The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural (10 page)

‘You're probably right. When they've finished they'd better ring in for further instructions.'

At first sight it was difficult to believe that Luke Grayson was related to Romeo. He had clean cut, almost patrician features, thick brown hair flecked with grey brushed back from a high forehead and steady blue eyes. When Vicky and Sukey had introduced themselves and sat down opposite him in the interview room he took a colour photograph from his pocket and passed it to them. It was evidently a family snapshot of a middle-aged man with three teenage boys, two of whom bore a strong resemblance to him. A stranger might have supposed the third to be a family friend, as his heavier build, piercing dark eyes, swarthy colouring and mass of unruly black hair were in striking contrast to the conventional appearance of the others.

‘The one who looks like me is my elder brother Mark,' said Grayson. ‘I'm in the middle and the one on my left – the one you know as Romeo – is our younger brother John. There were four of us to begin with but Matthew died when he was just a few weeks old. None of us ever knew him. Our parents were committed Christians – hence the choice of names.'

‘Your mother isn't in the picture,' said Vicky. ‘Perhaps she was taking it?'

‘No, she died when John was ten. I have her picture here.' He passed another photograph across the table.

‘Well, you and Mark obviously resemble your father,' said Sukey, ‘but I can't see any resemblance in John to either of your parents.'

‘I should explain that our mother was Hungarian,' said Grayson. ‘Our father was in the diplomatic service and she worked as a translator and interpreter in the British embassy in Budapest. They fell in love and when Dad returned to England they married and, as I said, had four sons.' There was a silence, after which Grayson took a deep breath and said, ‘When John arrived, and was so utterly different in appearance from us, I can remember overhearing snatches of conversation between them. Mum kept saying “Please, you must believe me” and Dad saying “I want to believe you … I do believe you … I love you.” I guess he couldn't bear to think that Mum had been unfaithful to him – and as things turned out, it was proved she hadn't. She was a good woman and a devoted wife and mother. Anyway Dad did some research into her ancestry. He discovered that two or three generations ago one of her ancestors had married a Romany gypsy and that explained it – John was a throwback. They brought him up in exactly the same way as they brought up Mark and me, but from childhood it was obvious he was going to be different in more than just appearance. He simply couldn't fit in to our conventional lifestyle; he bunked off school, looked down on us for liking pop music, saved his pocket money to buy classical music CDs and spent hours in his room listening to them. The only way in which he would conform was coming to church on Sunday, because our church was well known for its music. The quality of his voice from an early age was remarkable and he was a member of the choir – often singing solos – until his voice broke. By this time Dad had accepted that he was never going to settle down to a nine-to-five existence and offered to pay for him to have his voice professionally trained, but he would have none of it. I suppose he just relied on the training he'd had at church – our choir master had a fine tenor voice himself – and listening carefully to his recordings of top singers. After a couple of years or so he became the very fine singer you have heard and earned some sort of a living at, well, busking. Mark and I were getting on with our own lives and simply accepted things as they were, but Dad has never really been able to.'

‘Is your father still alive?'

‘Oh yes. He's getting on a bit now but he's still pretty good for his age.'

‘Does he know about the accident?'

‘Not yet. I spoke to Mark after I got to the morgue and was told I couldn't see John's body because they couldn't get him out of the van. Reading between the lines I had the impression that his face is pretty badly smashed up – is that true?'

‘There's too much blood about to be able to see him clearly,' said Sukey diplomatically. ‘It makes sense to wait until they've cleaned him up.'

Grayson nodded. ‘I'm sure you're right. Anyway, Mark and I agreed not to say anything to Dad until …'

‘You want to be able to tell him exactly what happened,' said Sukey. ‘That's quite understandable. And as I think you've already been told, we won't know the answer to that question until we're further on with our enquiries.'

‘Has Romeo – John, I mean – been keeping in touch with you?' asked Vicky.

‘Oh yes, he calls us regularly on his mobile. We all live in London and if he happens to be anywhere near he makes a point of coming to see us. He puts on a fake Cockney-style accent to fit in with the image he's built for himself, but he knows it upsets Dad so he drops it when he comes home.'

‘Does he come in his van?'

Grayson gave a rueful half smile. ‘Oh yes, much to our embarrassment. He arrives after dark and parks it on the drive at whichever house he's visiting. We were all horrified the first time he turned up in it. Dad wanted to buy him a car and live at home, which he refused because he preferred living like a vagrant, so then the three of us offered to club together for a better quality van. He wouldn't accept anything from us – said he could cope on his own.'

‘Which as you say he's been doing by busking,' said Sukey. ‘We've learned that from Justin Freeman, who organized the musical event that Romeo – John, that is – has just been to. Did you know about that?'

‘Oh yes, he's always kept us up to date with his movements,' said Grayson. ‘We know about Freeman, of course, although we've never had occasion to contact him ourselves. John did, however, say something about this particular booking that Mark and I have agreed you should know. Mark is in Germany on business at the moment, by the way, but he'll be back on Wednesday.'

‘Please go on,' said Vicky. ‘John said something that you think might be significant?'

‘Yes. He's mentioned a man called Rainbird who comes to Freeman's events and seems to have really got up his nose.'

‘Yes, he told us about Rainbird and how he'd said something derogatory about his voice that made him very angry. What else has he said to you?'

‘He rang me on Saturday morning and said he'd arrived at his latest venue and he sounded really chuffed. He said, “It looks like the bugger's bitten off more than he can chew and I might make something out of it.” I asked him what he meant and he said he'd talk to me when he knew a bit more. That was the last time we spoke. When they told me what had happened to him … and his van … and how badly …' For the first time, Grayson appeared overcome with emotion; his voice failed and he covered his eyes with both hands. ‘I can't tell you what a dreadful shock it's been,' he said when he had regained his self control. ‘He was my brother and I loved him very much. We all loved him – for all his odd ways he was a good, kind man.'

‘I think we all had that impression of him,' said Sukey. ‘When he spoke to you on Saturday, did he explain who he was talking about and what he meant by “might make something out of it”?'

‘No. All he would say was he'd tell me later. Although he didn't say who “the bugger” was I had a feeling it was Rainbird. Have you any idea who it might have been?'

‘You didn't know that Rainbird was found drowned in the lake in the hotel grounds on Friday evening?'

Grayson's jaw dropped. ‘Good heavens! No!' he exclaimed, evidently shocked at the news. ‘Whatever happened?'

‘We don't know yet,' said Vicky, ‘but for the moment we're concentrating on the accident to your brother. We – DC Reynolds and I – spoke to him on Saturday morning. We found him in a lay-by a short distance from the hotel. He told us he'd arrived that morning, but we have reason to believe he arrived some time on Friday evening, so after his recital we went along to the lay-by to have a further word with him. We were surprised to find that he had already gone. Did you by any chance hear from him after about five o'clock on Saturday afternoon?'

Grayson shook his head. ‘No, and I wasn't expecting to. What made you think he was, well, not speaking the truth about the time of his arrival? Could he have made a mistake?'

Sukey explained about the overnight rain and the state of the ground under Romeo's van on Saturday morning. ‘We wondered why he was in such a hurry to get away, although it might have been because the light was fading and he didn't like driving in the dark. Freeman didn't know where he was going next and his mobile was switched off. The next thing we knew was that there had been this dreadful accident and we won't know how it happened until the van has been righted and your brother's body brought out. So far no other witnesses have come forward.'

There was a short silence while Grayson appeared to be mulling over what Sukey had told him. ‘Perhaps,' he said, ‘that by saying that Rainbird seemed to have bitten off more than he could chew John meant that he was dead. But I've no idea what he could have meant by “making something out of it” – unless he saw a chance to make some money. And that would mean he saw what happened to Rainbird and that someone else … my God!' he exclaimed. ‘Is it possible that Rainbird was murdered and that John saw what had happened and was planning to …?' He broke off as if the word that came to mind was too repugnant to associate with a beloved brother.

‘You think he might have been planning a spot of blackmail?' said Vicky.

‘It's an ugly word, and I hate the thought of my brother stooping so low,' said Grayson. ‘It isn't as if he was in need of money – as I've explained, we've all offered to support him and he's always refused any financial help.'

‘Well thank you very much, Mr Grayson,' said Vicky. ‘You've certainly opened up another possible line of enquiry for us.'

‘You'll let me know as soon as I can see my brother?'

‘Of course; in any case we shall need you or someone else from your family to identify him. Are you planning to go home now or stay somewhere local?'

‘I'm going straight home. Dad will start asking questions if I'm not there at the usual time this evening.'

‘Is he on his own during the day?'

‘Yes, except for the “Meals on Wheels” people who bring his lunch. He doesn't venture out on his own, but he has one or two friends who take him to the pub or call in and sit with him.' Grayson sighed heavily. ‘John's death is going to hit him very hard.'

As soon as he had left, the two detectives returned to the CID office, where they were told that Rathbone wanted to see them immediately. He listened carefully while they reported on the interview with Grayson and made notes on his pad. ‘It's beginning to look as if there was a fatal attack on Rainbird,' he said. ‘If this Romeo chap spoke to the attacker in the hope of getting some hush money out of him it's a classic motive for murder, which would suggest that the brake fluid pipe was deliberately disconnected. But if Romeo lost control of the van for another reason it could have come off in the accident, so we still have to wait for the tests to be complete. Meanwhile, we've received another piece of the jigsaw. A colleague of Rainbird has come forward, saying he has something to tell us that might shed some light on his death.'

‘H
is name is Morgan Ashman and he's a senior partner in Ashman, Lee and Edwards, an old-established firm of accountants,' said Rathbone. ‘Their head office is in the City of London and Lance Rainbird has been working for them for the past five years. According to Ashman, he was made redundant from a previous job and was lucky enough to be taken on by his firm.'

‘Presumably he lives in London,' said Vicky. ‘Do you want one of us to go and see him?'

‘He's planning to come here tomorrow,' said Rathbone. ‘He wants to see exactly where Rainbird died. He wouldn't say why – said he'll explain when he gets here.' He sat back in his chair and chewed the end of his pen. ‘Nothing in this case seems to make sense,' he grumbled. ‘I think we might as well call it a day. There's nothing more we can do until we've spoken to Ashman. I'll send word to Mike and Tim and I'll see all of you tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp.'

‘Well, the plot isn't so much thickening as curdling,' said Vicky as, after saying goodbye to Rathbone, she and Sukey went down to the car park.

‘If Romeo saw something, my guess is that it was Rainbird being attacked,' said Sukey. ‘Logic would suggest that he recognized the attacker and thought he might make something out of it.'

‘Except that we don't know yet whether Rainbird was attacked or whether he fell into the lake by accident,' Vicky pointed out. ‘We won't know that until we get the result of the PM.'

‘But it does appear that there was someone else by the lake at the same time,' said Sukey. ‘Eric claims to have seen them. He was pretty cagey and he seemed a bit uneasy when we warned him of possible danger, but he still didn't tell us anything useful. He claims he didn't recognize the person he saw talking to Rainbird, but he might have been lying – perhaps he too thought he might pick up some hush money.'

‘Well, he's a fool if that's what his game is,' said Vicky. ‘It already looks as if we may have a second murder. And don't forget this event has got until Tuesday morning to run. Time for at least one more death!' she added with a sardonic chuckle as she got into her car and clipped on her seat belt.

‘Heaven forbid!' said Sukey.

Vicky rolled down her window and waved. ‘See you in the morning! I'm looking forward to a cosy evening with Chris.'

‘Enjoy!' said Sukey. She switched on her phone. ‘I'll see what Harry's doing.'