The Best of British Crime omnibus (50 page)

‘Sorry to disturb you, Mrs Treasure,' said the policeman.

‘Not at all. Nice surprise,' Molly smiled. ‘You look as if you might be thirsty. Sit down and join the drinking.'

‘Thank you. A tonic water would be fine. Very kind.'

‘Ice, Inspector?' asked Treasure from the trolley.

‘Yes, thanks very much.' Furlong sat on the sofa close to Molly's chair – carefully, on the edge, and without leaning back to disturb the cushions. ‘I'll try not to keep you too long.' His whole trunk had gone through a sharp forward and backward movement on the last words.

‘So there's been a development over Hackle's death?' The banker put the glass and a dish of nuts on a table beside the other man.

‘Several developments, as a matter of fact, sir. Mr Hackle died of drug poisoning. From ingesting a minute quantity of a veterinary anaesthetic made by Closter. It's called … er— ' Furlong, was pulling out a notebook.

‘Bovetormaz, I suppose,' Treasure supplied unexpectedly spreading out the syllables. ‘Poor chap. How simply awful. It's an injection. Used on farms and in zoos. For operations on large animals. It's lethal in humans. Even in the smallest quantity. I've never really understood how anything so dangerous is allowed at all.'

‘Normally it's only used by vets, sir.'

‘I know. Always with an antidote handy. And someone else to inject it, in case of accident. You still wouldn't catch me near any of it.' He moved back to his chair. ‘Closter make the antidote too.'

‘The cause of death wasn't clear till the post mortem. The indications were exactly like a cardiac arrest.'

‘He was injected with the stuff?'

‘No, sir. Scratched with something. Probably a hypodermic needle, with enough of the drug on it to kill him. But it wasn't a proper injection.'

‘The scratch on the back of his neck that the doctor noticed?'

‘That was it, Mrs Treasure.' Furlong rapidly pushed a hand through his curly fair hair. Then he did it again.

‘Could he have done it himself?' Treasure asked.

‘Not likely. Not in view of the position for a start. And we haven't found the needle. If he'd done it himself, accidentally or otherwise, the needle or whatever he'd used would have been near the body, or in the room at least.'

‘Did he die immediately?'

‘About thirty seconds after the scratch. Oh, and the time of death is estimated as between six forty and seven twenty.'

‘So now you're treating it as— '

‘Suspected murder, I'm afraid, sir. I rang you at your office earlier this evening but you'd just left. Mr Closter-Bennet wasn't in either.'

‘Could Dermot have got hold of some Bova-whatever-it-is?' asked Molly.

‘Yes, I suppose. Not that easily, though,' her husband replied. ‘Closter directors must have access to the company products. For legitimate reasons. But I don't believe this stuff would be issued without stringent precautions.'

‘The high-ups in most companies usually know how to get round regulations of that kind, sir. And it's not necessarily Mr Hackle who did the purloining in this instance, of course.'

Treasure debated for a moment. ‘Unless he had some in a sample case. He was on a marketing trip after all. What if he'd had it hidden? Was about to use it on his captors and … and the strategy went wrong?'

‘We've thought of that, sir. Bit fanciful. There was no sample case. No sign of a struggle— '

‘The SAE of course,' Molly interrupted suddenly. ‘Whether or not it exists as a proper group, wouldn't anyone involved in animal rights be involved with vets too? Might even be a vet?'

‘That's possible, Mrs Treasure. Except' – he paused – ‘the other important thing I have to tell you is Helga Greet regained consciousness at noon today. She was normal enough to be interviewed after the first hour. I've spoken twice to the Swiss police officer who's liaising with us. When they told her about Mr Hackle's death, Miss Greet confessed to a lot of things.'

‘To the murder?' demanded Treasure.

‘No. The opposite. She's scared stiff. Says the SAE was a stage army. Recruited by her for a demonstration in London, at the direction of Mr Hackle. Part of a plan he cooked up. He also leaked information to the
Evening Standard
ahead of a news conference.'

‘We wondered who'd done that,' said Treasure.

‘She says it was to make the demo there more credible. If that makes sense, sir?'

‘It does, yes.'

‘Anyway, she insists there was no real kidnap. That was also staged by Mr Hackle. The Irishman on the telephone was him all the time. Seems he was good at imitating accents.'

‘Very good,' put in Molly.

‘Hackle and Greet were setting up the situation that would get Closter Drug on the cheap for Krontag. Mr Hackle stood to benefit to the tune of a million pounds if it worked. On a sort of commission paid by her company, Lybred and Greet. She swears the Krontag people weren't party to the plot.'

‘Astute of her to swear to that,' said Treasure. ‘If it were suggested they were party to it, there'd be criminal proceedings against them in Switzerland involving her as well as them. As it is, any court action looks like being in England. Extraditing her to this country might present difficulties.'

‘Surely you can extradite easily for murder?' Molly questioned.

‘Extradition's never easy, Mrs Treasure.' Furlong spoke feelingly, as though he had tried it and failed.

‘And do you believe Miss Greet's story, Inspector?' asked Treasure.

The policeman rocked forwards and backwards making a pained face. ‘Too pat, you mean, sir? Too easy to invent now Mr Hackle's dead? We hadn't bought it. Except' – he hesitated, glanced at Molly, then cleared his throat – ‘we have other reasons for believing Mr Hackle wasn't exactly a prisoner.' He cleared his throat again. ‘The pathologist's report says he'd had sexual intercourse with a woman shortly before he died.'

‘That won't surprise too many people,' said Molly promptly, before an awkward silence could develop.

‘I see,' said Furlong, though his expression suggested he might not have done. ‘Has Mr Larden been in touch with you in the last hour, sir?'

‘No. He was with me till around four. At a meeting at the Stock Exchange. He was called away from that.'

‘I think it was his wife who called him. Two woman detectives interviewed Mrs Larden at her home around three thirty. She'd been in bed all day. Poorly. We needed to ask her to confirm or deny another part of Miss Greet's sworn testimony.'

‘Involving Mr or Mrs Larden?'

‘Mrs Larden, sir. Miss Greet alleged that Mrs Larden was Mr Hackle's local accomplice over the fake kidnap. That she suggested the flat as the hideout, and visited Mr Hackle there every day since Sunday, supplying him with food and er … and other things.'

‘I find that difficult to credit,' said Molly quickly, in a tone more reactive than convinced. Her husband remained silent.

‘Miss Greet said Mrs Larden had just finished decorating the flat for the owners,' the policeman went on. ‘She knew it'd be available, and free of interference. Miss Greet made the reservation and picked up the key. That was on Sunday, she said. Later that day, she handed the key over to Mr Hackle.'

‘What has Jane Larden said to all this, Inspector?' asked Treasure.

‘At first she denied it, sir.'

‘Had she been told how Hackle died?'

‘She was told at the end of the interview. She still stuck to her denial, but later she called her husband. An hour ago, she came to Chiswick police station with her husband and their solicitor. She then made a voluntary statement.'

‘Did that confirm Miss Greet's allegations?'

‘It did, yes. Mrs Larden went further. She admitted she'd been with Mr Hackle yesterday from four thirty to six. When she left him he was alive and well. She said they were lovers. That the plot was to make it financially feasible for her to leave her husband for Mr Hackle.'

‘Astonishing,' said Molly.

‘Where's Mrs Larden now?' asked Treasure, in an overcasual tone.

‘At home, I expect.' Furlong looked from one to the other. ‘We haven't detained her, if that's what you meant. She mentioned you telephoned her yesterday evening, Mrs Treasure?'

‘Yes. About some curtaining.'

‘Do you remember the time of the call? It could be important.'

‘I can see that.' Molly thought for a moment. ‘It was straight after the radio news bulletin. The short one at seven. Must have been five past seven.'

‘Thank you.' The policeman ticked something in his notebook.

‘I called her at home. So she could hardly have been in Chiswick at six forty.'

‘As a matter of fact she could have, Mrs Treasure,' said the policeman. ‘But probably not after five to seven. The drive from Mereworth Court to her house can be done in five to ten minutes. Depending on traffic. The time of death is only approximate, of course.'

‘Another drink, Inspector?'

‘No thank you, sir. I'd better be going.'

‘But not until you've told us why you came.' Treasure gave a shrewd smile. ‘I mean, you haven't divulged all this fascinating information simply for our edification? Or as a trade for what my wife just told you, and which you probably expected.'

‘Well there is one other thing, sir.' The hand went twice through his hair again, this time even more rapidly. ‘You see, Mrs Larden also said Mr Hackle told her you knew about an arrangement to bring down the price of Closter shares last Tuesday. So that Krontag could buy the company. He said you'd arranged to be well away in America for that reason.'

‘Indeed?' Treasure responded, poker-faced. ‘Then I can only say, Inspector, that if you or Mrs Larden believe that, you'll believe anything.'

‘So you think he told Jane you were involved just to make it all sound more … I don't know, respectable, perhaps?' Molly asked her husband.

‘Respectable's a bit fanciful, but yes, I think that's possible. If he really did tell her such a brazen lie. If she didn't just make it up herself.' Treasure spooned into the depths of the orange Antiguan melon with more vigour than was necessary. The calumny was irritating deeply.

The Detective Inspector had left half an hour before. The Treasures were in the kitchen, finishing the informal dinner Molly had set out there earlier. They were at the round table in the window, with its cushioned banquette that seated two people in comfort and up to four with a squeeze.

‘But why would Jane invent such a terrible thing to say?'

‘Because she could be trying to make the kidnap and swindle seem more of a – let's say, a group activity.'

‘In contrast to her affair with Dermot?' said Molly acidly. Then she shook her head. ‘Even so, I still can't believe it was Jane on her own. Dermot
must
have told her.'

‘But why did Bob let her repeat such a thing to the police?'

‘He didn't know she was going to. In advance, I mean. The Inspector said it surprised Bob and the lawyer.'

‘I must have missed that.' He spooned out some more of the melon, looking a little less disgruntled.

‘And if Dermot really did pretend to her that you were party to bringing down the share price, didn't she have to admit it? Wouldn't she have been sort of on oath?'

Treasure pulled a face. ‘In a manner of speaking, yes. But since the man's dead, it'll now be his word against mine for the rest of time.'

‘No it won't be. You're dramatising.' Molly stretched a hand across the table to one of his. ‘The Inspector obviously believed you.'

‘Policemen work on hard evidence not blind faith. Furlong is deeper than he looks. Probably why he's so young for his rank.'

‘No one's going to believe you were part of a swindle. And why should you have gone to Zürich like that if you had been? Forcing Krontag to own up. Exposing Helga Greet?'

‘What if Hackle told Helga Greet the same lie as he told Jane Larden?' He frowned over this new awful possibility.

‘Well he didn't. Because if he had she'd have told the Zürich police. When she was confessing all. Trying to excuse herself.'

‘That's probably true.'

‘I'm sure it is.' Molly smoothed an eyebrow. ‘You know, I still can't help feeling dreadfully sorry for Bob Larden. To be done out of the company and his wife by his trusted lieutenant.'

Treasure looked at the time. ‘I'll ring him again when we've finished.' He had called the Fulham number twice before they had started eating. There had been no reply, and the answering machine hadn't been switched on. ‘Apart from Jane's bombshell about me, I must talk to Bob about the murder tonight.' His hand went out to his wine glass. ‘I just hope Jane didn't do it.'

‘You don't seriously think she could have?'

Treasure shrugged. ‘She knew where he was. She admits being with him up to six. In terms of timing she had the opportunity, obviously.'

‘But why would she— '

‘Who knows? They could have quarrelled. They would both have been on edge. Perhaps Dermot had just been using her. Once he thought his million pounds was safe he could have told her he was dropping her for one of his other women. He might even have relented about taking her away from Bob.'

‘Could she have got hold of the knock-out drug?'

‘The Bovetormaz? Yes. Or at least she'd have had similar opportunities to everybody else to nick some.'

‘Not such good opportunities as a Closter director?'

‘Probably not. But Bob may keep samples of products at home.'

‘Of lethal drugs?'

‘Most drugs are lethal. Taken in large enough quantities,' he answered pedantically. ‘But yes, I agree, it's unlikely he'd have had any of that one lying about. Maybe Dermot really did have some with him.'