Deadly Investment (A Fitzjohn Mystery Book 5) (17 page)

‘Then tell us how your finger prints got on the door-jamb?’

‘Probably because before I left the building that afternoon I went to see Beatrice in her office but she wasn’t there. I thought she must be upstairs in the apartment so I went up.’ Ziegler ran his hand across the back of his neck. ‘I knocked but she didn’t answer the door. I probably put my hand on the door-jamb. I don’t remember,’ replied Ziegler in a soft voice as tears glistened his eyes.

Fitzjohn terminated the interview and followed by Betts, left the room.

‘We can’t keep Mr Ziegler any longer, Betts. Have him released.’

With a sense of frustration, Fitzjohn made his way to the Incident Room where he sat down heavily into one of the chairs facing the whiteboard and methodically studied the information and photographs displayed.

‘Sir?’ He turned when he heard Betts’s voice. ‘The lab reports on the shoe print and the victim’s clothing are back from forensics.’ Betts crossed the room and handed the reports to Fitzjohn. ‘The shoe print is of a European brand called Stefano Bremer,’ continued Betts as they sat down.

‘Bremer,’ repeated Fitzjohn. ‘If I’m not mistaken they’re expensive, not to mention stylish.’

‘They are, sir. Expensive, that is. I did a bit of research. They retail for around two thousand dollars a pair.’

‘And who do you think would wear such shoes?’ asked Fitzjohn as he ran his eyes over the report.

‘I’d say that they’d go well with Portland Moore’s life-style, sir.’

‘I agree,’ replied Fitzjohn, thinking back to Portland’s home of glass in Clondarf set in the tranquil Balinese garden. ‘Apply to the Magistrate for a search warrant for his home, Betts. Also his dressing room at the theatre.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Betts got up to leave.

‘And Betts.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘I also want a search done of Giles Enfield’s home and office as well as the house he stayed in at Port Macquarie for those four days. And in that particular regard, make allowances for travelling time because I want these searches done simultaneously.’

Betts gave Fitzjohn a questioning look. ‘I thought we’d discounted Giles Enfield, sir.’

‘We had but....’ Fitzjohn ran his hand across the back of his neck. ‘I just have this feeling that... Oh. I don’t know, Betts. Maybe it’s because of my recent experience with the Police Integrity Board,’ he continued after a moment’s hesitation. ‘I know it’s using extra resources, but I just want to be thorough.

CHAPTER 21

Fitzjohn arrived home that night full of anticipation about the forthcoming searches as well as Grieg’s reaction to the use of extra manpower and the time involved. No doubt tomorrow would prove to be a challenge in both respects. He placed the mail and his briefcase on the kitchen table and started to take off his suit coat when the doorbell sounded. ‘Who can that be at this hour?’ he mumbled as he made his way back along the hall to the front door. He opened it to find Rhonda Butler and Blossom.

Despite Rhonda’s frozen expression and stiff posture, Fitzjohn smiled. ‘Good evening ladies. And Blossom. Let me say that I’m very pleased to see that you’ve been released from the hospital. Won’t you come in?’

Blossom, her wide smile framed by wisps of hair, some of which had escaped the floral scarf that held her wavy hair in place, went to move forward across the threshold. As she did so, Rhonda’s hand came down on her forearm. Blossom’s eyes darted sideways at her sister in annoyance before she turned back to Fitzjohn. ‘Thank you, Mr Fitzjohn, but we can’t. Edwin’s waiting for us in the car. He’s our brother. I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. And so does Rhonda. Don’t you, Rhonda?’ Blossom gave her sister a nudge.

‘Yes, I do,’ replied Rhonda through pursed lips.

‘
And
.’ Blossom gave Rhonda another nudge.

‘And we’d like to make this small offering to express our gratitude.’ With that, Rhonda opened a carry bag and produced a blue plastic pot containing an orchid, its petals a soft pink with deeper pink centres.

Taken aback, as well as realising how difficult this exercise was for Rhonda Butler, Fitzjohn said, ‘Thank you. This is a kind gesture and I’ll pass your gratitude along to Martin Betts. After all, without him the outcome might have been very different.’ An awkward silence ensued before Fitzjohn continued, ‘Where are you ladies staying for the time being?’

‘With Edwin,’ replied Rhonda. ‘He’s kindly offered us accommodation until my house repairs are finished.’ Rhonda sighed. ‘There’s a lot to do, of course, but I’m told that it can be restored to its former self.’ Blossom nudged Rhonda again. Rhonda swallowed hard. ‘I’d also like to acknowledge that without your quick action, my home would have been lost, so thank you.’ Rhonda breathed a sigh. ‘Well, we must be off. Edwin will be getting impatient. Come along on, Blossom.’

‘Thank you again,’ said Blossom with a lingering smile as Rhonda tugged at her arm.

‘Take care of yourself, Blossom.’

Fitzjohn closed the door and smiled to himself as he walked back to the kitchen carrying the pink pot. He placed the new arrival on the table and stood back to study its delicate blooms. ‘A phalaenopsis, and a beautiful specimen at that. I’d never have guessed, Rhonda, but you’re an excellent judge of orchids that do well in greenhouses. Who would have thought?’

CHAPTER 22

Fitzjohn arrived at the station at dawn the following morning and walked into the Incident Room to find it filled with those officers who were to be involved in the various searches. Betts stood at the head of the room in conversation with each team leader and turned to Fitzjohn when he approached.

‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Morning, Betts. It looks like you have everything under control.’

‘Yes, sir. We have the necessary warrants for all the properties. Williams and his team left some time ago for Port Macquarie and should be in place by nine o’clock. As soon as I hear from him, we’ll begin.’

‘Very good.’

‘Will you be accompanying one of the teams, sir?’

‘No, not this time, Betts. I’ll leave it all in your capable hands.’

‘There’s probably one thing you should be aware of, sir. The Chief Superintendent isn’t pleased about the drain on manpower.’

‘Mmm. I expected as much and it’s one of the reasons I’m staying behind.’ Fitzjohn gave a wry smiled. ‘Just to reassure him that all will be back to normal in a matter of hours.’

Fitzjohn paced the floor of his office, anxious for word of the operation and waiting for the Chief Superintendent’s reaction. He did not have to wait long. The door flew open and Grieg walked into the room, his face contorted with anger.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing conducting these searches and using all my resources without my permission?’ he screamed.

‘Good morning, sir,’ replied Fitzjohn. ‘I did attempt to acquire your permission last night, but I was told you were attending a function at the Cruising Yacht Club and could not be disturbed. I therefore made an executive decision because I know that my solving the case into Preston Alexander’s untimely death is of priority importance to you.’ Fitzjohn smiled.

Grieg spluttered with frustration and said, ‘You’d better pray that these searches do solve his murder, Fitzjohn, because you have just tied up every officer I have.’

‘A little exaggeration there, sir, but I do concur that with so many searches happening simultaneously, it has been a drain. Nevertheless, everyone concerned should be back and available for you very shortly. Except, perhaps Williams and his team. It’ll take them a couple of hours to drive back from Port Macquarie.’

With his face reddening with rage, Grieg turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Fitzjohn looked at his watch and continued to pace until in mid-afternoon the door opened again and Betts appeared.

‘Ah, there you are, Betts. How did you get on?’

Betts shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. Nothing at Portland Moore’s home or his dressing room at the theatre.’

‘What about the other searches?’

‘Nothing there either, sir. Giles Enfield’s home and his office are clean. There’s only the house at Port Macquarie left. Williams conducted that search. He hasn’t reported in yet but it shouldn’t be too much longer.’

Fitzjohn’s brow furrowed. ‘Okay. Let me know as soon as you hear anything.’

‘Yes, sir.’

As Betts left the room, Fitzjohn ran his hand through the few wisps of hair on the top of his head before he slumped down heavily into his chair. There he remained for the next hour while doubt about the wisdom of his action concerning the searches crept into his thoughts. If they didn’t produced a result, what then? Would he have to admit failure in solving the crime? As this prospect loomed in his mind, a knock sounded and Williams walked into the room, his expression unreadable. A sinking feeling went through Fitzjohn. ‘Have a seat, Williams,’ he said sitting forward. ‘By the look on your face, I take you had no luck.’

‘Oh, but we did, sir.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes. In the end, anyway. We were about to give up but one of the boys started poking around in an old compost heap at the bottom of the back garden. He found the shoes smouldering away inside.’

Fitzjohn’s hand went across his mouth. ‘Thank goodness for that,’ he said at last. ‘Are the soles in-tact?’

‘They are, sir. Forensics have them now. They’re matching them up with the cast of the shoe print found at the crime scene.’

Fitzjohn sat back and smiled.

When the office door opened, Giles Enfield could be seen standing behind his desk looking out through the gothic window, the sun lighting up the hand-stitched threads of his grey suit through its diamond shaped panes. He turned as Fitzjohn and Betts walked into the room.

‘I can’t think what you’re here for again. You’ve ransacked my home and this office. What more do you want?’

‘We want to arrest you for the murders of Preston Alexander and Beatrice Maybrick as well as for the embezzlement of agency funds,’ replied Fitzjohn.

‘On what grounds?’

‘On the grounds that we found the shoes you were wearing the night you killed Preston Alexander. The sole prints left in the ground around his body match perfectly with those found smouldering in the compost heap at the back of the house you stayed at in Port Macquarie. Also quietly smouldering were the clothes you wore that night. The clothes have provided further evidence of your presence at the crime scene. The dust found on them is from the Cremorne Reserve as well as traces of a certain type of pollen that’s only found in that area. A rare species of native plant, I’m told, that’s been nurtured over the last few years by a gardening club. Oh, and there’s something else. We found the spoils of your embezzlement in the roof cavity of the Port Macquarie house. Are they enough grounds?’ asked Fitzjohn with a smile before he continued.

‘Why did you kill Preston Alexander, Mr Enfield?’ Enfield remained silent. ‘You needn’t bother to answer because I believe I know. It was because he knew that you were responsible for Beatrice’s death, wasn’t it?’ Giles’s face paled. ‘And let me guess. The reason you killed Beatrice is because Preston had told her about your past deeds of embezzlement and disqualification by the Companies Office. You had to get rid of her before she told anyone else.’

Giles swallowed hard and shook his head. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t mean to kill her. She slipped backwards down the stairs when she tried to push me away from the apartment doorway.’

‘And what did Preston Alexander do to deserve death?’ asked Fitzjohn.

‘He didn’t believe me. He told me he was going to the police.’

Giles slumped into his chair as Betts read him his rights.

‘What made you think that Enfield was guilty, sir?’ asked Betts later that day.

‘It was that briefcase of his.’

‘Briefcase?’

‘Yes. He was carrying it the day we met him. Carefully wiping the rain from its leather. I recognised the brand straight away. Made in Europe. Hand stitched and ultra-expensive. I have no idea what a literary agent earns, but I know it isn’t enough to fund such an item. Unless, of course, one did a little embezzling on the side. But to prove it - impossible until Williams found that money in the roof cavity. And then you mentioned the European shoes. I thought that they’d go so well with that briefcase.

CHAPTER 23

Fitzjohn placed his papers in his briefcase and closed the lid before slipping on his suit coat. As he did so, the door opened and Betts, dressed in a tuxedo, strode into the room.

‘Ah! You must be hosting this Friday night’s
group
dinner,’ he said, taking in his young sergeant’s well-groomed appearance. ‘What culinary experience have you got planned for them, Betts?’

‘I’m taking your advice, sir. It’s to be a “barbecue”. Steak, fresh green salad and a good red wine from the Hunter Valley. It might be the last dining experience I have with “the group” but I’ll take my chances. The wine I’m serving, by the way, is from Five Oaks. Charlotte and Rafe sent me a case last week. It’s their first joint grape harvest.’

‘Things must be going well for them.’ Fitzjohn thought back to his investigation into the untimely death of Esme’s nephew, Michael Rossi. ‘I’m glad that it’s all worked out for Charlotte and Rafe.’

Fitzjohn looked Betts up and down. ‘I take it you haven’t asked your dinner guests to come casual.’

‘No, sir. This is going to be a classy barbecue.’ Betts headed for the door.

‘Before you go, Betts, I want to thank you for all your work on the case over these past few weeks. Not to mention your valiant effort during the fire. How’s the leg, by the way.’

‘Healing well, sir.’

‘Give my love to Sophie.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘Does she know it’s a barbecue?’

‘No,’ replied Betts with a mischievous smile.

As the door closed behind Betts, Fitzjohn walk over to the window and looked down onto the street below, still buzzing with traffic, despite the late hour. Turning he spied Edith’s photograph sitting on the filing cabinet and smiled before picking up his briefcase, opening the office door and switching off the light.