Kith and Kill (27 page)

‘Reason to push it? What do you mean? Isn't the fact that I'm your brother and I want a new motor reason enough to push it?’

Rafferty put his head on the side and raised his eyebrows.

After a pause of several seconds, Patrick Sean said, ‘Oh I get it. I'm to switch to the dating agency choice for ma's present, is that it?’ Rafferty inclined his head in a nod. ‘I might have known there'd be a catch. I thought you were meant to be an honest copper.’

‘A bit of familial bribery and corruption's different to an out and out steal like you'd be buying with that jewellery.’

After several moments when he weighed the two options in the balance, he fell Rafferty's way. ’Go on, then. Get it sorted.’

Happy that he'd finally got ma a legal present organized, Rafferty left Patrick Sean and went home. He just hoped his brother never found out that the one careful lady owner was the used car dealership on Station Road and that Mary Carmody had never had a car for sale at all. He also hoped that Abra never found out that he was providing the extra couple of grand to the money his brother had available to buy a car. But a desperate situation called for desperate measures. And he'd heard a whisper that Fred Grimes, Patrick Sean's oft-times man in the pub, was under surveillance by a neighbouring force. And Rafferty didn't want Patrick Sean getting caught in the snare and leading his own work colleagues back to him.

Okay, he didn't have the money to pay for a car, but he'd get an extension to his credit card limit. As long as Abra never found out about it he'd be home and dry.

In
his few leisured hours in the evenings, Rafferty was on the phone to his sister Katy, trying to persuade her back to the dating agency fold. This was a just in case measure – the case being the possibility that either of his other two sisters should also change their mind and they ended up with a majority for the jewellery option in spite of all his hard bribing. Just considering all the possibilities was wearing Rafferty out, especially as another possibility was that Patrick Sean might take his car bribe and still do the deal with Grimes if he thought he'd get away with it. Katy was wavering again and Rafferty thought she was his best bet to be sure of the vote for the gift of the dating agency for his ma. Mickey was firmly set on buying ma jewellery and had proved intractable. Even though Rafferty thought he'd got Patrick Sean's cooperation it was entirely possible – if the jewellery option turned out to be the final decision – that he would co-opt one of the others to say they'd bought it.

In pursuit of getting his own, career-saving, way, Rafferty invited his sister out for lunch on Saturday and took her to the swanky Elmhurst Hotel. Abra was a bit put out at being excluded, but, as he told her, they couldn't afford to feed two there, never mind three. He promised he'd make it up to her. But still he'd left her in a sulk. He hoped she'd have got herself out of her mood by the time he got home.

But he pretty soon realized his error in thinking Katy was an easy touch and that she would appreciate some posh nosh when, no sooner had they been seated at their window table, than she began bemoaning the fact that her husband couldn't afford to give her such a treat.

‘God knows when Darren will manage to get another job,’ she told Rafferty. ‘He's been trying so hard. He's a good brickie, but the building industry is going through such a slump at the moment with first-time buyers so thin on the ground that there's little building going on.’

‘I know. It must be difficult for you. Would he consider re-training?’

Katy gulped down her red wine and shook her head. ‘No. Not Dazza. He's adamant about that. He likes to be outside. He couldn't stand being stuck in an office. And he refuses to do factory work; battery people, he calls such workers. He gets the odd bit of work on the black, but nothing remotely full time. Money's bloody tight and now Christmas is coming and I don't know how we're going to be able to afford it. Then there's ma's present. It's not that I begrudge her, it's just that it's another expense we can't really afford.’

‘That's what I wanted to speak to you about, Sis. I know you'd opted for the jewellery, but I really think you might find the dating agency a cheaper bet.’

‘You do? Why?’ Katy finished her wine and began toying with her glass. Rafferty signalled the waiter and pointed to his sister's glass for a refill.

‘Ma's not a fool. She's learned by now the sort of man she prefers. One as little like our old man as possible, will be one stipulation. She'll go through their suggested partners like a dose of salts, dismissing left and right, till she finds the right one.’

‘I wouldn't bet on it. Ma might well decide she wants to play the field. Especially as her generation of men are likely to insist on paying. I can see ma choosing to have a whale of a time with dinners and lunches out. Christ, it could go on forever and cost a bloody fortune.’ Katy emptied the second glass.

Rafferty signalled the waiter again. ‘Ma's not that selfish. She'd want to pay her way. And she wouldn't want to put us lot in hock to pay for it all ad infinitum.’ Rafferty took a quick sip of his wine, pulled a face, and wished it was an Adnams’ bitter. ‘Anyway, what I wanted to say was that I'd be prepared to subsidise you. Call it an extended loan, only to be repaid when Darren gets a proper job.’

‘I couldn't. Dazza wouldn't agree. He's got his pride.’

‘Who says we have to tell him? I won't if you won't. Just tell him you've gone with the jewellery option and have got cash from your credit card. Who's to say he'll ever be any the wiser? I won't tell him and I can prompt the others to keep their mouths shut. I don't suppose he's ever likely to take that much interest in Ma's present once it's bought anyway. So he's not likely to demand a search through ma's jewellery box for this non-existent jewellery. Besides, it seems he's got more on his mind than what we're getting ma for this double celebration.’

Their meals arrived then and they left the topic of ma's present to one side while they addressed the beautifully presented food. And, by the end of the meal with its fine, waiter-poured, wines and the luxurious Edwardian ambience of The Elmhurst Hotel surrounding them, he had persuaded Katy to his point of view. All in all, a good few hours’ work. And Rafferty congratulated himself on his investment as he rode back to the station in the taxi.

When Rafferty
returned to the station after his lunch with Katy, it was to find Timothy Smales back from Newcastle and bursting to share his news. He was waiting in Rafferty's office in the detective style suit and tie he had worn to interview Nosy Nora and although the natty suit gave the impression of maturity, his boyish face was unable to conceal its pink excitement and glowed like a child's nightlight. As soon as he saw Rafferty, he burst out:

‘Sir! Sir! You'll never believe what I've found out.’

‘All right, Tim. Calm down and tell me.’

‘Adam Chambers’ boyfriend
did
sneak into the Egerton house on the night of the murder. Nosy Nora – I mean Mrs Palmer-Watkins, saw him. Around eleven-thirty it was, she told me.’

‘And Nosy Nora was still sitting by the window watching the neighbours’ doings at that time of night?’ Rafferty was inclined to be sceptical. Perhaps Nosy Nora was another woman jealous of Sophia's good fortune in the looks and wealth stakes and was taking the opportunity to vent some spleen by making sure the nocturnal habits of Sophia's favourite grandson had an airing in the press to bring her down a peg from beyond the grave.

‘Yes, sir. She said it was a regular habit of hers. She told me she slept badly and was sitting in the dark in the living room waiting for her sleeping pill to take effect. She told me she couldn't afford to have lights blazing and rooms heated for half the night just because she was still awake. She's made a statement. I got her to write it all down on a proper form and sign it. I've got it here’ Smales flourished a spidery-penned missive in Rafferty's face.

Rafferty lost his last qualms. He turned to Llewellyn. ‘Looks like we've got a result. And we already know that Adam's boyfriend is far from being a model citizen, possibly the sort who would kill for the chance to marry into the wealthy Egerton family. Though maybe we'll only be able to get Adam Chambers for conspiracy to murder rather than murder.’ He turned back to Smales and rescued the statement. ‘Well done, lad. I can see I'll have to give you responsibility more often.’

A blush of pride rose up Smales's downy cheeks. ‘Thank you, sir. I won't let you down, sir.’

‘No. I'm sure you won't. It's a long journey from Newcastle – did you eat on the train?’

Smales shook his head.

‘Go and get some food and then you can get off home – I'll square it with Sergeant Jones.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Still beaming fit to burst, Timothy Smales left for the canteen.

Rafferty smiled, turned to Llewellyn and pointedly remarked, ‘Wish everyone was as easily pleased. Ring Mary Carmody and tell her to bring Will Harper in, will you, Dafyd? I think that young man could do a lot to help us with our inquiries.’

It
was three hours later when Mary Carmody arrived with William Harper. Harper looked to be a street-wise youth, skinny, but pretty in a wasted blond way, and with that leather-jacketed insolence about him. In short, he was the sort who tended to get up Rafferty's nose in very short order, so he deputed the interviewing to the calmer Llewellyn and kept his silence as well as he could.

Llewellyn began quietly. ‘You seem to have had a raw deal in life, Mr Harper. From a broken family, are you not?’

Harper stared uncertainly across the desk at him clearly put off his insolent stroke by this unexpected beginning; it was apparent that Harper wasn't used to receiving a sympathetic hearing in police interview rooms, which, given his history of soliciting and robbery and drugs offences, was entirely understandable. It seemed Harper was suspicious of this form of questioning because he opted for the truculent response. ‘What you playin’ at? Doing the soft cop/hard cop routine?’ He jerked his head towards Rafferty. ‘I suppose he's gonna start up in a minute with the nasty stuff.’ This was accompanied by a sneer which revealed small teeth that were just starting to show the evidence of a dissolute life. ‘Why don't you just charge me with whatever you've got and be done?’

‘And what if what we've got is murder?’

‘You what?’ Harper had lounged dismissively back in his chair, but this brought him forward with a jerk. ‘What you talkin’ about? I aint murdered nobody.’ His slack jaw worked overtime. ‘I aint done nothin’ and you can't prove I have.’

Llewellyn, ever logical, said, ‘If you “aint done nothing”, then you have surely done something – double negative makes a positive, do you see?’ When Harper frowned uncomprehendingly at this, he added, ‘Very well. What about the little matter of your presence in the home of Mrs Sophia Egerton on the night she was murdered?’

‘Who? Never ‘eard of ‘er.

‘You might know her better as Adam Chambers’ grandmother.’

‘What that old cow what was murdered? Adam told me about that.’ A wary look came into his eyes. ‘Bastard coppers. You aint fittin’ me up fer that.’

‘But you don't deny that you were in the house on that night?’

‘I bloody do. Tryin’ to soft-soap me, make me think you were a good guy when all the time you planned to throw this at me.’

‘You can deny all you wish Mr Harper, but you were seen entering the premises that night. What were you doing there?’

‘You know bloody well what I was doin’ there. You seem to know all about everything. All about everything but who murdered that old woman. And it wasn't me.’

‘But you have a history of law-breaking, Mr Harper,’ Llewellyn reminded him softly. ‘The Egerton and Chambers families are middle-class, respectable, hard-working, whereas you…’

‘Huh. They aint so fancy from what I hear. You wanna know what Adam told me about that lot. Right bunch of tossers they sound.’

‘And what about Adam Chambers?’

‘What about him?’

‘We learned on the grapevine that he's sweet on you. Wants to marry you. But Adam being Adam, he's sure to have wanted a big, showy affair. Only he couldn't afford it. Not unless his grandmother died. Did he mention this to you?’

‘No, he bleedin’ didn't. He never told me nothin’ about no money. I love him for himself alone.’

‘Oh come off it, Harper.’ Rafferty broke into the proceedings. He couldn't help himself. ‘Adam was just the latest patsy in a long line. Only, with him, you struck lucky, didn't you? He was a few notches up from your usual johns, wasn't he? Nicely spoken, stylishly dressed, money in his pocket – you wanted a piece of that, didn't you? And you wanted it to last a lot longer than your usual steady johns do.’

‘Well of course I bloody did. I'm not thick. Wouldn't you, if you were me?’

‘Did you and Adam plot this murder together? Or did you do it to oblige both him and yourself? I know you habitually carry a knife. Where is it?’

‘I aint got no knife. Bleedin’ search me if you don't believe me.’

Rafferty gestured to the uniformed constable standing by the door. He was a new face. Rafferty hadn't met him before. ‘Constable? If you'll do the honours.’

Harper submitted to the search with a smug look. No knife was found in his possession.