BURIED CRIMES: a gripping detective thriller full of twists and turns (19 page)

Marsh shook his head. ‘Why that in particular, ma’am?’

‘Because Benny was sure it was Amaretto in his stomach. So if there was none in his flat, where did it go? Who took the bottle away?’ She paused. ‘Could you check with the cleaner that she didn’t remove a bottle from anywhere?’

Chapter 27: Sisters

Monday afternoon, week 3

Dorothy Kitson’s week had been so stressful that she’d made an appointment to see her GP. On Monday afternoon, having cancelled her usual cleaning job, she sat waiting for her allotted slot, still feeling as if her whole world might implode at any moment. Her sleep had been fitful at best and her appetite had all but disappeared. And that had been before the news about John Wethergill’s death had reached the press, causing a tidal wave of gossip to engulf the town. The weekend had been like living through a nightmare.

She realised that she needed something to calm her down and help her to sleep. Her thoughts kept returning to the story in the local newspaper about the death of John Wethergill. In the seventeen years since the end of their on-off affair in the nineties, she’d hardly thought about him. And now he was all over the news. She’d heard the rumour that he’d probably committed suicide. People were asking why he would have done such a thing, less than two weeks after the children’s bodies were found. Many of the locals knew he’d been the gardener at Finch Cottage for several years in the early nineties. But no one could remember whether his time there had overlapped with any children living at the house. He’d been cruel to Dorothy, ending their romance with no explanation and taking up with that Asian-looking woman. Dorothy’d seen them walking through the park, arm in arm. That had really hurt. To think that he’d chosen someone from abroad rather than her. The problem had been sex, of course. With men it was nearly always down to sex, wasn’t it? He’d wanted more from her than she was willing to give. When he whispered the things he wanted her to do, she’d felt sick with nerves. Why was that? Other women seemed to like sex, even her sister. Not that they talked about it much, but she knew what Pauline was like. When they were teenagers she’d hear Pauline creep in late at night. Dorothy would catch a glimpse of her as she passed her bedroom door, with that smug, satisfied smile on her face. Years later, she still radiated that sleek, self-satisfied look after a night out with some man. Not that she’d ever bothered to keep a man for very long, not Pauline. She just seemed to attract them, and she took her pick. Were all actresses like that? Putting on a show all the time?

All their lives people had been commenting on how different she and Pauline were. So marked was the difference that people were surprised they were even sisters. One glamorous, the other plain. One obviously clever, the other apparently stupid. One vibrant, the other dull. One brimming with confidence and the other timid. Yet sisters they were. And there was another, secret difference: one was full of empathy and the other was cruel. Dorothy was always taken as the elder of the two, when she was really two years younger. No matter what she did, she could never look as good as her beautiful and talented older sister. After her fling with John came to its abrupt end she’d given up trying. Of course, the smoking and drinking hadn’t helped.

The doctor appeared at the door and called her name. She rose, slightly unsteadily, and went into the consulting room. Ten minutes later she came out, clutching a prescription for some tablets. Maybe this would sort out her problems. Perhaps she should go away for a few days. A short break would do her good, and it was only a quick bus or train ride down to Weymouth. She’d check her money when she got home and see how long she could afford. With the help of the tablets she’d get a decent night’s sleep and then she’d feel much better. Maybe she’d even meet someone nice. Lots of people around her age visited Weymouth out of season. It might even be worth getting her hair done and looking for a new dress. Dorothy began to feel better.

* * *

On the other side of town, Pauline Stopley was meeting a client for lunch. He represented a large commercial manufacturing company in the area, and was planning to invest some money in local arts projects. Her regional boss had chosen Pauline specially for this task. Somehow she managed to get more grant money, and more frequently, out of potential sponsorship clients than almost anyone else in the organisation. He assumed that her acting skills were what suited her to the task, and he was right. Pauline saw it as a role. An impartial observer would note the seductive techniques she used on her clients and that it didn’t matter whether they were male or female. They fell into the trap just the same.

Pauline left the meeting having secured a donation for a Dorset theatre group. She didn’t feel like returning directly to her office. If John had still been alive, she would have popped into his shop for a chat and, if he’d been able to leave the place with his assistant, she might have lured him away to his flat for an hour or two. His death had put paid to all that. She sat on the low wall outside St Peter’s Church on the High Street, took out her mobile phone and sent a short text message. She waited, watching people hurrying by in the rare April sunshine. She glanced at the screen, and pursed her lips in disappointment. One lover dead, and the other too busy to get away from work. There was no option but to return to work herself. Unless she could find someone else in the next few minutes. She’d wondered about her lunch client, but he’d been much too patronising. There was no need to hurry back to her office, so perhaps she ought to pop into the nearby Corn Exchange building to see her sister. Dorothy had a cleaning job there on Mondays. Pauline turned back down the High Street and saw that the main doors to the building were open. Workmen were moving barrels out of the entrance and into waiting vans and she quietly slipped past them into the spacious ground-floor room. Trestle tables and racks were being dismantled, and a smell of beer lingered in the air. There was no sign of Dorothy.

‘Hello! Isn’t it Pauline Stopley?’

She turned to face the tall, good-looking man who’d spoken to her. Well, things were beginning to look up. She gave him the benefit of her most brilliant smile. ‘Hi. I hope I’m not intruding. I was passing by and was intrigued by what was going on, so I decided to take a look inside. It’s decades since I was last in here. I hope I’m not causing any bother. Have we met recently? You seem familiar. Are you from round here?’

‘No, I live in Wareham. We’re clearing up after the weekend beer exhibition.’

‘It’s a beautiful building, isn’t it? The restoration work has been done so well. So do you work here, or for the beer trade?’

He laughed. ‘Hardly. I’m a teacher. Martin Allen.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m on Dorset’s real ale committee and the local group have just had their spring exhibition. They needed someone to oversee the clearing up today after the local person suddenly fell ill, so I foolishly volunteered. It’s the school Easter holidays.’ He paused. ‘And we met last weekend, at the Arts Centre. My daughter Hannah gave the FGM talk.’

Pauline nodded. ‘Now I remember . . . So that means that your wife is . . ?’

‘Is what?’

‘A senior police officer?’

‘Yes, she is. Why do you ask?’

‘No reason really. Well, there is. She interviewed me on Friday. So she hasn’t mentioned me?’

Martin looked puzzled. ‘No. She’s not allowed to talk about ongoing cases. You seem worried about it.’

‘No, no. Not at all.’ The smile was back. ‘It’s just that I was shocked by the sudden death of someone close to me.’ She paused. ‘Well, to be honest he was my lover. It shook me up and I haven’t got back to normal yet.’

‘That’s entirely understandable. It takes time to come to terms with sudden death. By the way, I should thank you for taking the time to meet up with Hannah last week and give her the benefit of your experience. I’m sure she appreciated it.’

Pauline looked disoriented again for a moment. ‘It was a pleasure. I’m always glad to help aspiring actresses.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Well, I’d better be getting back to the office. Work will be piling up. Goodbye.’

She turned and walked out. Martin watched her leave.

On her way back to her workplace, Pauline tried to phone her sister, but there was no reply. Not for the first time, Pauline wished her sister would keep her mobile phone switched on. Dorothy claimed the calls and messages made her feel nervous.

* * *

Martin mentioned his meeting with Pauline Stopley to Sophie and Jade at their evening meal. ‘It was a bit peculiar,’ he said. ‘One moment she was all smiles and fluttering eyelashes, and the next she was giving guarded looks. It happened when I mentioned Hannah, too.’

‘See, Mum,’ Jade said indignantly, ‘I said it was weird. She was definitely talking to that strange Dorothy woman from the café at the FGM talk, but she denied it.’

‘Who denied it? Who are we talking about here, Jade?’ Sophie replied, puzzled.

‘Dorothy, the one at the café. She denied knowing this Pauline woman. But they were sitting together, and I know they were talking. And Dorothy had her coat on the seat next to her as if she was keeping it for someone. She moved it off when Pauline arrived. If they didn’t know each other why did she do that? There were loads of empty seats, so someone coming in at the last minute would have chosen one of those if she didn’t already know someone there.’

‘Fine, Jade. I’ll bear it in mind. Satisfied now?’

‘Maybe I’ll give Hannah a call this evening to see if she can enlighten me,’ Martin added.

Sophie remained tight-lipped. She didn’t tell her husband and younger daughter about the shift in mood during her own interview with Pauline Stopley. It had also occurred when she mentioned the actress’s meeting with Hannah.

Later that evening Martin came into Sophie’s study while she was tidying away some papers.

‘I think I have the Pauline Stopley problem solved,’ he said. ‘Hannah was a little embarrassed on the phone, but told me what had happened. Apparently Pauline made a pass at her.’

Sophie gasped. ‘What?’

‘That was my reaction. I asked her if she could have been mistaken and misinterpreted it in some way, but she said not. Apparently they talked about it before they went their separate ways. Pauline probably felt understandably embarrassed by it when she met us. She must wonder whether we know.’

‘Well, we do now.’

‘The strange thing is, Sophie, before she realised who I was, she was really flirting with me.’

‘How strongly?’

‘Hand on my arm, her thigh brushing my leg. She stood so close I could feel her body warmth.’

Sophie giggled. ‘Am I going to have to fit you with a tracking device? You’re trying to get me jealous now.’

‘Seriously. I was getting worried.’

‘Okay. Noted. You get ten brownie points for loyalty and honesty. What does that equate to? A cup of tea in bed in the morning?’

There was a pause before Martin replied. ‘Umm, how about some nookie tonight?’

Sophie looked at him critically. ‘Martin Allen. Your seduction techniques have reached rock bottom. Is that the best you can do? I remember the days when you bought me roses, plied me with champagne and fed me fine food. Now you just feed me some yarn about how you nearly got picked up by an ageing actress with a hot flush.’

‘So is that a yes, then?’

Chapter 28: Cynic

Tuesday morning, week 3

‘So the DNA matches?’

‘Apparently so. And with both of them, so there’s no doubt about it.’ Marsh sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out under the table. ‘We didn’t need the hairbrush after all. Both Kenneth and Li Hua had already been profiled because of how their deaths occurred. They were both on file. All the forensic expert had to do was compare them with the children’s, and those were ready yesterday, as you know.’

Sophie nodded. ‘So now we know that we’re on the right track and we haven’t been wasting our time. That’s a relief, I can tell you. I’ve been worried since we saw that photo of the two Philippino children in John Wethergill’s flat. We could have switched direction entirely at that point and wasted so much time. I’ll let the ACC know once we’ve finished this briefing. So, we have a family of four, all dead within five years of each other and all, we think, in suspicious or accidental circumstances. What could we be looking at here?’

One of the local detectives spoke up. ‘Sounds like some kind of revenge. A family feud? Maybe even a gangland payback. Could they have crossed one of the Chinese Triad gangs when they were in Hong Kong?’

‘They were both doctors. Is it likely?’

Marsh said, ‘we do have to think of all possibilities, ma’am.’

Rae added, ‘Sean could be right with his first suggestion, though. What if it was some kind of personal revenge? Not necessarily Chinese. Could there be a clue somewhere in their past, do you think?’

Sophie nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. We need more information about the parents first. I’m going to suggest we reconvene this afternoon after we’ve had another spell of digging into their background. Once we’ve learned more about them, we might be in a better position to speculate. And keep this quiet, everyone. We’ll let people continue thinking that Wethergill’s death was suicide and he was the twins’ probable killer.’ She waited until the local Dorchester detectives had returned to their work stations before speaking to Barry and Rae. ‘It seems that every avenue we investigate brings us to the name Pauline. We need to know if it’s the same one. Was the Pauline Stopley who was having an affair with Wethergill the same Pauline who married Richard Camberwell in Bristol after the death of Li Hua? Does she correspond to the P Camberwell on the residents’ records of Finch Cottage?’

‘If she is the same one, do we move in on her?’

‘Not yet. It’s all too circumstantial. And by the way, she turned up at the Old Cornmarket yesterday and chatted to Martin while he was clearing up after the local beerex. Would you believe it? But we have no direct evidence on her and I’ll need something much more definite to work with before we bring her in. We need to keep an eye on her, though. Can you arrange that, Barry? Meanwhile, let’s backtrack through Wethergill’s activities over the past week or two. List where he went, who he met, that kind of thing. Rae, could you follow up that restaurant contact urgently, please? You remember, the couple who sat next to his table last week?’

‘Already done, ma’am. They’re coming in later this morning.’

‘Good work. I’ll see them. Meanwhile, you find out everything you can about Pauline Stopley. She might turn out to be the key person in all this. Put a photo of her up on the incident board. We need to let everyone know that she’s a person of interest, even though there’s nothing definite yet.’

* * *

Later that morning Theresa Jackson, the Freeman family’s liaison officer, called into the incident room to let Sophie know that the family no longer needed to see her on a regular basis. From now on they’d call her if a visit was required. Theresa read through the information posted on the incident board. She hurried over to Sophie, who was perched on the corner of Barry’s desk chatting to him about John Wethergill.

‘Ma’am, you have Pauline Stopley on the incident board.’

‘Yes. Her name keeps cropping up, but we’re not sure how she ties in to any of the events. Why?’

‘You remember that I saw Jill Freeman acting a bit suspiciously not long after the twins’ bodies had been discovered? I saw her getting into a car with someone and I thought they embraced? You told me to run a check on the car but not to take it any further unless I thought it was linked in some way. Well, there was no obvious link so I didn’t say anything. But I have to now. That car is registered to Pauline Stopley.’

Barry pursed his lips. ‘Is there something going on between them? Is that what you’re trying to tell us?’

‘I don’t know. But Karen, the daughter, is convinced there’s something wrong between her parents. She told me this morning when I called in on my way to work. She asked if I could give her a lift to school instead of her getting the bus. It’s the first time she’s done that. I twigged that she wanted to talk about something, but thought it would be about the case. Instead she told me that she’d overheard some talk between her parents at the weekend and says that her mum is acting a bit strange.’

Sophie asked, ‘did she say how long it had been going on?’

‘Recent, I think. She says that she’s only noticed it in the past couple of weeks. Probably that incident I told you about was the first. That’s what made her suspicious. She’s a perceptive young woman, considering the strain she must be under. I think she’s really worried. She’s been nosing about and says that her mum bought some sexy underwear at the weekend. She’s worn it, but not with Karen’s dad. At least, she doesn’t think so. The poor girl is really worried. She was in tears. Of course, she won’t suspect that her mum’s having an affair with a woman. She’ll be worried about her running off with another man.’

‘Thanks, Theresa. We needed to know. Listen, would you mind if I got you seconded onto our team for the duration of the investigation? I know you’ve been keeping me updated, but we could use your insight into the family if there’s something going on. What do you think?’

Theresa put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’d love to, ma’am. But d’you think it would it be okay with my bosses?’

‘Leave it with me. Go and waste time for five minutes. By the time you get back to your office I hope it’ll have been cleared. I’ll do it now. You’ll be working for Rae over there but reporting to Barry. And you’ll stay as the family liaison for the Freemans. Okay? Plain clothes, but keep them smart.’

Theresa was beaming as she left the office. Sophie turned to her sergeant.

‘Well, what does this latest bit of news mean? Pauline Stopley’s quite some woman, isn’t she? And there’s something else I should tell you that I was keeping quiet about. She’s already made passes at two members of my family, Martin and Hannah.’ Marsh looked confused. ‘I’d better explain, hadn’t I? From what I can tell, it’s a wonder she didn’t make a pass at me while I was interviewing her last week. Maybe I should be feeling disappointed.’

Barry’s look of bemusement was still there after Sophie had finished her tale.

* * *

Sophie had chosen the most comfortable interview room in the police station, and had ordered a tray of coffee and biscuits.

‘It’s just horrible to think that he died that night after his evening out at the restaurant. We were sitting at the next table. He seemed such a nice man. How’s his partner taking it? Or shouldn’t we ask?’

‘We interviewed her the next day and she was understandably upset. They weren’t longstanding partners, though. They’d only met the previous week.’ Sophie threw this in deliberately, to see the reaction. Barry Marsh leaned against a wall, watching.

‘Gosh. That’s really, well, surprising. I mean, they were obviously deeply involved with each other.’ The young woman, Rachel, was blushing. She took a sip of coffee and a bite of biscuit to hide her embarrassment.

‘I’ll need to know why you thought that, Rachel. Nothing you say will go outside these four walls, don’t worry. Okay?’

She nodded, then took a deep breath and repeated the conversation they’d overheard at the restaurant.

‘So you’d say that the two of them seemed to be getting on well?’

‘Yes, absolutely. And he was so obviously disappointed when she said she couldn’t go home with him that night. But it didn’t last long. He cheered up when she invited him round to hers a few days later. That’s when we got embarrassed, wasn’t it, Jordan?’ Her boyfriend nodded but said nothing, nibbling at a biscuit. ‘It was when she told him to wear his silk briefs again and expect some more adventures. She could tell we’d overheard, but she just smiled at us and winked. I mean, it was all a bit brazen.’

‘Did they definitely go separate ways when they left the restaurant? They could have changed their minds, you see.’

Jordan spoke for the first time. ‘Yes. They chatted outside the door for a few minutes, and then they went in opposite directions. Rachel couldn’t see, but I could ‘cause I was facing the door. He went into town but she walked away from it.’ He seemed about to say more but stopped.

‘Is there something else, Jordan?’ Sophie asked.

‘Someone might have been watching them from across the street. There was a figure in a shop doorway that I spotted a bit earlier. Whoever it was came across the road just after your couple parted.’

‘You didn’t tell me about it, Jordan.’ Rachel sounded annoyed.

‘Well, it wasn’t important then, was it? And I can’t be absolutely sure even now.’

‘Which way did this figure go?’ asked Marsh.

‘The same way as the bloke.’

‘Did you get a good look?’

‘Not really. He came across at a slant, so he was sideways on. In a jacket with the hood up. Quite short.’ He picked up another biscuit.

* * *

‘What do you think, Barry?’

Marsh sat down on one of the chairs the couple had vacated. ‘It proves nothing. Pauline could have called him and said she’d changed her plans. She could have turned up at his flat as a surprise. She could have even got there before him if her car was nearby and she drove. That restaurant must be a good ten minute walk from his shop and flat. It could have all been a deliberate plant, laying a false trail in preparation for when we started our questioning. As for this person who might have been watching, Jordan was a bit vague about it. As he said himself, he was in a lit restaurant staring out onto a dark street. It could have been anybody.’

‘You’re a cynic, Barry, particularly about our friend the actress.’

He laughed. ‘Well, after what you told me, and added to Theresa’s suspicions, I wouldn’t put anything past that woman. She seems totally unscrupulous. To be honest, I can’t get my head round this latest bit of information about her.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Barry, neither can I. Maybe we’d better get her in, although I’d prefer to wait until we get a few more facts in place. Did you post a check on her?’

Marsh nodded. ‘It’s not a full time watch, just at the times she’s likely to be moving. She’s at work at the moment, in the Arts Council offices.’

Sophie thought for a few moments. ‘On second thoughts, I think I might pay her a visit this afternoon and have things out with her. It’ll save us a lot of time if she opens up about her past, and her link to Finch Cottage. Do you want to come? Rae can take over from you now that we’ve got Theresa doing some of the donkey work. Our problem is that there’s just no direct evidence against her and we’ll need something definite before we can make an arrest. I think a steamroller approach is called for. Maybe we should rattle her composure a bit. Okay? Give me ten minutes to get my look right. This is the woman who’s tried it on with two members of my family. I want to show her just what she’s up against.’