The Sixth Estate (The Craig Crime Series) (34 page)

Craig was still thinking so John answered. “No time, not enough concrete, or the killer didn’t hate her as much as he did her husband?”

Mike shook his head and John frowned. Mike had only told him about the concrete fissures in the husband’s throat so why were they re-examining Diana Bwye?

“No. Well, yes and no. The concrete would have dried in the van in the same time it took Bwye’s to dry, so I don’t think time was a factor. I agree the killer didn’t hate her as much, but that’s irrelevant either way.”

“You’re being annoying, Mike.”

Craig cut in. “No, I think he’s onto something.” He waved Augustus on.

“OK, let’s say that the killer’s main target was Oliver Bwye. He needed to disable him quickly because he was a big man, so he killed him in the way I said. But he didn’t expect Diana Bwye to be there; Annette says she normally went to a committee meeting that night.”

Craig smiled. It was the first time he’d mentioned Annette, even though they’d been seeing each other for months. Augustus saw his smile and blushed.

“OK, so if Diana Bwye wasn’t supposed to be there, she became an unexpected problem to be dealt with. Perhaps she screamed, so they shot her to shut her up and accidentally killed her, or perhaps they’d already decided to kill any witnesses before they arrived…”

John interjected. “Which means that they weren’t masked.”

“OK, yes, let’s say that they weren’t masked. OK, so they disable and kill Bwye and then Diana appears. They shoot her in the leg to shut her up and put her in the van, but either they don’t have enough concrete to cover her…”

Craig was getting confused. “Not even enough to suffocate her?”

Augustus smiled. “Exactly! That’s my point. They could have suffocated her easily by pouring concrete down her throat, just by using a little less concrete on Bwye’s torso. So why
not
kill her that way? Why risk a second shot that might have been heard by the staff?”

“Because they knew her and liked her?”

“How about instead of like we put love? How about this is someone who cared so much about her that they couldn’t bear to watch her suffocate, or to erase her identity by covering her face?”

John snorted rudely. “What, so they shot her through the chest? Very romantic.”

Craig waved his scepticism down; Mike’s theory fitted with where his thoughts were heading. But he still needed one question answered. He nodded at Diana Bwye’s body.

“She definitely died from the second shot through her chest, not strangulation from the ligature. Yes?”

Augustus nodded. “Yes. The ligature mark was left for distraction. The gun barrel was actually held against her chest. There were scorch marks on her blouse and skin.”

Craig walked to the head of the trolley and gazed down at the dead woman. After a full minute’s silence John had to ask.

“What are you thinking, Marc?”

Craig shook his head, working furiously through possible scenarios. He wasn’t certain enough of anything yet to confide it, but he needed to ask a question.

“Mike, is there any way that she could have shot herself?”

The two doctors stared at him, stunned, then they scrutinised the body frantically. John drew back the sheet to reveal Diana Bwye’s scorched and bruised chest and examined her arms and hands, while Mike examined her gunshots; then they covered their victim and both took a step back. Mike spoke first.

“Her arms are certainly long enough…”

Craig urged him on. “She could have propped the rifle against a wall and reached the trigger. It would have left the same wounds but…”

John shook his head. “There was no GSR on her hands.”

Craig pressed his case. “Gloves, or could the water have washed it away? She was submerged in that lake for days and she wasn’t encased like her husband.”

Mike shook his head in disbelief. “I suppose…it’s possible, but why would she have killed herself? Surely with Bwye dead she would have had even more reason to live?”

Craig shook his head. “Motive’s a different thing; I haven’t got there yet. I just need to know if it could have played out that way.”

John led the way back to the office and they resumed the conversation.

“So you’re saying that she killed her husband and then killed herself?”

Craig shrugged. “I’m not saying anything yet. We still have suspects to rule out. I just needed to know if it was physically possible and you’ve said that it is.”

Mike shook his head, still not sold on Craig’s idea. He favoured a professional hit.

“Forensics found some blood on the boat, but still nowhere near enough, although I suppose the van…”

John followed through on Craig’s suicide scenario. “It still doesn’t negate the need for a third person, even if they just helped by dumping the bodies in the lake. Diana couldn’t have dumped her husband by herself.”

Craig nodded. “The third person could have been purely a disposal man. Someone who loved her, which by the sounds of it was a pretty large group; she was a popular lady. Their job was to arrange a cover-up to protect the people left behind. Maybe that’s what the ligature mark around her neck was about, although if so, that was overkill.”

John nodded. “An amateur. Chucking in evidence to try and throw you off the track.”

“Not that amateur. It’s worked for ten days.”

Mike looked stunned. “So you’re saying that this was a murder suicide by Mrs Bwye, with an elaborate cover-up to protect her daughter? If it was then it’s succeeded. There’s no way that we can tell Jane definitively that her mother was responsible for this mess.”

Craig shrugged. “It’s all just speculation at the moment. They could still both have been murdered and the reason the killer didn’t cover Diana’s face was because he ran out of materials or time, or he had some last minute remorse because she wasn’t the originally intended victim. And we still have the possibility that Bwye organised a hit on himself for the K&R money, although it sounds a bit altruistic for him, from what I’ve heard.”

John shook his head sadly. “This third person must have cared a lot for her to risk prison.”

Mike stared wistfully into space. “I would do it for Annette.”

Craig smiled. “Good to know. I’ll make sure to tell her that you’d be happy to kill her when I get back.”

Augustus blushed deep red. “I didn’t…ach, you know what I meant. The whole thing’s quite romantic. Almost Shakespearean.”

“Except in Shakespeare’s version the lover would have topped himself as well.”

Craig’s eyes suddenly widened and he pulled out his phone. It seemed like an age until it was answered and, when it was, Joshua Kelly’s quiet voice came on the line. The detective hung up without speaking and slumped back, relieved. John squinted at him curiously.

“I take it Romeo and Juliet isn’t today’s show?”

Craig shook his head. “Just another hunch that could be nothing. Like I said, we still have suspects to rule out.”

John muttered something to himself and Mike asked him to repeat it.

“I said; just remember that Romeo doesn’t die until the end of the play.”

Chapter Nin
eteen

A call to Joshua Kelly on the way back to Rocksbury confirmed the estate’s female inheritance line and the fact that Jane had never been told. There were a few more gaps to fill in then they would have as complete a picture of the crime as Craig believed they ever would.

The briefing started slowly, punctuated by more yawns than a university lecture. Davy was the liveliest one in the room. In fact, he looked positively excited so Craig waved him on to start.

“I’ve more info on Ray Mercer and the van.”

His words were drowned out by a particularly loud yawn from Liam. As he tried to continue they were obscured again by two size thirteen feet banging onto the desk. Craig rolled his eyes.

“What did you say, Davy?”

“I s…said that no forensic evidence s…survived from the van but there was enough left of the doorpost to find the VIN number. It was registered to The Chronicle. It w…was adapted with a hydraulic lift and hoist, for deliveries and w…waste paper disposal.”

Andy glanced up from his hot drink. “Didn’t someone say that Diana Bwye went to see Mercer recently? What if she went to ask for the loan of the van?”

Davy answered him. “I’ve been trying to find out w…why she saw him, but no-one at the paper seems to know.”

Craig sipped his coffee for a moment before commenting. When he did it was in an exhausted voice, more because of what he had to say than his physical tiredness.

“Mercer knows why she visited him, but how the hell do we get him to tell us? I can’t see him cooperating now that we’ve cost him his job.”

Liam sniffed. “He wouldn’t have cooperated anyway. He’s a belligerent sod. Anyway, why bother with him when odds are his lackey Bill Reynolds will know?”

Craig sat up straight. “Liam, you’re a genius.” He continued as Liam acknowledged the truism with a smug smile. “Annette, call Jake and tell him to get Bill Reynolds into High Street. Cuffs, cell, the works; put the fear of God into him. Obstructing a police investigation or something like that. When he’s stewed for a while, he’ll tell us why Mrs Bwye saw Mercer.” He turned back to Davy. “Davy, ask Maggie to see if Rory Cahill knows anything as well. He keeps his ear to the ground.” He relaxed back in his chair. “By the way, did the tyres match?”

“Slash and all. It’s definitely the van that was here that night. W…We’re dealing with a novice, burning it out so close to the crime scene.”

Or someone paid to act like one. Craig shook his head; more pieces that didn’t fit. Annette thought of something.

“Was anyone seen on CCTV, near the van or getting into a car?”

“Plenty of images of someone near the van wearing jeans and a hoody, but they kept their face turned away from the cameras the w…whole time. The most we can s…say is that it was a man, around six feet tall and slim build.”

Liam went to ask a question.

“Before you ask, yes, they had a car w…waiting about a mile overland but they’d taped over the number plate and the cameras lost them once they hit the back roads. All we’ve got is a Ford of some description.”

Julia summed up the situation in six words.

“Ford car and average man; ubiquitous.”

Craig nodded. She was right and his guess was that their averageness had been a deliberate choice. Whoever had ended the Bwyes’ lives, or aided them to do it themselves, was being protected by their ordinariness. The description fitted Joshua Kelly, but it also fitted half the men in the room. He changed the subject.

“You said you had something on Mercer?”

Davy grinned. He’d never met Ray Mercer but he disliked him on Maggie’s behalf. “We’ve got him on a street camera entering the drop s…site. The guy behind the café counter seemed to know him, so it should be easy to check.”

Finally some good news. “Excellent work, Davy. Carmen, contact the café and follow up on that.” He paused, running through the outstanding issues in his head. “What about the names on Lawton’s list? Anyone in their families stand out?”

A shake of Davy’s head answered him. “S…Sorry, chief. I dug into the relatives of all seven, living and dead; kids, cousins, in-laws, but there’s no-one jumping out. And without a print or DNA to go on…”

“You could be there all year.”

Craig was mulling over whether to tell them his theory about murder suicide when the desk phone rang. It was Des. He got straight to the point.

“There was a print on the gun that wasn’t Oliver Bwye’s.”

“Des, you’re a genius.”

“Well yes, I am actually. It was hell to find. On the side of the magazine. They must have left it when they loaded it.”

“Name?”

“I’m running it against every print we have. You’ll have your answer in about an hour.”

Craig was pretty sure whose it would be; Diana Bwye’s. It was the only scenario that made sense. OK, it could have been the avenging relative of someone whom Bwye had wronged, but how could they have got access to copy the keys to the gun cabinet and the rear study door? And surely they would have worn a mask and gloves, so why the need to kill Diana Bwye when she could simply have been left tied up?

Bwye couldn’t have killed himself, and anyone he’d hired wouldn’t have killed his wife unless they’d been contracted to; contract killers only did what they were paid for, no more. The young lovers definitely hadn’t done it, he was convinced of that, and he couldn’t picture Joshua Kelly shooting the woman he loved.

He decided to outline his murder suicide theory to the group, but instead of the gasps of disbelief he’d expected he was merely greeted with blank looks. Annette and Julia asked the question together, the one he still didn’t have the answer to.

“But why?”

Annette continued. “Oliver Bwye would have been dead in months anyway so why would Diana have sacrificed herself?”

Craig countered with another question. “Did she know that he was dying? Do we have any records of her attending GP or hospital appointments with him, or of her being told?”

“I…”

“It’s something we need an answer to. Annette, get onto Bwye’s consultant now. Andy, you get back to the GP. And someone ask Jane if she or her mother knew he was terminal.”

While they made the calls, Julia asked the question again.

“Why? Even if she didn’t know he was dying, why kill him now, all of a sudden?”

“His violence had been escalating in the past two months; perhaps she was afraid that he would harm Jane.”

“So why kill herself?”

Craig thought for a moment. He was just about to share what he’d learned about Diana Bwye’s attitude to marriage, when Liam interjected thoughtfully.

“Has anyone noticed anything about this house? I mean apart from the weird windows out the front.”

Everyone looked puzzled, then Gerry ventured a design viewpoint. “She liked neutral colours?”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean the décor, although thanks for that. I meant the religious stuff. There’s a bible or framed religious tract in every room and their bedroom was like a monk’s cell.”

It coincided with what Kelly had said so Craig nodded him on.

“You’re a bunch of heathens, and I mean that in a completely non-sectarian way before anyone gets on their green or orange high horse, and most of you probably wouldn’t know a bible if one bit you. But I’m telling you that someone in this house was seriously religious and I’m guessing that it wasn’t old man Bwye or the girl.”

“What’s your point, Liam?”

“My point is if Diana Bwye was that religious she would have felt as guilty as hell about everything. About marrying a man who was unfaithful and went to escorts, a man who hurt people during his career, not to mention that he hit her kid.”

Julia chipped in. “And her.”

Liam shook his head. “That wouldn’t have mattered to her as much as him hitting Jane. If I’m right we’re talking serious self-sacrifice here and people like that offer their suffering up to God. But when Bwye hurt
other
people, she would have blamed herself for his actions one hundred per cent.”

Julia was confused. “Not blamed him?”

“Well, yes, in a way, but even then she would have seen his deeds as evidence of
her
failure to help him be a better man. Religion 101; take the blame for everything. Trust me; I grew up around people like that, Catholic and Protestant. Northern Ireland’s falling down with them, and if Diana Bwye was that religious she might have seen her failing marriage and his violence as her fault, and maybe she just couldn’t stand it when she saw him getting worse.” He sniffed and folded his hands on his paunch like a priest. “Here endeth the sermon.”

Craig glanced round the group. Carmen and Gerry were both nodding.

“You agree?”

They answered in unison. “Yes.”

Gerry continued. “I’ve met people like that. They take on the worries of the world.”

“OK. So why not ask Bwye to leave?”

Gerry shook his head. “She would never have divorced him. Till death do us part.”

“Separation?”

“Nearly as bad. You’re damned.”

Carmen shrugged. “Or maybe she asked him to leave and he wouldn’t. Maybe he threatened to take her through the courts and go for the estate.”

Liam nodded. “Good point. You’ve another source of guilt right there; Jane would have lost her inheritance.”

Just then Annette finished her call. “Bwye never brought his wife to his hospital appointments and the consultant says he forbade them to inform her or Jane.”

A moment later Andy came back with the same answer.

Diana Bwye hadn’t known that her husband was dying and that Jane’s torment had an expiry date. All she’d seen was an increasingly violent man who was making her daughter’s life hell.

Craig decided to play devil’s advocate. “OK, why couldn’t she have killed Bwye and continued living? She could have done good works as penance.”

Liam tutted slowly. “You’re missing the point, boss. She felt guilty about
everything
. She could never have lived with the guilt of murdering him, and she wouldn’t have believed that she deserved to live. If she killed Bwye she had to kill herself as well.”

It was a brand of religion that Craig knew nothing about. He was from a mixed marriage and was agnostic himself, but even his devout Italian family didn’t practice their religion in such a punitive way; their version of Catholicism included more festivals than guilt. But Diana Bwye was strictly observant and if Liam was right it fitted with what Joshua Kelly had said.

He thought for a moment. They had to wait for Des to call back with the print confirmation and for Jake to interview Bill Reynolds so there was only one more thing he could think to do. He picked up the phone and called the solicitor again.

“Mr Kelly, do you hold any documents belonging to Diana Bwye?”

Joshua Kelly stared nervously at the phone, uncertain how to answer. He’d felt interrogated when Craig had been there earlier and he felt the same way now. He summoned all his law school training and endeavoured to keep his voice calm.

“I hold her Will, but I’ve already disclosed its contents to your analyst.”

Craig paused deliberately, to make the solicitor anxious. He wanted to see what more came out. When he sensed Kelly wondering if he’d cut the call he spoke again, watched by his curious team.

“I didn’t mean her Will, Mr Kelly. What else did she give you to hold?”

It was a bluff and Craig knew it, but it was a bluff he was prepared to lay money on. There was a silence at both ends like some aural staring contest, until finally Kelly blinked first and sighed.

“She gave me a sealed envelope two weeks ago, with instructions never to open it unless I was forced to.”

“Consider this being forced. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

****

Thirty minutes later Craig and Liam were seated at Joshua Kelly’s desk, staring at an envelope sealed with red wax. Liam gestured at the image embossed on it.

“What’s the seal?”

“The D’Arcy family crest. They were aristocracy in their day. They owned half the land from here to Donegal.”

Craig turned the envelope over in his hands. Everything about it said quality, from the weight of the paper to the elegant black script on the front; ‘Diana D’Arcy’. She’d returned to her heritage in death. He had a good idea what the letter would say but a good idea never stood up in law, so he signalled the solicitor to open it, listening to the crack of the wax and the silky sound of the paper unfolding. Kelly read in silence for a moment as Craig stared intently at his face. As the lawyer paled and his eyes filled with tears Craig got one part of his answer; this man had played no part in either of the Bwyes’ deaths.

He nodded him to read aloud and they listened as Diana D’Arcy Bwye apologised to the world. She outlined how violent her husband had been ever since they’d married, and how he’d grown much worse in recent months. Her fear was that he would someday kill Jane, a fear that had increased since she’d married Richard McCann. The strain of keeping their marriage secret was beginning to tell on her, and she believed that someday soon her husband would find out and then both Jane’s and Richard’s lives would be at risk. There was no sign that she knew Oliver Bwye would die soon.