The Cold Hand of Malice (6 page)

‘And you’re probably right,’ Paget agreed, ‘but let’s make absolutely sure we don’t become too focused on the obvious.’

‘I hope you weren’t too upset when I reset the alarm this morning,’ said Grace as they carried their after-dinner coffee into the living room and sat down. ‘I know you hate to be late, but I couldn’t let you go stumbling out of here into the morning traffic with no more than a couple of hours of sleep.’

Paget smiled and shook his head. ‘It’s a good job you did reset it,’ he told her, ‘because I’d have probably slept till noon if you hadn’t. Anyway, my well-trained staff had everything under control by the time I got there, so there was no harm done. How was your day? I hear you spent it in the Holbrook house. Find anything I can use?’

It wasn’t exactly a rule, but they had both agreed early in their relationship that they should try to avoid talking shop at least until after dinner. Grace, who was very health-conscious and knew about these things, had made the point that it was bad for the digestion. Paget agreed, not so much because he was worried about his digestion, but because too much conversation during dinner allowed the food to go cold.

Grace wrinkled her nose. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘Once again we found a few strands of fibre mixed with dog hair, and a bit of dark fuzzy material that seemed to be out of place among the bedclothes, but that was about it. I don’t know who these people are, but they’re clever enough to avoid leaving clues behind them. Fingerprints all over the house, of course, but I’m willing to bet not one of them belongs to those two killers.

‘Charlie’s being a bit more enigmatic than usual, though,’ she continued. ‘He seems to think he’s found something odd about this particular burglary, and he wants me to see if it strikes me the same way, but I’m afraid, if it’s there at all, I haven’t seen it yet. It has something to do with a comparison of crime scenes, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for.’

‘He didn’t give you a clue?’

‘Not really. Just handed me copies of the reports from all the other crime scenes, and said, “see if anything strikes you as odd about them”. And that was it. I asked him again this afternoon if he could give me a bit more to go on, but he just smiled, you know the way he does, and said, “No. If it’s there I’m sure you’ll find it; if it’s not, then perhaps it’s my imagination after all.”’ Grace made a face. ‘I don’t know what he expects me to find, but one thing I have learned over the years, is that you don’t ignore one of Charlie’s gut feelings, so I shall go back there tomorrow and keep digging. Has he mentioned anything to you about it?’

‘No, but if there is anything there to be found, believe me, I wish you luck, because we are literally grasping at straws on this one.’

‘What about your day?’ Grace eyed him critically. ‘You seem a bit down, tonight.’

He shrugged and shook his head. ‘I’m not, really,’ he told her. ‘Just a bit frustrated. Tregalles and I have been going through everything we have but there is nothing we can get our teeth into. Holbrook’s friend, Trevor Ballantyne, came in to give his statement, but it was virtually a carbon copy of what he told us last night. I had hoped to talk to Simon Holbrook today, but his doctor wouldn’t allow him to come in until tomorrow.’

Grace eyed him curiously. ‘That’s not a problem, is it? I mean it’s not as if he’s a suspect, or if there’s any doubt about how Mrs Holbrook died – or is there?’

‘Not that I know of, but you know the old rule of thumb when dealing with a suspicious death: look first at relatives and friends. I have to make sure that every angle is checked, even though we are ninety-nine per cent sure that Mrs Holbrook was killed by the people who broke into their home.’

Grace looked thoughtful. ‘What does the autopsy show?’

‘Still waiting for the results. Starkie called to say that he won’t be able to do the autopsy until tomorrow morning. However, we did manage to get a commitment from Holbrook to meet Tregalles at the house tomorrow so they can go through the place together to find out exactly what, if anything, is missing.’

‘What time?’ Grace asked.

‘That they’re meeting? Nine o’clock. Why?’

‘Because I think I’d like to go through the place with them,’ Grace told him. ‘Unless you have any objections, of course?’

‘No, no, none at all,’ he told her. ‘I’ll let Tregalles know in the morning.’

Six

Friday, March 6

Grace Lovett was already there, standing beside the wrought iron gate, when Tregalles pulled up in front of Holbrook’s house in Pembroke Avenue at five minutes to nine, but there was no sign of Holbrook.

‘Morning, Grace,’ he greeted her, nodding toward the house. ‘Is Holbrook inside?’

She shook her head. ‘Haven’t seen him, but it’s not quite nine; I expect he’ll be here soon.’

‘Beautiful morning,’ he observed, raising his face to the morning sun, stretching, and settled his back against the car. ‘I wouldn’t mind living here – except I doubt if I could afford the rates, let alone the price. Holbrook’s firm must be doing all right.’

‘It is,’ Grace told him. ‘We looked it up yesterday, and it’s one of the fastest growing small businesses in the area.’

Pembroke Avenue was a pleasant little backwater. The houses were set back from the street, separated by fences, walls and hedges high enough to ensure privacy – and high enough to shield the activities of anyone trying to break in, thought Tregalles. Which might be why so many of the houses, including Holbrook’s, had home security logos in their windows. Not that it had done Mrs Holbrook any good.

He pushed himself away from the car to join Grace. ‘That’s Holbrook,’ he said, indicating a man who had just emerged from the driveway of a house three doors down. ‘He’s been staying with the Ballantynes.’

He leaned closer to Grace and lowered his voice as Holbrook approached. ‘Looks a bit drawn,’ he said critically, ‘but you still wouldn’t think he’s over forty, would you? Looks more like one of these young blokes you see in the magazines, surrounded by birds in bikinis.’

It was true, Grace thought. She’d seen the man’s picture in the newspapers from time to time, but this was the first time she had seen him in the flesh.

‘Good morning, sir,’ Tregalles said as Holbrook came up to them. His face was pale, but he looked considerably better than when Tregalles had last seen him.

‘Good morning, Sergeant,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I don’t know if you realize how painful this is for me, but I suppose it has to be done. I hope it won’t take too long.’ His words were for Tregalles, but his eyes kept flicking to Grace.

‘We do understand, sir,’ Tregalles assured him, ‘and we’ll try not to keep you any longer than necessary. I don’t think you’ve met Ms Lovett. She is a Scenes of Crime officer, and she will be going round with us.’

Holbrook’s face underwent a subtle change as his eyes swept over Grace in a fleeting yet all-encompassing glance. He flipped a stray lock of hair away from his eyes with a practised gesture, extended his hand and said, ‘This
is
an unexpected pleasure, Ms Lovett.’

His handshake was firm, and Grace felt her eyes being held by his own, and there was something subtly appealing about the look he gave her before releasing her hand. ‘Mr Holbrook,’ she said formally.

His eyes never wavered. ‘Simon,’ he said softly. ‘I much prefer Simon, Ms Lovett.’

She smiled pleasantly.
Was it her imagination, or was Simon Holbrook coming on to her?

‘Shall we get on then, sir?’ Tregalles said brusquely, stepping between them to lead the way up the path to the house.

A uniformed constable opened the door as they mounted the front steps, and Holbrook looked surprised. ‘I didn’t realize there was still someone in here,’ he said as he stepped inside.

‘It is still a crime scene,’ Tregalles reminded him, ‘so we don’t want anything disturbed until everyone is finished here.’

‘Yes, I see that,’ Holbrook said, ‘but I must say I’m not sure what it is you want from me. I told you what I could the other night.’

‘About . . . about what happened, yes,’ Tregalles agreed, ‘but what I would like you to do now is walk through the house with me and tell me, as best you can, what, if anything was taken, and if you see anything significant about the damage.’

‘What was
taken,
_Sergeant?’ Holbrook’s voice rose. ‘Do you honestly think I give a damn about what was taken, compared to what they did to my wife? And what do you expect me to see that’s “significant” about the damage?’

‘It’s a matter of what we might be able to trace,’ Tregalles said patiently. ‘We need to circulate a list of everything that was stolen as soon as possible in case whoever did this tries to sell it. As for the damage, I’d like to know if you can see any pattern to it. For example: does it appear that specific items were chosen, items that perhaps meant more to you than others. I would also like to know who would have known the house would be empty Wednesday evening – or would have been empty if there hadn’t been a last-minute change of plan.’

Holbrook shrugged. ‘Almost anyone,’ he said. ‘It’s been a bit of a ritual throughout the winter: Tuesday night badminton; Wednesday night a film. Not every Wednesday, you understand, because we sometimes have other commitments, but we go if we can.’ His voice dropped. ‘I should have stayed with her,’ he said hollowly, ‘but . . .’ He raised his hands then let them fall to his side in a gesture of helplessness. ‘But who would think that something like this could happen?’ he ended huskily. ‘If it hadn’t been for that damned migraine . . .’

‘Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted to do you or your wife harm?’ Tregalles asked. ‘Anyone with whom you’ve had a falling out? Someone at work, perhaps? A disgruntled employee; someone with a grudge against you or your wife?’

Tregalles might have been mistaken, but it seemed to him that Holbrook hesitated for just a fraction of a second before shaking his head. ‘We’re like a family at work,’ he said. ‘There’s been no trouble there. As for someone with a grudge, I can’t think of anyone. But I don’t see why you are asking questions like that, when this is obviously the work of that bunch of vandals who have been terrorizing people all over town. In fact, to be blunt, Sergeant, the more I think about it, the more I feel that my wife would be alive today if the police had done their job.’

‘Believe me, Mr Holbrook, I can appreciate the way you feel,’ Tregalles told him, ‘but I’m afraid it isn’t quite as simple as that. The truth of the matter is we have put a great deal of effort into trying to track them down, but these people have so far avoided leaving anything in the way of clues behind them. Ms Lovett can testify to that.’

‘I’m sure she can,’ Holbrook snapped, then modified his tone as he looked at Grace. ‘No disrespect, Ms Lovett; I’m sure you know your job, but from what I’ve read, criminals always leave some clues behind, no matter how careful they try to be. Haven’t you found
anything?
’

His look was so appealing that Grace couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man. ‘I’m afraid not, Mr Holbrook,’ she said, ‘which is why it is so important that you tell us what you can as we go through the house.’

Holbrook didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t say anything as they began the tour of the rooms. Tregalles couldn’t take to the man, but he could hardly blame him for feeling as he did. He would probably feel the same if their situations were reversed.

They trailed Holbrook from room to room. He stopped every now and then to examine something and shake his head. ‘Nothing missing from here as far as I can tell,’ he would say, and move on. ‘As for the damage, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but it seems pretty random to me.’

‘I see you have a safe in your desk, Mr Holbrook,’ Grace said when they came to the study. ‘We don’t think it’s been opened, although it does look as if someone has had a go at the dial.’ She pointed to scratch marks around it. ‘Everything has been dusted for prints, so you can go ahead and open it.’

Holbrook squatted down before the safe, shielding it from them as he twirled the dial. The small door swung open; he reached inside and took out an old-fashioned cash box.

‘There should be something like seven or eight hundred pounds in here,’ he said, opening the lid to reveal a wad of notes held together by an elastic band. He riffled through them slowly, then closed the lid. ‘Looks like it’s all here,’ he said.

‘Do you keep anything else of value in there?’ Tregalles asked.

‘Nothing that would be worth anything to anyone else,’ Holbrook said. ‘Personal stuff for the most part. Passports, birth certificates, that sort of thing.’ He sorted through the documents, then put the cash box back and closed the door. ‘It’s all there,’ he declared as he stood up again.

Grace eyed the papers strewn about the floor. ‘Could they have been looking for something specific, perhaps to do with your business?’ she asked. ‘I understand that some of your designs are unique in the field of laser micro-technology.’

Holbrook looked at Grace with renewed interest. ‘You
have
been doing you homework,’ he said approvingly. ‘But, no. We do have competitors, of course, but there is nothing here to interest them, and I’m sure they know that. It might have been a different story if this had happened at the lab, but we’re well protected there.’

‘Speaking of protection,’ Grace said carefully, ‘I see you have quite a good home security system here, and yet apparently the alarm didn’t go off when the thieves broke in. Did you set it before you left on Wednesday night?’

Holbrook shrugged guiltily. ‘If only I had,’ he said with feeling. ‘Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the point when one of us was in the house.’

‘We found your wife’s handbag open on the floor beneath the table at the bottom of the stairs,’ Grace said when they came back to the front hall. ‘They left her credit cards, but there was no money. Should there have been?’

Holbrook nodded. ‘Laura didn’t carry much cash, but she would have had something like thirty or forty pounds with her.’

‘I see. Shall we go upstairs and see what . . .’