Kith and Kill (6 page)

“Now my loyalty to my family is repaid with my career being ruined. As soon as they hear about it at the vet’s I’ll be fired and all that training will have gone to waste.”

“I’ll allow you to tell them yourself,” Amos said generously. “As long as you do it today. I suggest you don’t tell anybody else, which I think you’ll agree is in your interests. You hardly want this spreading around. Which garage do you use?”

Esther supplied the details with some reluctance, arguing that if Amos went blundering in it would damage her reputation. Amos felt that she had already inflicted enough damage herself. He needed to check that she really had ordered a replacement key.

“How much ketamine?” Amos asked almost as an afterthought. “Enough to kill one person, obviously, but enough for two? Three? More?”

Esther was startled.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” she said. “There was probably enough to kill three people, certainly two, I’m afraid. It depends if you knew what dosage to give.”

Swift emitted a low whistle.

As they left, Swift said to Amos: “Why aren’t we arresting her? She’s lied and hidden evidence from us. She looks guilty as hell.

“And despite what she says about issuing the invoices herself, Vickie Johnson at the vets was probably complicit in the cover-up. She’s the one who keeps the books.”

“Where’s the motive?” Amos asked.

“At least we ought to search her house. She could have the rest of the ketamine stashed away somewhere. If she knew there was enough to kill two or three people she wouldn’t have used it all on Matthew. She’d have some left and it has to be somewhere.

“I don’t like to say it but you’re letting your dislike of ripping people’s homes apart sway you.”

“Think about it,” Amos said. “If she knew how much she needed to kill Matthew, why would she take more? It would have been easier to take just enough and cover up the smaller amount in one prescription. If she planned to kill anyone else she would have waited to see if she got away with one murder before taking the means of moving on to the next.

“In any case, if she does have any more ketamine she will keep it in her vet’s bag where it will look legitimately like part of her medical supplies.

“There is no ketamine in her house. Let’s give her a bit of rope and see if she hangs herself.”

Chapter 12

“We still have Luke to see and I’d like to talk to Agnes, Mark’s wife. She seems to have actually spoken to this mystery woman who was hanging round the door,” Amos said to Swift as they got into the car.

“The woman was probably just curious but we obviously need to eliminate her from the inquiries if so.

“Luke presumably will be at work and I’m afraid I didn’t have time last night to ascertain details of where all the siblings work. Let’s try our luck with Agnes first. At least she can clear up the business of the mystery woman and she will presumably know where Luke works. I don’t want to go round to Luke’s house unless we have to, so we leave Susan a free hand with the younger generation.”

Luck was running for Amos as far as finding female members of the family at home. Agnes opened the door and after the two detectives had produced their identification she bustled them into the house that Amos had already visited the previous evening.

“I’m afraid Mark is at work, if you can call it that,” Agnes said brusquely.

“That’s fine, Mrs Wilson,” Amos said politely. “We saw your husband last night. It’s you we wanted to talk to.”

Agnes looked startled.

“You saw Mark last night?” she asked in a surprised tone. “When I was down at the hospital with Jane, I presume.”

“Mark said that’s where you were,” Amos said smoothly. “He didn’t mention he’d been interviewed, then? Surely you asked him when you got back. Jane must have told you the police were involved.”

“Mark was fast asleep by the time I got home. It was late. I had a lot of sorting out to do at the hospital. Everyone was falling apart. If I’m not there nothing gets done.”

“I’m surprised Mark didn’t go down to the hospital with you for support,” Swift cut in. “He was Matthew’s brother after all.”

“Mark? Support?” Agnes snorted. “He’s a man. He would have been useless.”

Swift looked away. She was embarrassed, not at the retort but because she knew what it was like to have a useless man. Her boyfriend Jason was out of work and had, on several occasions, been at police headquarters in tears, as Amos was only too well aware.

Not realising that she had struck a sore point, however, Agnes went on: “Mark can never organise anything. None of his family can. And they all resent me because I can.”

“Did you organise the funeral?” Swift asked.

“No, more’s the pity. Nothing to do with me. The whole thing was a shambles. God knows why Matthew wanted to hold the wake in that ghastly pub. I told him so at the time.”

“So you were talking to Matthew at the wake?” Swift went on. Usually she let Amos do the questioning. That was the way he preferred it and she usually deferred to his seniority but the detective sergeant was anxious to catch up, having missed the previous day’s events.

“Yes I was. Not that he wanted to listen. I didn’t expect him to. I don’t know why I bother.”

“Was he drinking much?”

“I don’t think so. Anyway, why are you asking all these questions?” Agnes was betting quite hostile now. “Matthew’s died before his time. It happens. Get over it.”

“We have to ask questions,” Swift said promptly and firmly. “It’s our job. This is an unexplained death and we have to consider that it was brought on by something he consumed. Please answer the question. Was he drinking much?”

“Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job,” Agnes said without a hint of irony, “but you should check the kitchens at that ghastly pub. The food was awful. I didn’t touch any of it. I saw Matthew eat a sausage roll. It looked disgusting.”

“Drinking,” Swift persisted. “How much?”

“He had a pint in his hand but he put it down on a table while I was telling him what for. Then he made some feeble excuse about having to talk to everyone, what with him being head of the family now, and wandered off leaving his drink behind.

“He came back for it later, once he’d seen me move away. As far as I know he had one pint and that was it.”

“Did he seem all right when you were talking to him?”

“Yes he was fine. Anyway, I had to go and deal with some woman who was hovering round the door. No-one else seemed to bother, as usual. I had to go and deal with it.”

“Ah yes, the woman at the door,” Amos recovered control of the questioning. “What did she want?”

“Free feed, I should think. She was quite some way in when I spotted her. I didn’t ask what she wanted, I just ushered her out. Some people can’t help themselves, they just have to stick their noses in,” Agnes continued, again without any indication of irony.

“Did she go anywhere near Matthew’s drink?”

Agnes gave Amos a contemptuous look as if this was a daft question.

“Not after I got to her, she didn’t. I don’t know how long she’d been in but not long I shouldn’t think. You’re surely not pursuing this idea that someone poisoned Matthew. Jane told me that’s what you were making out happened.

“She was really upset about it. I should think he drank too much like his brothers. And worried too much. He’s driven himself into an early grave.”

“You don’t seem to have much sympathy for your brother-in-law,” Swift commented.

“Sympathy’s a bit of a waste of time when you’re dead,” Agnes said abruptly. “I’ll save my sympathy for the living. It’s poor Jane who needs sympathy and she will get plenty of that from me. And support.”

“Can you describe the woman?” Amos asked. “And yes, we are considering the possibility that Matthew was poisoned. We’re keeping all options open at this early stage but it does look as if he was poisoned.”

Agnes looked unconvinced. However, she gave the impression of summoning up a massive mental effort to remember a woman who was really not worthy of consideration.

“I really didn’t take much notice,” she said. “I really didn’t expect to be questioned about her 24 hours later. She was quite ordinary.”

“Age, height, size?”

“I don’t really remember. She was about 40 something as far as I can tell, medium height, bit plump.”

“Hair colour?”

“Brown, I think. A bit mousy. I really can’t remember. It hardly seemed important at the time. The main thing was to get rid of her.”

Amos thanked her for her time. Before he left somewhat dispirited with Swift in tow, he asked Agnes where Luke worked and which school Ruth taught at.

He didn’t know who the intruding woman was and even if he found out there was little to suggest that she was the murderer. It was almost certainly a family affair.

Chapter 13

Luke Wilson was a partner in a firm of chartered accountants. Amos and Swift were soon ushered into his office, although they arrived unannounced. Having detectives sitting in the waiting room is bad for any business that depends on public trust.

The third son of the late Joseph Wilson was quite expansive, ushering them in past the door bearing his name on a brass plaque, pulling up two comfortable seats and offering tea or coffee. Amos rarely accepted even non-alcoholic beverages from suspects, not because he feared being poisoned but because he did not want to be in the debt, however tiny, of anyone he was interviewing, especially in a murder case.

Amos selected coffee graciously. He wanted Luke to feel entirely at ease in the hope that, having had time to get his story together, he might let something slip if he was not on guard. Swift followed Amos’s lead and accepted the offer of coffee.

While Luke excused himself to drum up the brew, Amos took the opportunity afforded by his absence to look over the desk top. It was disappointingly devoid of any paperwork.

Soon Luke was back, all bustle and efficiency, declaring that Miss Sampson had volunteered to brew proper coffee rather than insult their distinguished guests with insipid rubbish out of the coffee machine.

As he sat down, he said expansively: “I’m very sorry, inspector, that I was not at home to answer your questions last night but unfortunately I had to meet a client and things had been rather put back by the time lost at the funeral. It was not a serious matter but time was of the essence.”

Amos looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I believe my wife told you I was at the bookmakers. It is a small business client of ours. I’d be obliged if that was between us, inspector, client confidentiality and all that.”

Amos nodded and silently resolved to check with the bookies.

“How did your brother Matthew seem to you at the funeral?” he asked.

Luke shrugged his shoulders.

“He seemed all right to me,” he said noncommittally. “A bit pompous as usual. Dear old Matthew, he was a bit of a cold fish but good hearted.”

“What was he drinking – and did you see him eat anything?” Amos asked.

“Well. I know he had a pint,” Luke replied immediately. “Matthew led the way from the cemetery in his car. He had to be first, of course, what with being head of the family now as he mentioned more than once. In any case, no-one else knew where the pub was so we had to follow in a convoy, which was a bit tricky with five cars.

“Matthew hadn’t thought that one through when he decided to save money on the funeral cortege. Agnes was busy organising Mark as we were leaving the cemetery so I nipped through to keep up with Matthew.”

Luke chuckled and shook his head.

“It was quite funny really. Instead of getting Mark moving so he would be there right behind Matthew, Agnes delayed him so much that he was last in the line. She wasn’t best pleased at this demotion and was still giving Mark an earful when they arrived.”

“So you were first into the pub with Matthew, I take it,” Amos prompted.

“Yes. We went to the bar together and got a pint each. That was all I had but I think Matthew had quite a bit more.”

“Were you talking to Matthew long at the bar?”

“I suppose Agnes has told you,” Luke guessed erroneously. “And I suppose she’s told you what we were discussing. She was keen enough to find out when she eventually arrived.”

“Perhaps you could just confirm it,” Swift prompted gently.

“We were discussing Dad’s will as you perfectly well know. Matthew wouldn’t tell us what was in it.”

Luke stopped and looked at the two detectives, trying to gauge how much Agnes had in fact told them. It was beginning to dawn on him that they knew less than he had thought but he realised he had better not break off too abruptly.

“I was just trying to find out what it said, that’s all. So was Agnes, by the way,” he added with a coy smile.

“And did he tell you?” Amos asked.

“No. Not to worry. It’s no big deal. Dad didn’t have much to leave anyway.”

“You know the state of his finances, then?”

“You don’t catch me out like that. He was never paid much and he brought up six kids. Work it out for yourself.”

“We’re not trying to catch you out, Mr Wilson,” Amos said soothingly. “We’re simply trying to find out what caused your brother to die suddenly and unexpectedly, as I’m sure you would expect us to do.”

Luke Wilson looked at the inspector dubiously.

“Did you stay at the bar with your brother? Did you actually see how much he had to drink or what he ate?”

“I can’t help you much there,” Luke said, regaining some of his cockiness. “I left Matthew to Agnes’s tender mercies – once I was sure he wasn’t going to tell her any more than he told me. Served him right. So no, I don’t know how much he drank. He’d knocked back about half his pint when I wandered off but after that I’ve no idea, and I don’t know what if anything he ate.

“In fact, Beth and I didn’t hang around long. We didn’t like the pub, we didn’t like the food and we’re not ones for mawkish sentiment. As soon as was decently respectable, we slipped out. I was anxious to get to my important business meeting – at the bookmakers.”