Deadly Deceit (17 page)

He nodded. “I went over to Provo on an early plane, but I flew straight back. We had a problem with Mrs Pearson’s daughter. She wasn’t being very co-operative, and my officers wanted me to talk to her.”

“Problem?” Jess asked.

He nodded. “She was the one who found her mother’s body yesterday.” He looked up. “Around midday, when we were up at the lighthouse.”

Jess frowned. “Why didn’t she find it earlier?”

“Oh, she doesn’t live with her mother,” he said. “She’s married with a child of her own. She’d been ringing her mother all morning, and got no reply. So she picked her child up from the kindergarten around 11.30 for lunch, and drove up to her mother’s house.”

Jess could just imagine what a dreadful scene the poor woman had walked into. “Must have been terrible for her.”

“Yes.” He stopped. “Now, she refuses point blank to go back into the house. But if burglary was the reason for the murder, she’s the only one who can tell us if there’s anything missing. But she insists that she will never set foot in the house again.”

“Do you think it might have been a burglary gone wrong?” Jess asked.

He looked down. “We’re exploring all lines of enquiry at the moment. But there were no signs of a forced entry. The front door was closed as usual when the daughter turned up. She let herself in with her key.” He sighed. “We’re interviewing the domestic staff at the moment. They’re Haitians.”

Jess looked up. “Talking of Haitians,” she said. “Your officers don’t seem to be taking Mrs Canning’s fears about her dog seriously. On my advice, she phoned yesterday to report that her dog’s collar had been returned and left on her back patio. There were three so-called coffin nails punched into it.”

He nodded, wearily. “Yes. I heard about it.”

“So why didn’t your officers take the collar away for examination? And why aren’t they taking her safety seriously? It might seem like a simple voodoo joke to them, but don’t forget she’s the wife of the Chief Justice on this island. He’s been responsible for jailing local criminals here, so this could be some kind of payback.”

“Oh my officers don’t think it’s a joke.” Dexter shook his head. “No, they were… nervous of handling the collar.”

“Why? Because of the… curse those nails are supposed to bring with them?”

He nodded. “The local people don’t really believe in voodoo, but that doesn’t stop them being scared to get involved.”

“It’s their job,” she said. “Would you please ask them to go back and get the collar and investigate the disappearance of Mrs Canning’s dog properly?” She paused. “With everything that’s gone on, we should be taking this curse, or rather the threat it conveys, more seriously. As the Chief Justice is away, don’t you think it would be prudent to put a police guard on her house for a while?”

He sighed. “You’re right, of course.”

“And could you please keep me informed of developments on these investigations as they progress,” she said, pointedly. “I have to report regularly to London.” She paused as her mind turned to the Governor’s car crash. How could she broach her suspicions that it wasn’t an accident, without mentioning that woman in Provo and her warning. “Have you found the vehicle that hit the Governor’s car yet?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, my officers are still searching.”

“Do you still think the stolen supermarket truck was involved?”

He nodded. “I do, because we can’t find it. Someone has it well hidden.”

She wondered just how difficult it could be to find a large supermarket truck on such a small island. “I find the whole incident bizarre,” she said. “Why was the Governor driving down from the lighthouse in the early hours of the morning anyway? It seems his car and the truck were the only two vehicles on the road. Funny that they should hit each other, and that no-one saw anything.” She paused. “Or have any witnesses come forward now?”

He shook his head. “No witnesses.”

Why was she not surprised? “If the Governor’s car was travelling as fast as you seem to think, Dexter, the impact would have been serious. Wouldn’t the driver of the truck be injured too?”

“We’ve checked with the clinic and doctors on the island,” he replied. “No-one has presented with injuries of that nature.”

Something in the way he shifted on his seat before answering her last question suggested he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Are you sure it was an accident?” she asked, in a level voice.

His eyes widened briefly, then he replied: “I have a copy of the accident report for you.” He grunted with the effort of bending down to his briefcase on the floor and pulled out a document. “The preliminary findings, anyway.”

She got up and took the document. “What does it conclude?”

“That it was an accident,” he said.

“An accident? How can it conclude it was an accident when you haven’t found the other vehicle and driver yet?”

He went on: “The Governor’s car which, as you know, he was driving himself, was travelling at a speed of almost 70mph. That is very fast on that downhill, single-lane stretch of road. At the only junction along that road, a truck coming from another direction ploughed into the driver’s door. It was a serious impact. The Governor’s car caught fire and, well, we know the rest.”

Jess was pacing around the office now, thinking back to the wreck in the Government Garage. The sequence of events sounded plausible, and the damage reported seemed to correspond with what she’d seen. The car was burnt black, so it had been a serious fire. But how had the Governor got out alive?” She looked at Dexter. “I saw the Governor’s car in the Government Garage last night. How did he get out of that blaze alive? Not out the driver’s door, that’s for sure, the metal was too buckled.”

Dexter shifted again in his seat. “We think he climbed across the seat, and out the passenger door.”

Jess turned that over in her mind. It was the impact that caused the serious injuries to the Governor, not burns from the fire that followed. If he’d been so badly injured at impact, how could he have climbed across the seat and got out the passenger door? She looked at Dexter.

But he just looked away.

Her mind turned to the argument that Sally had heard between Clement Pearson and the Governor just before Clement committed suicide. Again, she wouldn’t tell the Police Commissioner about the argument, but she would ask him about the two men. “How well did the Governor and Clement Pearson know each other?”

“Very well,” he replied. “They were colleagues.”

“Did they get on well?”

“They were both gentlemen,” he said, as if that answered her question.

So what were they arguing about, she wondered? And why? “There’s a sequence of events here, Dexter, that are puzzling. First, Clement Pearson commits suicide. Why? Then the Governor has a serious car crash, and later dies. Then
Mrs
Pearson is brutally murdered. Again, why?” She paused. “These events are shocking. The question is, how are they connected?”

Dexter mopped his forehead again. It was too chilly in the cold air conditioning for him to be sweating this time. He was buying time to think.

“Do you know how they are connected?” she asked again. “Do you have
any
leads or motives?”

The colour had drained from Dexter’s lips. “You’re getting ahead of the investigation, Jess.”

She sat back in the chair, and rubbed her eyes. She was getting nowhere.

“We need to be patient,” he insisted, “and wait for the evidence to emerge.”

But Jess had no more patience. She would definitely request UK police assistance, but she wanted Dexter to agree to this. “Have you got enough officers and resources to continue to investigate Mrs Pearson’s murder as well as to find the vehicle and driver who killed the Governor?” Her words were rather blunt, but she wanted to shock Dexter into doing something. “The Governor’s crash was a hit and run. So until you have found the truck and driver and established it really was an accident, don’t you think we should keep an open mind?”

For a brief moment, she saw panic in his eyes.

Then he replied: “I am quite sure we can manage both the investigation into the Governor’s accident, and Mrs Pearson’s murder, with the resources and manpower we already have here.”

“Can you, Dexter?” She knew it would be easier to bring UK police officers onto the island with his co-operation. He was the Police Chief, and commanded the respect of the locals. “Wouldn’t it be helpful to have more boots to cover the ground? And more forensics, and other, experts.”

The Police Commissioner said nothing.

She went on: “Once the British media get to know about the question marks still hanging over the Governor’s car accident,
and
the horror of Mrs Pearson’s murder, they’ll be all over these islands. They’ll poke into every nook and cranny until they get to the truth.”

He stared at her.

“The pressure will be intense You do realise you’ll be in the firing line if there’s no quick resolution.” She paused. “Wouldn’t it be better to work with outside assistance to share the pressure and responsibility?”

She noticed the tremor in his hands again. He was clearly weighing her words up carefully in his mind, like the measured man he was.

After a while he said: “I am not requesting outside police assistance, Jess, but I can see that I won’t be able to stop you. Nor can I stop London sending police officers to the island.”

She nodded. She interpreted his words to mean that he didn’t want to be
seen
by his own people to be requesting outside help. “Good,” she said. “I’ll request police assistance in the Governor’s absence. To everyone outside this room, it will be a case of London sending assistance whether we want it or not.”

The door creaked open and they both looked round.

Sally poked her head in. “The Director’s on the phone for you, Jess.”

The Police Commissioner took his cue and hauled himself wearily out of the chair.

“We need to be in constant contact, Dexter,” she said. “I can’t wait a whole working day for you to call me back. Likewise, I wouldn’t expect you to wait that long for me either.”

He nodded and picked up his hat. “Shall I call on you here every day at 5pm to discuss developments? If there’s anything important you should know before then, I will telephone.”

“Yes, thank you.”

At the door he turned. “I am really sorry about the Governor, Jess. He was a good man at heart. I hope you will relay my sincere condolences to Jayne.”

It was said with such sincerity, Jess believed him. The trouble was the Police Commissioner was a difficult man to read behind that quiet, unassuming manner. She also couldn’t forget that scene in the café this morning. Roger Pearson looked like he was in complete control of Dexter Robinson. She’d already decided that she couldn’t trust Roger, which meant she couldn’t trust the Police Commissioner either.

She went back to the desk and picked up the phone.

Jess sat behind the Governor’s desk waiting for Sally and Alvita. Outside, the light had faded, and the room was cast in shadows. The gloom matched her own mood. Only a couple of days ago the Governor had been sitting at this desk working. Now he was dead.

Not for the first time she wondered what kind of man he’d been. His office was an exact replica of his study in the Residence – same furniture, same book shelves, and same world globe. What did that say about him? Organised? Predictable? A safe pair of hands rather than a risk taker? She picked up the framed photo of Jayne and his two children sitting on the end of his desk. She could see it had been taken outside on the beach because the Residence was in the background. And she guessed the Governor had been behind the camera, because his family’s eyes were so full of love.

Now, they would never see him again.

Tears welled up in her eyes. It had been four years since Jack and Amy had died in that terrible accident, and it still felt like yesterday.

At that moment, Sally and Alvita walked in. They looked at her and hesitated.

Jess put the photo back in its place and stood up. “Come in.” She walked over to the conference table and gestured to them to sit down. “I was just looking at that photo of the Governor’s wife and children.” She sighed. “They’ll never get over this tragedy.”

Alvita nodded sadly, and sat down.

Jess went on: “I lost my husband and young daughter in a car crash while I was working in Jakarta, you see. So I know what they’re going through.”

Sally stared at her. “I had no idea, Jess.”

“Why would you? It’s not on my CV.” She gave a sad smile. “Sometimes, things catch me unawares, like that family photo, and everything bubbles up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jess,” Alvita said. “It’s tough losing your family like that.”

Sally didn’t seem to know what else to say.

“Right,” Jess said. “I’m okay now, so let’s press on with some work.” She paused. “Our Director in London just phoned from Cyprus. He’s on holiday with his family there. That’s why it’s taken so long for him to call.”

Alvita pursed her lips so tightly they almost disappeared.

“August is our holiday month in the UK,” Jess explained. “Schools are on holiday, and officers try to take leave with their families. Departments operate a skeleton staff while everyone’s away.” She paused. “Anyway, the Director’s breaking his holiday and flying back to the UK today to take charge of the situation.”

“I should think so too,” Sally said.

“Human Resources are trying to identify someone to take over the position of Governor,” Jess said.

“That’ll take ages!” Sally huffed.

“Yes. To find someone, and go through the accreditation process will take weeks. Meanwhile, the Director’s trying to find a couple of officers to come down to help temporarily. Hopefully, they’ll have some experience of working in an Overseas Territory.”

Alvita raised her eyebrows. “No-one has ever known a thing about these islands before coming here.”

Jess couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, but when they do get here, we’ll all need to work as a team.” She was trying to send a message.

Alvita knew it was directed at her, and looked away.