Witchmoor Edge (12 page)

"Yes ma'am."

“Now Tony, any word on either the tyre treads
or the items from the picnic site?"

"Picnic site first," D.S. Gibbs said.

"Pull up chairs all three of you," Hampshire
said. "Sorry. Go on Tony."

"I went through the till receipt," Gibbs
said, perching on the edge of a table opposite. "Two yoghurts and a
jar of diabetic jam were on the list. I checked with Mrs Hunter.
Neither she nor her husband is or was - diabetic. According to
forensic, all of the items turned in had nobody's prints but
Hunter's."

"Wiped clean?"

"Looked that way to forensic," Gibbs agreed.
"They also said that the prints were too clear to be natural if
he'd thrown the various items."

"It sounds as if Mrs. Hunter's version of
events is not true, then?" Millicent asked.

"Seems like it could be that way."

"And of course," Hampshire added
thoughtfully, "it throws Ellen Barnes's story into serious doubt as
well. Anything on the tyre tracks yet?"

"Yes there is. That's interesting too."

"In what way?"

"There's no match for two sets of car tracks
or the bicycle, but the other matched Shields car."

"Did it, by God! What's the evidence?"

"No doubt about it," Gibbs said. "There's a
nick in the tread here." He jabbed his finger at a point on one of
the two photographs and passed them both over. He pointed again to
the mark as Millicent held the pictures.

"Add to that there's a very slight wearing
towards the outside of the front nearside tyres in both
pictures."

Millicent took a magnifying glass from her
drawer and studied the two shots, moving from one print to the
other.

"There's not much doubt that the two are the
same tyre," she said. "So Shields was there and his statement was
deliberately misleading."

"By the over laying of prints, he must have
arrived after the Porsche and left before it as well."

Millicent considered the news.

"I want you and Gary Goss to go and pick up
Sheldon Shields and bring him in for questioning. I'll talk to him
myself and confront him with the evidence. I'll have Tommy with me
for the interview if he's back and DC Goss can go chase Uncle Olu,
Sansom and Barker. DS Turner can have another go at Barnes and Dent
and try and get them to shift their story, when she gets back from
seeing Gloria Cullen."

"Tony," she added, "I'd like you to go and
check out Rosie O'Connor's bike tyres and then check out the
background of a Doctor Leverett, without talking to her or letting
her know that the check is going on. Then have a quick look at how
Bright is doing with the door to door enquiries."

Millicent addressed all three. "So far," she
said, "we're uncovering loads of motives, several suspects with
access to morphine and several lies, half truths and deliberately
misleading statements. Let's see if we can narrow it down a
bit."

When the others had gone Millicent still sat
at her desk, fingers drumming softly. "Where the hell is the
Porsche?" she said out loud.

The only other person within earshot was PC
Downing, entering data. She thought Hampshire was talking to her.
"Beg your pardon ma’am," she said.

"Nothing Gail. I was just talking to myself.
I was wondering what had become of the Porsche. There's nothing on
my interest report is there?"

"Not so far," she replied. "Do you want me to
renew the report?"

"Yes," Millicent said, "And put it as
urgent."

She picked up her phone and dialled Chief
Inspector Cooke.

"Ah, Bob, Millicent here. Can I go to the
press and get them to cover the need to find the Porsche? The
Interest Report hasn't turned anything up yet."

"I had them on an hour or so ago asking for
an update," Cooke answered. "It would help relations to ask for
their help. I've also had a couple of the nationals on."

"You're thinking about that Press Conference,
I take it."

"Precisely."

"There's not a lot clear cut to say, but I
guess we could say enough to keep them happy for the time
being."

"I was thinking of early afternoon tomorrow.
Say, two o'clock. As the officer in charge I'd need you there."

Millicent pulled a face at the phone, but her
tone didn't change.

"And the Porsche?" she asked.

"We don't have a photo, I suppose, but
they'll either mention it in passing or use a stock picture," Cooke
mused. "I think you could ring them yourself. Ask for Adam
Sutcliffe at the Argus. He's the editor and a golfing friend."

"Okay," she said, and rang off.

She got an outside line and dialled the
Witchmoor Argus.

"Argus, can I help?" asked a neutral female
voice.

"Adam Sutcliffe, the editor," Hampshire
said.

"I'll see if he's available," said the
receptionist. "Who's calling?"

"Detective Inspector Hampshire, Witchmoor
Edge Police Headquarters. Tell him Chief Inspector Cooke asked me
to call."

"Just a moment."

Sutcliffe was available - probably the name
dropping did the trick, because he answered with alacrity. "What
can I do for you inspector?" he asked.

"You know that strange fire and the even
stranger murder victim at the weekend?" Millicent asked.

"Oh yes?"

"The victim was last seen in or around his
car," she said. "He turned up in the canal, but there's no sign of
the car. I've put out an interest report, so everyone in West
Yorkshire police is looking for it and the report will show up
whenever there's any computer enquiry about the vehicle, anywhere
in the country, but it hasn't turned up. Bob Cooke was wondering if
you could run a 'have you seen this car' type story in the
Argus."

"Love to," said Sutcliffe. "Any theories as
to where it's gone?"

"We dragged the canal to see if it was there,
with the body. It was claimed to have been seen, up on the edge of
the moors near East Morton around two on Saturday. I think you can
safely say the police are baffled, though personally and off the
record, I think both car and victim might have been intended for
the fire."

"Okay, I'll run a story in the Main Edition
today. The Early Edition's already gone to press, but there’s
nothing earth shattering in it. I'll write the story myself right
now."

"Thanks very much. My Chief Inspector will be
duly grateful, I think."

"My pleasure. Keep us abreast of any
developments."

Next Millicent rang the Leeds office of the
Frankfurt-Manhattan Bank and asked for the personnel
department.

"Sue Gaines, personnel,” a voice said.

"Detective Inspector Hampshire here. I'm
calling from Witchmoor Edge CID," she said. "I'd like to make some
enquiries about a former employer. As it's confidential information
I'm after, perhaps you'd like to ring back and satisfy yourself
that it's a genuine call. It may be a good idea for me to talk to
the Personnel Officer, if I'm not already doing so."

"You are!" Ms. Gaines said. "Who did you say
you were?"

"Detective Inspector Hampshire. If you call
the Witchmoor Edge Police number given in the telephone directory
you'll get through to main switchboard and you can ask for me. My
direct line would be quicker and more efficient, but of course it
wouldn't prove who I was."

"I'll call you back immediately."

It actually took several minutes for Ms
Gaines to look up the number and get through the switchboard, but
Millicent was waiting for the call.

"Sorry about all the performance," Millicent
said. "But I wanted confidential information quickly and this
seemed the best way to get it. I didn't want to write or call at
this stage, because what you say may simply confirm what your
former employee tells us."

"I'm intrigued," Ms Gaines said. "Whom are we
talking about?"

"Rosie O'Connor. She told us that she got
hooked on heroin, dried out in a clinic at the end of last year
while you kept her job vacant and then was fired about a week or so
ago."

"Yes. It’s pretty hard to find good IT staff,
so we put up with more from her than we would have done from most
employees."

"Why did you dismiss her?"

"It was a condition of taking her back that
she did not touch drugs again. We found her with some and dismissed
her." Ms Gaines paused. "I was looking for an excuse to get rid of
her anyway," she continued. "The silly young woman gave me the
chance."

"Why did you want rid of her."

"I don't like to be categorical because I
can't prove it, but I believe she was passing confidential
information to a man called Simon Hunter."

"We're investigating his murder," Millicent
said.

"Yes. I read about in the paper. For obvious
reasons, I normally support law and order," Ms Gaines said, "On
this occasion, however, the world is well rid of him and so is the
foolish Miss O'Connor. I hope the murderer gets away with it."

Millicent snorted but did not respond
directly.

"However," Ms Gaines added, "If you ask my
opinion - and I know you didn't - Rosie O'Connor was too enamoured
of him to do such a thing, even in spite of him being the ruthless
rogue he was."

After the call Millicent thought that the
position really was much as Rosie herself had painted it. All the
same, she could not afford to remove her from the list of
suspects.

* * *

Millicent had the photos of the tread with
her when she strode into the interview room. Tommy was sitting
there with Sheldon Shields, neither looking at the other, neither
speaking. Hampshire switched on the tape recorder.

"D.I. Hampshire, DC Hammond and Sheldon
Shields," she said. "Interview in connection with the murder of
Simon Hunter. Wednesday 15th August at ..." She glanced at her
watch. "3.25 pm."

"Now," she said, turning her attention to
Shields. "The statement you gave me yesterday was not accurate. You
missed out an important detail."

"What was that?" Shields said.

"That you were at the picnic site sometime
Saturday afternoon. You arrived after Hunter and left before he
did."

"I was nowhere near the site, wherever it
was," said Shield, smoothly and almost convincingly.

"Your car was certainly there," Millicent
said heavily. "One of these photographs is of the left front tread
marks of the tyre of a car at the picnic site. The other is the
left front tyre of your car. They look the same to me."

Hampshire passed the two prints to Shields
and waited while he studied them. Eventually he sighed and passed
them back.

"Okay," he said. "I was there with Gary
Leverett. I followed Hunter's Porsche at a distance. We parked a
bit back from the picnic site and walked closer. We saw Hunter's
Porsche with the front luggage space open and Hunter lying inside
it. He didn't answer when we spoke to him, so Gary felt his pulse.
He reckoned the guy was dead so we got out of there in a
hurry."

"Why?"

"Isn't that obvious? Here was us wanting him
dead and there he was dead, in suspicious circumstances. I thought
we'd kept in the clear and we hadn't any information about his
killer, so I kept quiet."

"What time was this?"

Shields shrugged. "Not sure," he said.
"Before 2 probably, but not much."

Millicent thought he was leaving out a lot,
but didn't say so. Apart from anything else, he'd lied to her once
and there was no guarantee any of this was true.

"I think I ought to decide whether you can
add anything to the information about the murder," she said. "Why
were you following Hunter?"

"I overheard him on the phone Friday. He told
somebody he had enough shares now and they'd discuss the matter at
the usual place at two Saturday."

"That could be vital information for a
start," Millicent said. "When and where did you start tailing
him."

"We were parked up the road from his house
from around twelve fifteen. Just as we arrived, the Porsche shot
out of the drive. I nearly lost it, but I followed it to Knowles's.
It was there in the drive for a while."

"How many people in the car?"

"It came roaring past me and I didn't get
close again. I thought there was just one guy and I assumed it was
Hunter."

"Go on."

"The Porsche turned into the drive and
stopped. It was almost out of sight - Knowles has a tree lined
drive - but I could see the red. We waited down the road a bit,
then, about one fifteen or so the Porsche pulled out of the drive
again. I followed it at a discreet distance, through Baildon and
East Morton to the picnic site. Like I said, I followed it a little
way before I stopped and we walked."

"Hold it a minute," Hampshire said. "The
Porsche. Was Hunter still driving?"

"I guess so," Shields answered. "I only saw
it close the once and I was behind it, but I guess it was him. Who
else would it have been?"

"Was Mrs Hunter in it this time?"

"Well ..." Shields thought about it. "She
easily could have been," he said. "Those head rest things look like
a person and I never thought about it. If she said she was there
I'd have to say maybe and if someone swore he was alone, I'd still
have to say maybe."

Millicent thought this was unhelpful and the
frustration showed in her expression. Was Shields still hedging his
bets or was he genuinely unsure? At any rate, his story and
Shirley's could not both be true. Either the Hunters drove to the
picnic site at eleven thirty or they drove to Knowless at twelve
fifteen: both could not correct. Which, if either, was the truth?
She turned her attention and the interrogation to the picnic
site.

"You said you got out of your car," she said,
and asked, "Did both you and Leverett get out at the same
time?"

"Sure."

"Then what?"

"We walked up to the site. We found the
Porsche, like I said. Hunter was lying in the front of it,
dead."