Fatal Act (34 page)

‘Can you tell me anything else about him?’

‘What would you like to know?’

She shrugged. ‘What did he do?’

‘I thought I told you, he was a stunt man.’

A
ll at once, a mist lifted in Geraldine’s mind. Piers had unwittingly exposed the killer to her. He might have revealed the truth before, only the first time he had told her she hadn’t been listening. That was what she had half-remembered, Ian’s comment that it had been ‘some stunt’ for the killer to vanish from the scene of the crime. While they had been wracking their brains to discover how the killer had managed to get away from the crime scenes, the answer had been staring them in the face all the time. The one aspect of the case that had been a constant source of discussion and speculation had been telling them the killer’s identity right from the start.

O
nly a stunt man could escape alive from a speeding car, climb safely off a bridge and out of a third floor window. And Darius was a retired stunt man nursing an insane hatred of Piers.

‘How did Ella die?’

‘She drowned in the bath.’

‘At home?’

‘Of course.’

‘Were you in the house at the time?’

He frowned. ‘Yes, I was, but if you think –’

Geraldine didn’t wait to hear any more of his protestation. The important issue wasn’t her conclusions, but those of Ella’s brother. She ran from the room, grabbing at her phone. With trembling fingers she dialled Sam’s number. There was no reply.

S
AM
FOUND
A
PARKING
space opposite a school, several doors along from her destination. A light sleet was falling as she stepped out of the car and made her way towards the converted house where Darius occupied the first floor. Freezing droplets splashed around her. A few hit her face like icy prickles. Although it was only four o’clock, it was overcast and murky as she hurried along the wet pavement. Reaching her destination, she paused with unexpected misgiving. The house seemed to loom darkly over her. She shivered and hurried up to the front door. At first no one answered. Just as she was about to turn away, she heard footsteps and the door swung open.

A
tall, willowy man stared coldly at her as she introduced herself.

‘I’ve already spoken to your people.’

There was something forbidding in his voice, but Sam was used to encountering all sorts of reactions from the public when she went calling. Reminding herself he might have useful information about Piers’ past, she adopted a conciliatory tone.

‘I know, and we’re very grateful for your co-operation, Mr Cooper. I’m really sorry to trouble you again, but I’m here to ask you a few questions about your former brother-in-law, if that’s all right with you.’

He was alert now, leaning forward, his black eyes alive with interest. A faint smile curled the corners of his thin lips.

‘You’re investigating Piers Trevelyan? Well, come in, come in.’

H
e stepped to one side so she could enter. Gratefully she went in.

‘It’s cold out there,’ he said, with a nod towards the street.

‘Freezing,’ she agreed, rubbing her hands together as she followed him past an internal door and up a narrow carpeted staircase.

They sat down in a sparsely furnished dining room. Darius faced her across the table, leaning on his elbows and watching her as she took out her notebook. There was an air of expectation about his demeanour that would have been surprising, considering he claimed not to have seen his former brother-in-law for over fifteen years, but she understood he was keen to discover who had murdered his nephew. Nevertheless, the intensity of his gaze unnerved her as she fumbled with her pen; her notebook slipped from her lap and fell to the floor with a muffled slap. Retrieving it, she mumbled an apology for keeping him waiting. He nodded with more than a hint of impatience.

‘What do you want to know? I’ll help you if I can.’

S
he began by offering him an open invitation to share his recollections of his former brother-in-law. To her relief he needed little prompting to talk about Piers, allowing her to focus on listening while discreetly jotting down notes. Initially reserved in his comments, he grew increasingly animated as he warmed to his topic, while his face contorted with misery.

‘He was a vicious brute. It was positively criminal, the way he treated my sister. A decent person wouldn’t treat a dog the way he treated her. Men like that shouldn’t be allowed to marry. Believe me, you’d never guess what he was like from meeting him. All of you detectives, with all your insights, probably had him down as civilised. Certainly he gives that impression. That’s how he wormed his way into my poor sister’s affections. But once they were married, he showed his true colours.’

He heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Recovering, he continued his recitation.

‘He was constantly running after other women – young girls, some of them. He used to bring them into the house while she was there, even when she was pregnant with his son. Can you believe that?’

S
am sympathised with the sad-eyed man facing her across the table who had been so attached to his sister. He had surely been devastated when she died.

‘Your sister must have been very unhappy,’ she said gently. ‘But it must have helped her to know you cared about her. And her son would have been a comfort to her.’

He nodded without answering, too overcome with emotion to speak for a moment. Sam waited.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘My sister was a beautiful woman, an angel. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.’

Sam pressed him to explain what he meant by that.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He shook his head, and heaved another sigh. ‘There was an inquest. But –’

Sam sat forward intrigued.

‘An inquest into what?’

D
arius looked surprised.

‘I’m talking about Ella’s death.’

‘Go on,’ she urged, wondering where this was going.

His voice rose in agitation. ‘The fools said otherwise, but I know what happened.’

‘Wasn’t it an accident? I thought she drowned in the bath.’

‘How many people drown in the bath?’

She pressed him to tell her how he knew, but he became increasingly hysterical and less and less coherent.

‘He’s evil. She was an angel, and he destroyed her. He took all the joy out of her life, and he destroyed her with his own hands.’

‘Are you saying you think he
killed
your sister?’

Hearing disbelief in her voice, he sprang from his chair. ‘You’re like all the rest of them. I’ll show you!’ he cried.

Assuming he was leaving the room to fetch some photographs of his sister, Sam bent her head and began adding to her notes while he disappeared from view behind her.

A
powerful arm pressed against her throat. Hard as metal, it constricted her breathing until she could no longer gasp for air. It was too late to fight against her assailant. Her arms flailed helplessly in the air, straining to make contact with any part of him. Vainly she tried to grab hold of him and scratch his skin while she still had any strength left. Her last thought before she hit the floor was that he had never even been a suspect.

G
ERALDINE
STRUGGLED
AGAINST
A
feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm her ability to think clearly. She knew she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Sam as a consequence of her instructions. She reminded herself there was no proof that Darius had killed anyone. Summoning back up might turn out to be an embarrassing overreaction. But if her instinct was right then she had sent Sam to the killer’s home, alone, and oblivious to the danger she might face when she arrived. Assuming Piers’ account was trustworthy, Darius had been excessively attached to his sister. In her ignorance, Sam might follow Geraldine’s instructions and enquire about Ella. As a rule the sergeant was able to take care of herself. Supple and strong, she was an expert in martial arts. But as far as she was aware, Darius wasn’t even a suspect. He just happened to have known Piers in the past, so was in a position to offer helpful information. Sam might press him to talk about his sister’s marriage, without suspecting her questions could provoke a violent reaction. Even someone skilled in self defence was at risk when an attack was unexpected.

H
er mobile in her hand, Geraldine was on the point of contacting the station when her phone rang. Expecting to hear it was Sam returning her call, she was startled to recognise Nick’s voice on the line.

‘How’s it all going?’ he asked easily. ‘Look, I just wanted to explain why I was a bit short with you earlier –’

‘What?’

‘This morning, when you wanted to have a chat –’

Geraldine interrupted him impatiently.

‘Nick, I’ve got a bit of a situation here.’

She bit her lip, hearing her voice wobble. She had faced death several times in the course of her career, and not once had she faltered or given way to panic. After all, she was trained to maintain her composure under pressure. But this was different. In despatching Sam to question Darius, Geraldine had quite possibly sent the sergeant to her death.

‘W
hat’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?’ Nick asked.

Reaching a decision, Geraldine spoke rapidly. ‘Sam Haley’s gone to question a possible witness, Darius Cooper. I think he’s our killer.’

She hoped desperately that she was wrong.

‘What?’

‘Don’t talk, just listen. Meet me outside Cooper’s flat in Frognal as soon as you can, and arrange for urgent back up. Tell them to wait nearby. No one’s to do anything until I get there. He could be dangerous.’

She hung up without waiting for a reply.

T
here were no missed calls on her phone, which remained obstinately silent. If Sam was fine, she was certainly keeping quiet. The one hope was that there was no signal in Darius’ flat. Geraldine imagined the conversation in Reg’s office if that turned out to be the case.

‘You summoned back up, and took another inspector off his case, because a possible witness from years ago had no phone signal in his flat?’

All the same, he would approve her decision. He might grumble about wasteful deployment of limited resources, but he would understand that she had no choice, faced with a potential threat to the safety of a fellow officer.

T
he traffic moved painfully slowly up Highgate Hill. Past The Gatehouse pub on the corner, Geraldine put her foot down and sped west along Hampstead Lane, north to Arkwright Road where she turned left into Frognal. Several police cars were already waiting. Although he had travelled further, Nick arrived only a moment after Geraldine drew up.

‘I’ll go in first,’ she said. ‘He’s seen me with Sam and might not realise anything’s going on if I show up.’

‘Is that sensible, given that you think he’s dangerous?’

‘It’s better to have two of us in there when we make the arrest.’

‘Why don’t I go in? Surely this is a job for a man. You said yourself he could be dangerous –’

Geraldine was glad Sam wasn’t there to witness his blatant sexism, but there was no time to protest.

‘He’s not going to murder police officers in his flat, is he? The danger is that he might get away. He’s a dab hand at that. Get uniform in position front and back. Surround the place. Remember, he can vanish through a crack in the wall.’

N
ick winced as his inflamed eye hurt when he frowned.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing? It doesn’t sound very safe and, if you don’t mind my saying, you sound a bit emotional.’

‘Can you think of a better plan?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m fine. I’m just going in there to arrest him. He’s not going to kick off with two of us in there, is he? We’ve only got back up here because he’s such a slippery customer. He’s extricated himself from tighter spots than this. Watch all the exits – including upstairs windows, and the roof. You’ll need to check for fire escapes and be ready to alert the neighbours. He might try to get out of the building at any point, however unlikely. He’s like spider man.’

‘Let’s not allow our imaginations to run away with us. Now, there’s one piece of advice you really ought to listen to before you go haring off. The main drawback to allowing two women in there unaccompanied –’

G
eraldine had no time to listen to any more of his advice. Nick might be under the impression that he was the superior officer present by virtue of his gender and experience, but this was her call to make. It was her investigation. Her sergeant was inside the flat with Darius. The longer they waited, the more chance there was that Sam would say something to provoke him.

‘Get uniform in place now. I’m going in.’

K
EEPING
HER
EXPRESSION
IMPASSIVE,
Geraldine rang the bell. She had been here before, but on her first visit had paid no attention to the property. Now she registered the old-fashioned sash windows which would be relatively easy to climb through. A drainpipe ran down the length of the house right beside one of the first floor windows. Apart from the internal stairs, there was likely to be either a permanent metal fire escape out of sight at the back of the property, or a ladder of some sort that could be lowered in case of fire. Moreover, an athletic man could slip out through a skylight in the roof and effect an escape that way. All this passed through her mind as she stood on the step, waiting for Darius to open the door. She hoped Nick would give the uniformed officers sufficiently detailed instructions to prevent anyone leaving the property undetected.

A
fter a few minutes, she rang the bell again. This time Darius opened the door. He smiled easily at her.

‘Inspector. What a surprise, seeing you again. How can I help you?’