Dead Money (A Detective Inspector Paul Amos Lincolnshire Mystery) (13 page)

A quarter of an hour later the pair were ensconced in a small café just outside Lincoln. Amos had two cups of tea paid for and on the table when Burns slipped in through the door.

Amos was already talking as Burns yanked her notebook and pen from her coat pocket. She was in her late 20s and talented enough to move on but she preferred the reassurance of her own beat in her home town.

“We have genuine reason to believe that the killer will strike again at Killiney Court,” Amos said quietly but firmly. “I have today taken the precaution of installing a police officer in the building during the hours of darkness. I have also ensured the safety of Jones's known business contacts, especially those living in Killiney Court.

“Don't be too direct but you can speculate that this is likely to include Joanna Stevens, who sometime did accounting work for Jones. Hint at Ray Warren being included since Jones invested in his business. But make it clear without being too specific that Stevens is the main one.

“Don't pin all that on me, please. I'm refusing to confirm or deny this but you can take it that what I've told you is true.

 "You can quote me as saying something like: 'There is a dangerous and particularly vicious killer out there and we are taking every precaution to see that this person does not strike again' - the usual sort of stuff. Make something up along those lines, just as long as it's grammatical."

"Are you making any progress in the investigation?" Burns asked.

Amos could hardly blame her for trying to seek out more information.

 "It's still early days," he replied without much conviction. "You can say you believe there is a serious suspect but, again, please don't be too specific. A couple of new lines of inquiry have cropped up today and there are people connected with Jones and Killiney Court who will be interviewed again.

"You can say specifically that we have interviewed all the residents of Killiney Court and eliminated those who were away at the time. Also we have been talking to known associates of Jones, both business and religious.

"Get that lot into the final edition and you have an exclusive. I'll hold off Radio Lincolnshire until you've hit the streets. Don't bother checking this out with the police press office, even if you have time. Only you and I know about this."

Burns nodded, took the last remaining mouthful of tea and vanished. She did not let Amos down, for the story made front page lead in the final edition under a "Killiney Court exclusive" banner, adorned with mugshots of Jones and Amos and "By Sheila Burns" in large type.

"Police fear the Killiney Court killer will strike again, I can reveal exclusively. Inspector Paul Amos, who is in charge of the investigation, is believed to have posted an officer at the block of flats throughout the night to prevent a further attack.

"Police are not releasing the names of those they believe could be in danger but any surveillance is likely to target known associates of murder victim Ray Jones. These include Joanna Stevens, who acted as accountant for Jones on several occasions and who also lives at Killiney Court. Another Killiney Court resident who had business dealings with Mr Jones is Scott Warren.

"Amos declines to reveal specific details of the police operation but he did tell me this afternoon: 'We are looking for a particularly vicious killer.'

"His team have interviewed all the Killiney Court residents and eliminated those who were away on the Friday night that Mr Jones was brutally beaten to death. They have also talked to a wider circle of business associates and to worshippers he knew at the church he attended. I can reveal that several will be interviewed again."

The story then recapped details of the murder. Altogether it made an impressive show, more than enough to get the message across. Even if the illiterate Berry was the murderer, he was bound to hear all about it in the pub.

By the time the newspaper hit the streets, Amos had had the opportunity to brief the Chief Constable, who took the news gloomily but with slightly more equanimity than Stevens had done.

"The fact is," he told Amos rather unkindly, "the fact is that you are no nearer to solving this crime than you were when you started. You've got one suspect you're not getting any further forward with, and you can't hold him.

"Just remember we can't keep personal bodyguards going indefinitely. The sooner we call this one off the better. Keep me informed."

Chapter 26

“Today, Sgt Swift,” Amos announced perfunctorily, “we are going to do something we should have done sooner. Would you get the car please. We are going to obtain a warrant to search Jim Berry’s house.

“We’ll need a couple of constables from the team to take the place apart. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Shall I get one of them to go for the warrant, Sir?” Swift asked.

“No, we’ll get that ourselves. We can talk over the case as we go. Tell the other two to get round to Berry’s and if he’s there to keep him talking until we arrive.”

Amos was keen to get the warrant himself because no progress had been made on his earlier order for one to be obtained immediately. As Jenkins had explained subsequently, they had not known at police HQ who Jim Berry was, let alone where he lived.

Swift drove and Amos talked, as much to himself, to put his own thoughts in order, as to his junior officer.

“It’s all stacked against Berry. He’s shifty, he looks guilty. He visited Killiney Court regularly. He knew the building. He had every reason to hate Jones. And he would be in the right flat. He knew they had been renumbered.

“And yet it doesn’t quite add up. Something’s missing. He genuinely seems grateful to Jones and sees him as a saviour rather than a villain.”

“He could have got access to Jones’s flat though,” Swift interjected. “If, as Berry says, Jones didn’t want to be seen entertaining a scruffy down and out, he wouldn’t have kept Berry on the doorstep. He’d have got him inside smartish before one of the neighbours saw him.

“Jones would be off guard. If Barry had finally rumbled him and come for revenge, Jones wouldn’t have realised it.”

Swift pulled into the drive of the magistrate who had been alerted to sign the paperwork.  They were spotted from the house window and the door swung open as Amos raised his hand to the knocker.

The magistrate was a former school headmistress who had recently retired, a stern woman with a touch of humanity.  She raised an eyebrow.

“I see you have turned up in person, inspector,” she remarked dryly.  “Should I take this as an honour?”

“It’s always an honour to visit you, Miss Woodward,” Amos remarked unabashed.

“Humph,” she said, looking at the papers.  “It’s more to do with the importance of the Jones case than the pleasure of seeing me.”

Amos took the signed documents without a word.  His mind was still on the subject.  Back in the car he picked up where he had left off.

“Let’s consider who else there is.  Warren certainly had a motive.  Jones had rumbled him.  He’d left a message on the answering machine trying to fix up to see him.  Suppose Jones relented and allowed him to pop round to plead his case.  No one was likely to see Warren nip next door and back again.

“Foster’s another with opportunity.  He could wander around and no one would think anything of it.  He would just be doing his job, sweeping the landings.

“He could have gained access to Jones’s flat on a pretext.  But what’s his motive?  Same with the security guard on duty that night. He had opportunity.  We know from Foster he used to wander from his post for a cigarette.  He could easily have slipped upstairs for a few minutes instead.  Perhaps he’s got some grudge against Jones from a past life.

“The trouble with them all, though, is how did Jones come to be murdered in his bed?”

“Could he have been hit somewhere else in the flat and then moved?”  Swift suggested.

“Not with all that blood on the bed,” Amos objected.  “That’s where he was killed.”

“Then unless Jones had homosexual tendencies that we haven’t uncovered yet, the murderer was a woman after all.”

“Joanne Stevens,” Amos mused.  “Well, she was another with opportunity.  Jones could have responded to her message on the answering machine and asked her down to talk over how they were going to deal with Warren.  Then she lured him into bed.”

“With an iron bar?”  It was Swift’s turn to raise an objection.  “How did that get there?”

By now she was pulling up outside Berry’s small and humble home.  Amos jumped out and rapped on the door.

Berry’s joy at having an inquisition by two detective constables interrupted was short lived.  The smile was quickly wiped from his face as he found Amos on his doorstep with Swift right behind him.  Amos brushed passed the muttering Berry and was into the small front room before producing his precious piece of paper.

“It’s a search warrant, Mr. Berry,” he announced briefly.  “We are going to search your house.”

Berry made no protest.  He sat down in one of the two dilapidated armchairs that had been vacated by a detective constable when Amos had walked in.  He said not a word. 

“We’ll start upstairs.  You can accompany us if you wish.”  Amos offered.

Berry shook his head.  Amos nodded to Swift to indicate that she was to stay with Berry.  If he feared that the latter was about to remove some incriminating piece of evidence he need not have worried.  Berry ignored Swift and sat motionless, staring at the threadbare carpet.

Up the narrow staircase with the walls painted lime green, the three male officers found two small bedrooms and a bathroom.  One bedroom was empty.  The bare floorboards were all firmly laid down and showed no signs of having been lifted.  DC Clarke went into the bathroom and the other officer into the bedroom that Berry slept in.

Amos hovered at the top of the stairs where he could watch the search of both rooms.  There was nothing of interest in the small wooden bathroom cabinet with a sliding glass front: just a shaving brush and razor together with a toothbrush that had seen better days.  There was not even a tube of toothpaste. 

The officer took a perfunctory peep into the toilet system.

Suddenly Amos commented: “Stand in front of the cabinet.”

Startled, Clarke did as he was told.

“It’s the only mirror in the bathroom,” Amos went on. “There’s no bulb in the socket. The window to your right is the only source of light. That’s why Berry shaves better on that side of his face, Sherlock.”

Amos mooched into the bedroom.  The wallpaper was old and floral.  Simple red curtains, heavy and faded, hung open.  The matching carpet was well worn.

The bed was unmade and a pair of trousers and a shirt were lying on a wooden chair.

The constable had already been through the modest contents of a chest of drawers.  Amos opened the door of a single wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture in the room.  In the bottom were a pair of shoes with distinct traces of mud.  Amos picked them up.

A pair of trousers had similar splashes around the turnups.  Amos took possession of these items of clothing and left his constable to check through the rest.

“What exactly are we looking for?”  The officer asked.

Amos shrugged.

“Anything that might link him to the murder.  Who knows?” 

Amos peered into the pale blue bathroom, with its dirty, uncurtained window to the right of the wash basin.  Paint was peeling from the wall in places. 

There were strips of black mould along part of the rubber sealing where the bath met the wall.  The officer in here had unscrewed the side panel of the bath but had discovered nothing except dust and pipes.

Amos plodded downstairs, where he could hear Swift opening and closing drawers. He held the shoes in one plastic bag and the trousers in another.  Berry opened his mouth to protest but Amos spoke first.

“I’m taking these in to have the mud analysed,” he announced abruptly.

A few minutes later the two constables came down the stairs empty handed.

“Thanks for your cooperation, Mr Berry,” Amos said with comical courtesy.  “My sergeant will give you a receipt for the shoes and trousers.

“We’ll be in touch.”

Chapter 27

It was early evening when Amos went along to interview Mr and Mrs Jack and Vera Smith in flat 8D. There was no need to take another officer along. They were all working long enough hours as it was. Amos would add to the burden only when it was necessary.

Mrs Smith seemed a little annoyed at having to answer the door and somewhat more annoyed at seeing Amos’s warrant card.

“I can’t think why you want to talk to us again,” she said peevishly. “We gave up half an hour to talk to your constable. It’s hardly our fault if he didn’t write it all down in the first place – not that we know anything about this business anyway,” she added hastily.

Amos stood before the open door, taking the tirade in resigned silence while maintaining an air of expecting to be admitted. Unable to shake him off, Mrs Smith added with a pause: “Well, I suppose you’ll have to come in then. But you’ll have to wait. We’re still eating. Mr Smith has been on the go all day and he likes his evening meal in peace.”

Amos grunted assent and stepped inside. Mrs Smith showed him into the living room with a perfunctory “wait here” and disappeared into the kitchen/diner, closing the door behind her.

Amos was not too sorry for a few moments delay. It gave him time to put his thoughts in order after a heavy day. It also presented the opportunity to assess the Smiths by looking round their living room.

The furniture was modern and expensive, chrome and leather, designed to impress rather than for comfort. There was one older leather chair, sagging a little from usage. It was of the type that could be adjusted to lean back in with a footrest swinging up in front. Presumably Mr Smith liked his comfort when he was at home, whatever he might inflict on his wife and visitors.