As The Crow Flies (The DI Nick Dixon Crime Series) (10 page)

‘I wonder what’s happened to him then?’ asked Linda. ‘He’s usually very good at ringing in if he’s sick or something.’

‘Did he mention anything to anybody on Saturday?’

‘Not as far as I know. It was just a perfectly normal Saturday shift.’

‘What delivery route does he cover?’ asked Pearce.

‘He’s been doing the rural deliveries recently. Small hamlets, outlying cottages, farms, that sort of thing. He likes being out and about in the van.’

‘Did he mention the death of his climbing partner, Jake Fayter?’ asked Gorman.

‘He mentioned it once or twice. I knew he was upset by it and he took time off to go to the funeral, of course. Is this anything to do with that?’

‘We really can’t say, I’m afraid,’ replied Gorman.

‘His neighbour said he might have gone fishing on Sunday?’ asked Pearce.

‘Yes, that’s possible,’ replied Linda. ‘Climbing in the summer and fishing in the winter, I think it was.’

‘Did you know him well?’ asked Gorman.

‘As well as you know anyone you’ve worked with seventeen years.’

‘Did he have any friends he worked with?’

‘Yes, a couple. Tim was probably his best friend, Tim Keenan.’

‘Can we speak to him?’ asked Gorman.

‘He’s out on deliveries at the moment but he’ll be back in a couple of hours.’

Gorman produced his calling card and handed it to Linda Dickinson.

‘Could you ask Mr Keenan to call me on my mobile as soon as he gets back? We won’t be far away and can pop straight over to have a word with him.’

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Linda.

‘Thank you very much, you’ve been very helpful. Can we leave our car here?’

‘Certainly.’

Gorman and Pearce walked along Dunstan Road towards the town centre.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Pearce.

‘Breakfast.’

‘We’ll take your car if we may, Jane. I don’t think Miss Heath is going to want Monty breathing down her neck on the way back.’

‘You never know, she may be a dog person.’

Dixon smiled.

They drove in silence out through Bridgwater and north on the M5 towards Burnham-on-Sea. Torrential rain made the driving conditions difficult. Conversation was all but impossible with the noise of the rain and Jane’s windscreen wipers at full speed. Once off the motorway, Dixon felt able to speak.

‘You can do the talking, I think. I’ll step in and ruffle her feathers when I think the time is right.’

‘Ok.’

‘Tell me something, Jane.’

‘What, Sir?’

‘Is there some six-foot gorilla who would leap on me from a great height if I asked you out to dinner?’

‘Dinner?’

‘Yes, dinner.’

‘On a date, you mean?’

‘Well, that depends.’

‘What on?’

‘Your answer. If it’s a yes, then it’s a date. If it’s no then of course it wasn’t a date. You just got your wires crossed.’

‘Hedging your bets then?’

‘Like any good bookmaker…’

‘The answer to your question is no, there is no six-foot gorilla but I didn’t think that relationships with senior officers were the done thing?’

‘I’m hardly the Chief Constable. When you pass your sergeants’ exams, I’ll only be one rank above you.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I tell you what. Here’s the deal. As soon as I’m appointed Chief Constable, I’ll dump you straightaway. How’s that?’

‘Dinner it is then,’ said Jane, smiling, ‘on one condition.’

‘Sounds ominous.’

‘You tell me about this medal.’

‘Over dinner.’

‘Done.’

Jane turned right off Berrow Road into The Grove.

‘Back to the business in hand. Usual drill when we pick her up, arrest her if needs be and then take her through the whole story from the top in interview. Press her on the argument outside the Vic the night before Jake died too. I think that’s our man.  I’ll step in as and when.’

‘She’s going to love you.’

Sarah Heath answered the door. She did not look pleased to see them.

‘What the fuck is it now?’

‘I am Detective Constable Jane Winter. I believe you know Detective Inspector Nick Dixon, Sarah?’

‘Yes, and I’ve told him everything I know.’

‘I have to inform you that the death of Jake Fayter is now the subject of a murder investigation and we need a for…’

‘Murder investigation?’

‘Yes. We have reason to believe that his climbing ropes were tampered with.’

‘Oh fuck.’

Sarah started crying.

‘We need you to accompany us to Bridgwater Police Station, please, and…’

‘I told you everything I know.’

‘We believe that there may be further matters with which you can assist us,’ said Jane, ‘and I must insist that you accompany us to Bridgwater Police Station.’

‘And what if I tell you to fuck off?’

‘Then I’d have to arrest you, which will make for an uncomfortable ride to the police station in handcuffs and a lot of extra paperwork.’

Sarah glared at Dixon. ‘Is this for real?’

‘It is,’ said Dixon.

‘But I’ve told you the truth.’

‘The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

‘You’ve told me the truth,’ said Dixon, ‘I have no doubt about that. Nothing but the truth? Probably. But have you told me the whole truth? I don’t think so.’

‘What do I tell work?’

‘You could try telling them the truth too,’ replied Dixon. He nodded to Jane to take over.

‘Come on Sarah, get your coat.’

‘How long is this going to take?’

‘That depends on you.’

The drive to Bridgwater Police Station was uneventful and silent. Sarah Heath was booked in, cautioned and offered the opportunity of legal representation. She declined a solicitor on the grounds that she had nothing to hide. After the usual introductions and a reminder that she was under caution, the interview began just before 11.00am.

Dixon sat in silence while Jane took a formal statement from Sarah Heath. The interview was tape recorded and, as planned, covered all of the information already given by Sarah. Jane went through it all again in minute detail, covering where Sarah lived and worked, her relationship with Jake, how and when they met, Jake’s drug dealing and known associates, as well as his rock climbing activities and birds egg collecting. As instructed, Jane questioned Sarah closely on the argument outside the Vic but got nothing new.

During the course of the interview, Sarah’s emotions ranged from anger, irritation and frustration through to tears and sadness depending upon the line of questioning at the time. Dixon felt sure that her emotional response in each instance was genuine and, whilst no new information emerged, he was impressed with Jane’s meticulous approach.

After a little over two hours of questioning the interview appeared to be drawing to a natural conclusion. Jane looked at Dixon, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘Let’s go back to Jake’s drug dealing,’ said Jane.

‘For fuck’s sake we’ve been through that already.’

‘We’ll go through it one more time if we may. Which nightclubs did Jake frequent in Bridgwater?’

‘Rococo’s and the Paradise. They’re the only two. I’ve already told you.’

Dixon could see that Sarah was becoming angry. He leaned across the table and spoke slowly and quietly.

‘When did you find out that Jake killed your sister?’

Sarah sat back in her chair. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She looked up at the ceiling and then back to Dixon. She opened her mouth to speak but instead began sobbing. Dixon waited.

‘I…’ the words were lost in tears.

‘I believe what you’ve told me so far, so please don’t lie to me now.’

Sarah fixed Dixon in the gaze of her bloodshot eyes.

‘I thought it a bit odd that you bagged up his belongings and dumped them at his parents’ house so soon after he died,’ said Dixon.

Sarah sat up in her chair and wiped away the tears with the palms of her hands.

‘I found out the day after he died.’

‘On the Saturday?’ Dixon continued the questioning.

‘Yes.’

‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’

‘Because I knew what you’d think. You’d think I killed him.’

‘I don’t, as it happens, but then I’ve been wrong before.’

‘I didn’t kill him.’

‘I need to know how you found out about Jenna.’

‘I was working Friday night as usual and Jake wasn’t in when I got home about midnight. I thought he was probably out in either Bridgwater or Weston so I went to bed.’

‘Go on.’

‘He still wasn’t back when I woke up in the morning so I tried his mobile and got no reply. Then his father rang me. I was in a bit of a state so I told work I wouldn’t be in and went to see my mum.’

‘Ok, so that’s how you found out about Jake’s death. How did you find out he supplied the drugs to Jenna?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’ll think they killed Jake.’

‘So this person knew before Jake died that he supplied the drugs to Jenna?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I think we need to have a word with your mother then, don’t we?’

‘She didn’t kill him.’ Sarah was now sobbing uncontrollably.

‘Who told her?’

‘I don’t know, a policeman, I think.’

‘And she knew before Jake died that he was suspected of supplying the drugs that killed her youngest daughter. Is that right, Sarah?’

‘Yes, but she didn’t kill him.’

‘Where will we find your mum?’

‘I don’t know, she’s probably still at work.’

‘Where is that?’

‘The sorting office in Burnham-on-Sea. She’s the manager.’

Steve Gorman was sitting on the seafront with Mark Pearce enjoying an ice cream when his phone rang.

‘Steve Gorman.’

‘Steve, it’s Nick Dixon.’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Gorman turned to Pearce and raised his eyebrows.

‘Have you found Hunter?’

‘No, Sir. He’s not at work or at home. We’re just waiting for a work colleague to get back so we can have a word with him.’

‘What about neighbours?’

‘A Mrs Morton at number 16 Wells Close says that she saw him getting his fishing tackle ready on Saturday afternoon but she’s not seen him since. The assistant manager at the sorting office says that he didn’t turn up for work this morning either.’

‘Sorting office?’

‘Yes, Sir. Hunter is a postman.’

‘Did you see the manager?’

‘No, she’s not in today. We saw the assistant manager, Linda Dickinson.’

‘The manager, Steve, is Tina Williams. Jenna Williams’ mother.’

‘Oh shit.’

‘How much longer is this work colleague likely to be?’

‘I’m expecting a call any moment now.’

‘Ok, get a statement from him. Ask him if he knows where Hunter might have gone fishing and, if not, what type of fishing he did.’

‘Type of fishing?’

‘Yes, that will tell us where he might have gone. Then I need you to get over to 17 Bason Bridge Lane, East Huntspill, and pick up Tina Williams.’

‘Right.’

‘According to her daughter, she knew that Jake had supplied the drugs to Jenna but, at the moment, she is just helping us with our enquiries. Right?’

‘Yes, Sir, we’ll be as quick as we can.’

Dixon stood in front of the whiteboard with DCI Lewis, having spotted him coming a fraction too late to make good his escape.

‘Any developments, Nick?’

‘I’ve interviewed Sarah Heath who says that she found out after Jake died that he had supplied the drugs to her sister.’

‘Why didn’t she mention it before?’

‘So we didn’t think that she killed Jake apparently but the reality is that she was probably protecting the person who told her.’

‘And who was that?’

‘Her mother.’

‘Her mother?’

‘Yes. Imagine knowing that your eldest daughter’s boyfriend supplied the drugs that killed your youngest daughter.’

‘Motive enough murder, surely?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Dan Hunter has gone missing, or at least Steve Gorman can’t find him.’

‘Gorman couldn’t find his own backside with both hands.’

‘I’ll take your word for that, Sir. The interesting point, though, is that Hunter is a postman based at the sorting office in Burnham-on-Sea where Tina Williams, Jenna Williams’ mother, is the manager.’