Destruction of Evidence (18 page)

‘Was that often?’

‘I believe so. They were a sociable and well liked family. Sit down. Unless I’ve an early delivery in the morning, I usually relax here for half an hour or so when I’ve finished for the day.’

Trevor sat in a comfortable chair that had been positioned to give a fine view of the river. When he turned his head, he found he also had a comprehensive view of the Pitchers’ yard. ‘You said you were in bed when you heard the Pitchers window explode?’

‘You’ve read my statement?’ Tim questioned.

‘I’ve glanced at most of the information that has come in.’

‘I was asleep. The explosion woke me. I ran to the window, saw the flames, dialled 999, dressed and went out. Frank Howell arrived in the yard a couple of minutes after me. I could barely see him for smoke. It was blinding. But not so blinding you couldn’t see the flames. The fire was blazing in the cellar, the kitchen and the two top floors where the family slept.’

‘Did you see the fire in the cellar from this window?’

‘I don’t think I looked past the flames shooting out of the kitchen window when I telephoned the emergency services. I certainly saw it when I reached the yard. I couldn’t miss it.’

‘Did you speak to Frank?’

‘We shouted at one another but I couldn’t hear him above the breaking glass and roaring fire. I wanted to do something but the truth is, even at that stage I think both Frank and I realized it was hopeless to attempt to get near the house. When the fire tender turned up a minute or two later the officers ordered us around to the front of the house. I was angry because I wanted to stay and help, but even as I argued with the officers I knew there was no way I could do anything the firemen couldn’t.’

‘From what the technicians said, the fire took hold quickly. The fact they were brought under control relatively swiftly was down to the calls you and Ken made.’

‘Little enough.’ Tim shrugged. ‘Frank and I went into Main Street hoping that Alun, Gill and the boys had escaped that way. Couple of minutes later Ken turned up.’ Tim gave a grim smile. ‘After reporting the fire, worried sick about Alun and the Pitcher family, he’d still remembered to pack his gear, bring his dog and his catch of fish. He had a plastic carrier bag full.’ Tim clenched his fist impotently. ‘What none of us knew at the time, was that it was already too bloody late. They were all probably dead.’

‘We won’t be sure until we get the PM reports. I’m sorry,’ he sympathised. ‘They appear to have been a nice family.’

Tim went to a drinks tray on the shelves. ‘They were. I never drink in the bar, seen too many good landlords become alcoholics that way. But I always have a nightcap back here. Join me?’

‘No, but thank you for the offer.’

‘You’re on duty?’

Trevor saw Tim watching him. He shook his head. ‘No. This is an informal chat.’

‘In that case, a small brandy won’t hurt you.’

‘As long as it’s a small one,’ Trevor replied. ‘I had one after dinner, and that coupled with what I drank with my meal is usually my limit before a busy day. And, tomorrow will be busy.’

‘The bodies were moved out of the house earlier weren’t they?’ Tim enquired.

‘Yes.’

‘The forensic teams expecting to finish soon?’ Tim handed Trevor a brandy a quarter of the size of one of Peter’s measures.

‘You’d have to ask them.’

‘I have. One of them mentioned he was hoping to check out at midday.’

‘Then you know more than me.’ Trevor changed the subject. ‘You said you sit here in the evening after you close the pub.’

‘When I’m not too tired.’

‘The night of the fire?’

‘No. After Ken left for the river I served one of the constables, Dai Smith, in the bar. He’d just come off shift, and wanted a pint and a chat about the nosy parker across the road.’

‘Mrs May Williams.’

‘You’ve done more than glance at my statement,’ Tim eyed Trevor with new respect.

‘How long did Constable Smith stay?’

‘Twenty minutes, maybe half an hour. I wasn’t watching the clock.’

‘Do many constables drop into the bar after their shift?’

‘Some do, some don’t. Dai and another constable had answered a call to check on May’s report of a disturbance. May heard Larry Jones shouting when I evicted him from the pub and phoned the police station to complain. Woman has nothing better to do than sit in her window overlooking Main Street day and night, and watch the comings and goings of everyone in town.’

‘You find her irritating?’

‘Very, especially when she telephones the police to complain about the noise my customers make when they leave. I think she’d like to see them tiptoe home in their socks. Not that it would make any difference to her whether they made a noise or not. Judging from the number of calls she makes to the police I don’t think she sleeps.’

‘What did you do after Constable Dai Smith left?’

‘Locked up, checked the doors and windows, came up here, opened the window and went straight to bed. Without looking at the view or having a nightcap.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Ten past one.’

‘You’re very sure,’ Trevor observed.

‘I set the alarm because I was expecting a delivery from the brewery at six. As it happened the driver had to turn back. After the fire the police closed off all access to Main Street and the back lane for two days.’

‘But you opened this window that night?’

‘Yes. When the Pitchers’ window exploded, the noise was shattering. I thought a bomb had gone off in the room.’

‘Did you see anyone in the Pitcher yard when you opened the window before you went to bed?’

‘I don’t think I looked in that direction,’ Tim said thoughtfully. ‘But I did see Ken’s dog racing around the riverbank. I remember the moon was so bright it was almost as clear as day.’

‘And Ken? Did you see him?’

‘No. But he always sits in a copse of trees to fish, so I wouldn’t have noticed him in the shadows. The dog was in the open field.’

‘You didn’t look in the direction of the Pitchers’ yard at all?’

Tim frowned with the effort of remembering. ‘I might have, but if I did nothing out of the ordinary registered.’

‘You sure?’

‘I’ve replayed every minute of that night in my mind a dozen times over and more, searching for clues as to who could have killed Alun and his family.’ He sipped his brandy. ‘I wish I’d dumped Larry Jones in the middle of the road when I’d had the chance, so a car could have turned him into jam. The Pitchers were nice people.’

‘So everyone says.’ Trevor left his chair and went to the window so he could take a closer look at the Pitchers’ yard. The smell of smoke and burning hadn’t lessened, just somehow grown colder and more unpleasant. Floodlights had been set up illuminating every corner and the two uniformed constables standing guard where the yard opened into the lane. Shadows moved behind the blinds in the mobile HQ parked behind the house.

‘Like most coppers, including me when I was in the Met, you have a problem with nice people, Inspector Joseph. It took retirement for me to realise they do exist.’

‘Were you in serious crimes?’

‘Drug Squad.’

‘I don’t have a problem with nice people, Mr Pryce. But when a rogue is murdered there’s always a list of enemies to work through. Process of elimination usually generates one or two leads worth investigating. My job is never easy but it’s impossible when I’ve nothing to work on.’

‘I see what you mean.’

Trevor turned his back to the yard leaned against the railings and faced Tim. ‘Alun Pitcher was a businessman. In my experience, businessmen make enemies.’

‘Not Alun,’ Tim said emphatically. ‘No one else in the town sells antiques or has an auction house so he had no competition, or money worries as he inherited the business debt free from his father. I recall him telling me once that his great-great-great grandfather came here from Carmarthen in the eighteenth century and opened a furniture and carpentry shop.’

‘Buying and selling antiques is a risky business. People who don’t know the difference between the genuine article and fakes can pay over the odds, and people who sell can be short-changed,’ Trevor argued.

‘Not by Alun. He was as honest as the day is long. If he knew the value of a piece, he’d buy it from you at book price less ten per cent handling and I never heard anyone complain about the ten per cent. When it came to house clearance, he preferred to put everything up for auction, sending out catalogues to buyers well in advance. People came from as far as Scotland and London for the larger auctions he organised. If anyone in the town wanted something in particular, he’d scout for it and try and get it at a fair price.’

‘What about the boys?’ Trevor asked.

‘Craftsmen every one and, hard working. Not that they didn’t play hard.’

Girlfriends?’ Trevor suggested.

‘The youngest Michael has been courting Alison Griffiths since they both went into the comprehensive when they were eleven. Nice girl, nice family. The older two, Lee and James changed their girls as often as they changed their socks.’

‘They were ladies’ men?’

‘The ladies loved them,’ Tim confirmed. ‘My barmaids fell over themselves to serve them every time one of them came into the pub.’

‘Please don’t take exception to this question. I’m looking for a motive for these murders. Did either of the Pitcher boys include married women or women in steady relationships among their girlfriends?’

‘If they did they wouldn’t have flaunted them in front me and everyone else in the pub.’

‘Point taken. You never heard rumours or gossip about any of the Pitcher boys or Alun – or Gillian?’

‘Alun and Gillian, never,’ Tim replied. ‘But one or two jealous types blamed Lee and James for the break up of their relationships. Lee came in once with a black eye. Pam said a disgruntled husband gave it to him but Lee never said who, and Pam never found out. Which means no one else in the town other than Lee and whoever gave it to him knew. A few months ago there was a rumour that Dai Smith’s wife…’

‘The constable who was here at midnight on the night of the fire?’ Trevor interrupted.

‘That’s the one. There was a rumour that Dai’s wife and Lee had an affair. I didn’t pay much attention to it and never saw any animosity between Lee and Dai. In fact they both drank together here, in the bar on dart match nights.’

‘Dai’s wife’s name?’

‘Marianne. She’s French and visiting her parents in Paris at the moment. But it’s a holiday. They have three-year-old twin girls Dai dotes on. I wish I hadn’t mentioned the rumour now. Given Dai and Lee’s behaviour towards one another there couldn’t have been anything other than the gossipmongers putting two and two together and making twenty-five.’

‘Other than the suggestion that Lee Pitcher had a wandering eye.’

‘Do you really think the Pitchers were killed by a jealous husband?’ Tim asked.

‘The beating Lee was subjected to was savage.’

‘A crime of passion as the French say.’

‘At this stage I’m not discounting anything. Thank you.’ Trevor finished his brandy and handed Tim the glass.

‘Inspector, I’m sorry I bit your head off at lunchtime. But Alun was a good friend as well as neighbour. I’m going to miss him.’

‘You known him long?’

‘Since I moved here six years ago.’

The words were trite and overused, but they were all Trevor had. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you.’

‘If you hear a noise outside, it will be me. I want to get a feel for the back lane and the Pitchers’ yard at night.’

‘Turn right at the bottom of the steps and you’ll see a wooden door. There’s a light operated by a sensor and a key code lock. Punch in 9876. The door leads directly into the back lane. From there it’s only a few steps to the yard. I hope you catch the bastards, Inspector.’

‘I’ll do my best, Mr Pryce. Goodnight.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘Don’t tell me you forgot your key, you silly bugger,’ Peter shouted when he heard a light tap on the cottage window. Heaving himself from the sofa, he went to the door and opened it.

‘Switch the light off, quick. Before someone sees me.’ Carol March slipped inside. She dropped the hood of her black sweater and the long blonde hair she’d worn in a knot while in uniform tumbled to her waist.

She was the last person Peter wanted to see. But when he saw her hair, he had to stop himself from reaching out and stroking it… it would have been easy… so easy…

He tightened his fists until his nails dug into the palms of his hands. ‘What do you want?’

‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’

‘Not to me.’

‘Come on, Petey, you know why I’m here.’

‘I don’t. And don’t call me Petey.’

‘Someone else calls you that now?’ she murmured huskily.

‘The people I’m acquainted with have more sense.’

‘Acquainted with? You only have acquaintances and colleagues,’ she probed. ‘No one closer.’