Kith and Kill (15 page)

“Did anyone apart from Mark go near the decanter – or his glass, for that matter?”

“Not the glass, definitely not. That was always in Mark’s hand even when he was reading the will. But we were milling around, talking to each other, while we waited for Jane to produce the will. We were all near the sideboard at one point or another.”

“Surely you would see if anyone tampered with the decanter?”

“Not necessarily. It was a bit crowded while we were all standing up, with all the chairs in the room, and each person arriving caused a distraction. Everybody had their back to somebody at some stage. I squeezed through to get to Ruth, as we’d arrived separately. I’m afraid I for one could have reached the decanter without anyone seeing.”

“At what point did you leave?”

“Pretty much as soon as Mark had read out the will. I gather there was a bit of bother over Matthew and whether he was included in the will but otherwise it was quite simple and straightforward. Everything to be divided equally. Not that I’m a lawyer but I do think they’re best kept out of things if you can.”

“Did you and Ruth leave together?” Amos asked quickly before the questioning could be sidetracked.

“No, we both had our cars. I was in the office early to get as much clear as possible in case the meeting dragged on and I got on better than I expected. It’s amazing how much work you get done when you have to. After the meeting at Mark’s I came back home and worked from here, which is why you caught me in. Ruth had to go back to school.”

At this point Ruth arrived home agitated and flustered. The presence of a police officer did nothing to lighten her mood.

“You’ll have to give me a minute, inspector,” she said. “It’s been a pig of a day. You don’t know the half of it.”

Then, to her husband, she said as she sank into an armchair: “Ken I know it’s early but I need a stiff drink. Can you get me a gin and tonic please.”

Amos waited patiently until she had the drink in her hand and had taken a couple of gulps before saying: “Mrs Denton, I appreciate this is distressing but I have to ask you about events this lunchtime.”

Ruth nodded and took another gulp, draining the glass, and sank back into the chair with a sigh.

“Another?” Ken asked.

Ruth shook her head.

“Later,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Your husband tells me that you arrived at your brother Mark’s house separately.”

“Yes, that’s right. I came from school and Ken had gone into the office early to get his work clear so he could attend the meeting. God knows why Mark had to call everyone together in the middle of the day and he was very insistent that as many as possible of us should be there.”

“What time did he ring you?”

“About half past ten last night. I was too tired to argue with him. I’d spent the evening marking six form essays. I only agreed because I knew I had a free period immediately after lunch so if it took longer than expected I could get away with arriving back at school a few minutes late.”

“Who was at Mark’s when you arrived?”

“Apart from Mark and Agnes? Just Esther, I think. George didn’t come with her. Then Luke and Beth arrived. I can’t remember who came when after that. No, that’s wrong. You came next, didn’t you, Ken?”

Her husband nodded assent.

“I think Jane and her friend may have beaten Luke and Beth but they were pretty close together and I was talking to Ken so I’m not entirely sure. Mary was definitely last to arrive. She came in complaining about the buses.

“It was a bit crowded with all the chairs in the way and we had to keep squashing up until we were all there and we sat down.”

“So your husband was just telling me. Did you see anyone near the decanter?”

“You think Mark was poisoned, like Matthew?” Ruth said incredulously. “It was a heart attack, surely. That’s what Agnes told me when I rang after school to see how Mark was.”

“Poisoning is a possibility,” Amos said quietly but firmly, “or, as you say, it could have been a heart attack. And even if he was poisoned, it wasn’t necessarily the whisky decanter. But Mark was the only one who consumed anything during the meeting and all he had, so I am told, was a glass of Scotch.”

“Well, two glasses, actually, because he poured one when I got there and he had another when Jane arrived, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there.”

“So who was near the decanter?”

“No-one and everyone. No-one was particularly hovering round the sideboard but anybody could have pushed past unnoticed. But really, inspector, there was only family there. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“You were still there when Mark collapsed, I understand,” Amos went on, ignoring Ruth’s last remark. “Weren’t you anxious to get back to school?”

“Not at that stage. Mark was asking me what I thought about Matthew’s death and whether I thought one of the family had killed him. Why on earth he would ask me I’ve no idea. He seemed to think that me being a teacher gave me an insight into human nature.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“As a matter of fact I was quite indignant. There was no way anyone in the family would have done such a dreadful thing and I told him so in no uncertain terms. Then he slumped to the floor. I felt pretty bad about it, I can tell you. I feared I had brought on his heart attack.”

“Who was still there at that stage?”

“Agnes, of course, but otherwise I think that there was only Mary left. She would probably have been out of the front door by then if she hadn’t been hanging back trying to hear what I was saying to Mark. She obviously didn’t want to miss anything.”

“Did you and Mary leave together?” Amos asked.

“No, I left as soon as we’d cleared up the glass. I had to get back to school and I suddenly realised time was marching on. I left in a rush and got back just in time to cover my tracks. As it is I shall have to work at home on the marking I should have done in my free period.

“I assume Mary stayed until Caroline got back. She has nothing else to do now.”

Amos decided not to pursue this discrepancy in the two accounts of who left last. It didn’t seem important but if it subsequently proved to be so he could take it up later. He knew, anyway, that both sisters had left the house empty before Caroline could get there.

He and Swift drove back to headquarters in a subdued mood.

“I frankly don’t see what else we can do tonight,” the inspector said. “I suggest we sleep on it.”

Swift was not inclined to contradict him.

“The trouble is,” she said, “we can’t be sure at this stage that they were both poisoned, and, if they were, that they got half the ketamine dose each. There are some inconsistencies in the stories but then there always are. People remember things differently, especially if they don’t realise at the time that they will be quizzed later.

“If anything the stories are more consistent than usual. We may have a very clever murderer who is able to tell pretty much the truth. That way there is less danger of them tripping themselves up.”

Cha
pte
r 28

The call to Detective Inspector Paul Amos came just before midnight, waking him with a start. He picked up the receiver at the bedside. Detective Constable Susan Smith was on the line.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, Sir, but I thought you ought to know. A man has been battered to death in an alley near the Stonebow. According to his driving licence, it’s Luke Wilson.”

There was a pause as Amos took a sharp intake of breath.

“Did I do right to ring you, Sir?” Smith asked anxiously.

“Yes, yes, of course you did,” Amos said, recovering from the shock.

“I’m on lates this week, Sir. I got called out when uniform found him. His driving licence was in his pocket but his wallet, if he had one, is missing.”

“Stay there, Susan,” Amos almost shouted. “I’ll be right with you. Who else is there?”

“Three uniform now and me so far. Sarah Westfield is on her way. We’ve roped the area off but there’s no-one around. We don’t know how long he’s been lying here. It’s quite dark so he wouldn’t be readily noticed.”

Amos had been dressing hastily, juggling the phone between hands as he shoved his arms into sleeves.

“I’m leaving now,” he said, still agitated. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

A fourth uniformed officer was on the scene when Amos arrived. So, too, was Sarah Westfield, pathologist Brian Slater’s assistant. She got the callouts, especially those at night. Slater was strictly a day worker and was quite willing to pull seniority.

The kneeling Westfield was bending over the body, examining the head carefully with the aid of a powerful torch. She spotted Amos and rose to her feet.

“It’s not just happened,” she said confidently. “He was killed a couple of hours ago but he doesn’t seem to have been moved. The blood has run from his head onto the pavement. If he’d been dragged here it would have left a trail.”

“It’s quite dark down this alleyway and it isn’t used much at night,” Amos agreed. “It’s not a dead end but it’s not a short cut to anywhere either. In the dark people could have passed under the Stonebow just 20 yards away and not spotted him.

“It is Luke Wilson, by the way. I recognise him. Has anyone been dispatched to tell his family?”

“Not yet Sir,” DC Smith replied. “I thought the priority was to alert you once I found his name in his driving licence, in view of the murder of his two brothers.”

“You did right, Susan. You said there was no wallet. Was there anything else in his pockets?”

“Car keys, house keys, some spare change, a few betting slips and a tissue. Oh, and a dozen of his own business cards tucked into his top pocket - but no-one else’s.”

“So it could be a mugging and they hit him a bit too hard,” Amos mused. “But it seems odd he should be down this passageway if he wasn’t dragged down it. Either he knew his attacker and came down willingly or there was more than one assailant and they crowded him in.

“The weapon, if we find it, will be in the Brayford. We’ll drag it in the morning. I doubt if anyone would want to be walking through Lincoln, even late at night, with a blunt instrument covered in blood.”

Two of the uniformed officers immediately volunteered to walk along the bank heading downstream. Although the Brayford was technically a canal in this stretch, it carried a flow of water out from Brayford Pool, draining eastward towards the coast. It passed under the pedestrianized section of the High Street just 100 yards or so downhill from the Stonebow archway.

Westfield had finished her preliminary examination of the body and Amos agreed that it could be taken back to the mortuary. He borrowed her torch to inspect the alleyway. There was no sign of any weapon or of any scuffle.

“Keep the alleyway roped off,” he instructed, “and we’ll take a closer look round in daylight. I’m going to break the news to his wife.”

Chapter 29

Luke Wilson’s house was in darkness. It took several rings on the doorbell and a few loud knocks on the door before a female voice inside called out nervously: “Who’s there?”

It made Amos jump. No light had been switched on anywhere in the house and he was beginning to think he would have to abandon the visit until the morning.

The inspector identified himself. Even then there were a few seconds of hesitation before a light came on in the hall, two bolts were pulled back and the door was opened a few inches, just as far as the thick chain on it allowed.

The face of Luke Wilson’s wife Beth peered out anxiously, then showed relief as she recognised Amos in the sliver of light shining out from the hall. The door closed a little to allow enough slack for the chain to be released, then it was opened wide and Amos was invited in. Beth looked quickly up and down the road before closing the door quietly and relocking and bolting it.

“What are you worried about, Mrs Wilson?” Amos asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Beth replied distractedly. “Let’s go through to the kitchen,” she added, leading the way down the hall. She seated Amos at the kitchen table, went back to switch the hall light off and closed the kitchen door as she returned. Amos reckoned that no light would be visible from the front of the house.

“I’m afraid it’s more bad news, Mrs Wilson,” Amos said as soon as she sat down.

“Is it Luke?” she asked nervously. “He hasn’t come home.”

“Yes.”

“Like the other brothers?”

“No. This time it’s different. I’m afraid your husband was ferociously attacked with an iron bar or something similar. I doubt if he knew anything about it, if that’s any small consolation. It looks as if he was struck from behind with a single blow. He must have died instantly.”

Beth Wilson gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She glanced quickly at the kitchen door, still firmly closed, then at the blackness outside the kitchen window. She rose to her feet and pulled down the blind. Then she slumped back into her seat and fell silent but tearless.

“Are you going to be all right?” Amos asked. “Is there someone you could stay with for tonight at least? One of your sisters-in-law, perhaps?”

Beth Wilson merely shook her head.

“If you’re worried I can get a police officer to stay on guard tonight,” Amos suggested.

“Stop pestering,” Beth suddenly burst out. “I’ll be all right, I tell you. I’ve got Enid.”

“You were obviously worried about opening the door, Mrs Wilson. Has someone threatened you or Luke?”

“No, no. I just worry when Luke’s out late. He was attacked once before.”

“Over gambling debts, I take it?”

Beth looked shocked that Amos knew.

“It was a one-off,” she replied hastily. “He borrowed some cash from his Dad and paid them off. He promised it would never happen again.”

“But you’re not sure,” Amos persisted.

“He wouldn’t break his word,” Beth said sharply.

Amos decided to let that rest for now.

“When did you last see your husband, Mrs Wilson?”

“At lunchtime. Mark had called a meeting of all the family, including spouses, to read their Dad’s will. It’s the last thing he’ll ever do for us. Poor Mark.”