't be Mr Ellerman, by any chance?'

‘Got it in one, but it's
Doctor
Ellerman, he'd have us know.' Rathbone's tone was sardonic. ‘He admitted he didn't like the victim “before we heard it from anyone else” he was at pains to tell us. He went on to add that she wasn't flavour of the month with a lot of people, either here or at work, but that he didn't know of anyone who'd want to murder her. That included himself, of course. He's employed by the same company as she was, by the way – Maxworth Foods.'

‘We didn't know that,' Drury handed mugs of tea to Rathbone and Sukey, which they accepted gratefully, ‘but we do know that he and the deceased weren't exactly best friends. One of the statements we have here –' he took a sheet from a folder and handed it to Rathbone – ‘is from a Mr John Yardley. He lives at number thirty on the third floor in the second block and he mentioned a rather acrimonious argument between the two of them at a recent residents' meeting – not the first, he told us.'

Rathbone was scanning the statement. ‘He says he used to be her line manager before he retired, but knows nothing of her private life,' he commented. ‘We'll see him tomorrow.'

‘There's another statement here – a joint statement by two ladies. One of them – a Miss Kate Springfield – has lived at number eight for the past six months. The other is her cousin, Miss Patricia Godwin, who was spending the day with her. They're both what my father would have described as “maiden ladies of a certain age”. Miss Springfield claims she's hardly spoken to Tremaine and knows nothing about her except that she was at the residents' meeting I just mentioned and witnessed the “difference of opinion” as she called it with Doctor Ellerman. She was rather upset and wanted her cousin to stay with her overnight, but Miss Godwin insisted she had to go home to feed Henry.'

‘Her dog?' said Sukey.

Drury grinned. ‘No, her cat. Quite a remarkable animal, I understand.'

‘Well, if Kate has only lived here for six months she's unlikely to know much about any bad relationships between neighbours,' commented Rathbone, ‘but as she witnessed the spat between Tremaine and Ellerman we'd better pay her a visit. Needless to say, we'll be having another talk to him as well.' He drained his mug and stood up. ‘That's all for now. See you tomorrow.'

‘It's turned out to be quite an interesting weekend after all,' said Vicky drily as she and Sukey headed for their respective cars.

First thing the following morning DCI Leach summoned Rathbone and his team to his office. ‘Right, troops,' he began, ‘I'll bring you up to date and then I'll have your reports. The victim has been formally identified as Fenella Tremaine, aged forty-five, by her daughter, Nancy Brotherton, who lives in Bath. She hadn't seen her mother for some time and it appears they weren't on the best of terms – they fell out over Nancy's choice of partner. She appeared shocked, but not particularly grieved by her mother's death and we'll certainly need to talk to her again. Any questions?'

Penny Osborne put up her hand. ‘Did Nancy recognize the murder weapon, sir?

‘She said she'd never seen it before, and so far as she knows her mother never had any interest in oriental gizmos. Not that we've any reason to think she was stabbed with her own knife. We've called a press conference for eleven o'clock tomorrow and I'd like to give them something to prove we haven't been taking it easy just because it's the weekend. I've gone through your initial reports and there are obviously a lot of questions we'll want answers to. The first is, did the killer stab Tremaine as she was dumping a bag of rubbish and heave her body into Sycamore Park, or was she killed somewhere else and brought to the skip by car and her body thrown into the skip? Any thoughts on that, Greg?'

‘Well sir, as the caretaker picks up the black bags of rubbish and takes them to the skips daily Monday to Friday, there doesn't seem to be any reason why she should be taking stuff there. However, he told us that she was one of a number of people who sometimes take their own empty bottles, food cans, newspapers and so on to the recycling bins. CSIs will be checking the contents for fingerprints and also sifting through the contents of the bags she was lying on . . . after they've done all the necessary checks for blood and so on.'

‘So she could have been there to dump her empties, the killer happened to be there at the same time, complete with knife, stuck it into her back, heaved her up into the skip and scarpered. That sounds a bit unlikely, don't you think?'

‘If the killer was a resident he might have seen her heading for the shed with a bag of stuff, seen his opportunity and followed her.'

‘So we're talking about a premeditated killing?'

‘Things do seem to point in that direction, sir.'

‘Has Doc Hanley given us an approximate time of death?'

‘He thinks she'd been dead for eight to ten hours, so somewhere between ten and midnight on Friday.'

‘What about lighting?'

‘Sunset was just before nine, but the sky was clear so there'd have been some natural light for another hour or so. There are security lights, but all except a few at the entry and exit points to the estate are switched off at midnight. According to Sergeant Drury, there had been some arguments about this in the past. Some people wanted to keep them on all night while others were keen to see their electricity charges kept to a minimum.'

‘I wonder if that was behind the spat between Tremaine and Ellerman that Miss Springfield mentioned,' said Leach. ‘It seems you've got plenty there to be going on with, Greg. Has anyone anything else to add?'

Vicky Armstrong put up her hand. ‘Excuse me, sir, but something's occurred to me that could be relevant.'

‘Yes Vicky, what is it?'

‘I've been doing some work on the Holmwood Care Home case. The son of one of the former residents is trying to sue them for causing the death of his mother by negligence, even though the verdict was death from natural causes with no suspicious circumstances.'

Leach nodded. ‘I remember. What about it?'

‘Well, sir, it may be a coincidence, but one of the people he wants to call as a witness is Fenella Tremaine.'

B
ack in the CID office, Rathbone said, ‘Let's get our priorities right,' and marched over to the vending machine. When they were all settled with their mugs of coffee he sat down at his computer and opened a file. ‘Up till now,' he went on, ‘we've been working on the assumption that the motive for Fenella Tremaine's murder lies somewhere in Sycamore Park and that the killer is most likely a resident. Now, however, it seems that Vicky's hit on an unexpected new lead which might point us in a different direction. So here's the programme for today.' His fingers moved over the keyboard as he spoke. ‘Vicky and Sukey, you are to locate the person who's planning to sue the Holmwood Care Home and get him to tell you the circumstances of his mother's death, who he blames for it and in particular why he was hoping to cite Fenella as a witness. You'll need to visit the home and talk to the staff, of course, but I suggest you first have a word with the director of the company that runs it. And be tactful – they're probably feeling pretty sensitive at the moment on account of all the media interest.'

‘Right, Sarge,' said Vicky.

Rathbone moved the mouse, clicked and then waved his coffee mug towards DC Haskins, ‘You, Mike, will have another go at Wilkins. I thought he was a bit evasive when I asked him about Fenella and her relationship with the other tenants; I had a feeling he didn't like her very much, so dig a little deeper. He also indicated that he's had friendly chats with other residents and it's possible he's picked up the odd comment along the way that may have given him an idea of how they feel about her. I notice from some of the witness statements,' he was scrolling down the screen as he spoke, ‘that some mixed opinions were expressed. One lady claimed not to know her very well but said, “She was often heard criticizing the caretaker or cleaners or the gardeners for not doing their jobs properly. I'm sure she did it with the best of intentions, but . . .” Another witness was more forthright and described her as a busybody. One woman said, “I don't wish to speak ill of the dead, but she did tend to throw her weight around and that upset some people.” See what Wilkins has to say about that.'

‘Will do, Sarge.'

‘You, Tim –' Rathbone pointed at DC Pringle – ‘will call on Mr Yardley. He witnessed the spat between Fenella and Ellerman but all he said about it in his statement –' here Rathbone scrolled back until he found the quote he was looking for – ‘was that it had “something to do with how the sinking fund was apportioned between the two buildings” and that “the pair of them always seemed to find something to argue about”. He knew Fenella as an employee in his department, but it might be as well to get an idea of what he personally thought of her – and of Ellerman, for that matter. Meanwhile, of course, uniformed are collecting more statements for you to go through. I'm particularly interested in any remarks or opinions about Fenella that have been overheard recently, or any instances of arguments with neighbours other than the spat at the meeting.'