Troubled Waters (21 page)

Outside the Chinatown entrance to the building John and the muscle had been waiting nearly ten minutes for Knut, and attracted the attention of CID officers. They heard the noise of the incident in Piccadilly on the other side of the building, and also of course the police sirens. Their big mistake was not to walk towards the action, as would be expected by your normal ghoulish oglers, but to run in the opposite direction down George Street. They were quickly apprehended by the CID officers and carted off to the police station.

***

Lambert and Evans having departed, and Carl on other duties, Amelia and I are now alone in the office and can theorise some more on the murder.

‘Let’s take a step back with regards to Sophia,’ I suggest. ‘If she did have anything to do with it, why would she ask us to help her in the first place?’

‘She is clearly seriously worried about something,’ Amelia agrees. ‘And maybe the story about a stalker was a cover-up.’

‘And she can be unstable, as evidenced by the attack on you.’

‘And supported by Carlo’s confession about her past history,’ Amelia adds. ‘But for the sake of argument, if she wanted to commit murder and most likely in a rage, surely she would naturally resort to martial arts, which would then leave obvious signs?’

‘Absolutely,’ I concur. ‘And that brings us around again to the conclusion that she is not the killer but is definitely covering something up. OK, I think I might have a twinkling of an idea, but need to hear what information comes back next from the police.’

We continue throwing ideas around, but nothing else sounds remotely feasible. Its early evening and now dark. It is now much quieter outside, the crowds having dispersed, and even the protesters have given up. The trams are not running on the track where the incident took place, and the area close around the incident is still cordoned off as a forensic team go about their business of proving what appears to be patently obvious: that a man has died as a result of being run over by a tram.

There is a tap on the door and in walks Carl Benson, followed by Lambert and Evans, accompanied by Sammy Wang carrying a large folder of notes and printouts.

‘Evening all,’ Lambert mimics, in a woeful Dixon of Dock Green accent. ‘I thought it was easier to bring Sammy in with us, so you can hear the story first-hand from him.’

‘Good idea,’ we say, nodding in agreement.

‘While Sammy is organising himself,’ Lambert says, ‘Evans has some news on the tram incident and the fracking protest front.’

We sit up, all attention at this announcement. Evans produces his own notes from a smaller folder.

‘Right, I’m not sure where to begin, so if anything sounds distorted just stop me. Firstly, the man knocked down earlier today was none other than Hans Johansen, alias Knut Amundsen.’

We gasp in amazement.

‘We have had more information from Stavanger, Norway, via Oslo about Knut. One item of interest in this particular situation is that when he was based in Stavanger, working on an oil rig in the North Sea, there was an explosion. He survived with only minor injuries, but lost the hearing in his right ear.’

‘That’s why he didn’t hear the tram!’ Amelia exclaims excitedly.

‘Exactly,’ Evans confirms.

‘But… but wait. It couldn’t have been an accident that he was here. He must have been about to cause mischief of some kind,’ I splutter.

Evans is almost enjoying himself now. ‘Hold on, I’m coming to that bit. When we got back to HQ earlier, we were given a report – or rather, the boss here was – that two men loitering outside the Chinatown side entrance were arrested on suspicion of intent to illegally enter this very building at virtually the same time as poor Knut was run over by a tram. They were caught not running towards the incident but running away, immediately causing more suspicion in the eagle eyes of the two CID officers who had independently been keeping tabs on them as looking out of place.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ I compliment. ‘Good policing.’

Lambert, looking smugly proud, takes up the story. ‘One was a local hard man from Salford and had been with the fracking protest group as muscle at your mate’s farm up in Lancashire. The other man, a Cockney, was the armourer, who had a sports bag containing a rifle and three automatic handguns.’

Carl, who has been listening intently, shouts, ‘Oh, my God! Were they going to assassinate us?’

‘Apparently not,’ Lambert continues. ‘Their plan was to force their way into the building, occupy these premises, and hold whoever was in here hostage until their demands were met.’

‘Wow! There but for the grace of God!’ Carl exclaims.

‘Indeed, you’re dead right there,’ I agree.

‘I wouldn’t fancy being a hostage either,’ Amelia adds.

There is a reflective pause until Evans brings order and calm. ‘Anyone for a cup of tea?’ he offers.

There is a yes from everyone, but it is Carl who steps up and gets his long-suffering volunteer on the job again. Refreshments on the go, Sammy is now prepared to give his findings on the collation of his re-interviews at Salford into Work and the Lowry Hotel.

Shuffling his papers, he begins. ‘As we all know, Marian Clowes was murdered on the evening of 14
th
November, shortly after leaving the Lowry Hotel at approximately 9pm. Owing to his immediate disappearance, Barry Milton was first suspected of being the perpetrator. He would have had motive, as he would have assumed Marian was about to blow the whistle on his fraudulent activities at Salford into Work. As a large, strong man with a history of violence, he would certainly have the means. However, the problem is opportunity, as there is no witness testimony that he was outside of the bar area at the time of the murder. In fact, there are a number of witness statements that he never left the bar area at all.’

Amelia holds up her hand at this point. ‘Is there any possibility that a witness has not been questioned yet, or is lying?’

‘We are ninety-nine per cent sure that we have questioned everyone who was in the bar area, and we can see no reason for any to have lied,’ Sammy answers.

‘That still leaves us with a whole load of people,’ I state.

Lambert interjects at this point, in defence of Sammy. ‘There were an awful lot of people in the bar that night, but back to opportunity and motive, we are looking for someone who had motive and opportunity, which to begin with must exclude those people who were not with the party from Salford into Work.’

‘But for opportunity, the perpetrator must have gone outside at about 9pm,’ I add.

‘That’s correct,’ Lambert confirms.

My thoughts are crystallising now, but I wait for more.

Sammy continues. ‘So what we are left with are witness statements that point to two people from the Salford into Work party, who it appears could have gone outside and possibly stayed outside, waited for Marian Clowes to leave the bar, and then murdered her.’

‘And those two people are…?’ I ask.

‘Phil Biggins and Sophia Peroni,’ Sammy states.

‘And what do those two people have to say about it?’ Amelia challenges.

‘They both admit going outside, but insist they came back inside well before nine o’clock,’ Sammy confirms. ‘And, I would add, both originally denied the fact until confronted with the witness statements from those members of staff who were absent at the time of first interviews. I only obtained their statements second time around.’

‘What do they say was their reason for going outside?’ I ask.

‘To go for a smoke,’ Sammy replies.

Amelia appears in shock. ‘As far as I know, Sophia doesn’t smoke,’ she insists.

‘Why would she lie about it? That’s pretty damning, isn’t it?’ Evans observes.

Amelia and I exchange glances. Neither of us is convinced that Sophia was the perpetrator, and while it does seem that Phil Biggins had the means and opportunity, what could be his motive? I feel I have a theory developing, and wonder if something has been overlooked.

‘May I hypothesise for a moment?’ I ask the assembled policemen. ‘You say both Biggins and Sophia were defensive at first, and only confessed to being outside when confronted with a witness statement?’

‘That’s correct,’ Sammy reiterates.

‘Did she state that she had been outside for a smoke, or was she prompted? I can’t remember what you said last time.’

There is a pause whilst Sammy flicks back through his notes. ‘She was severely stressed, and yes, I did suggest that maybe she had ventured out for a smoke. Thinking back, she grabbed at it.’

‘Because there was another reason for her being outside, that she couldn’t reveal,’ Amelia postulates.

‘That could well be,’ Sammy admits, drawing nods of acceptance from Lambert and Evans.

My mind is running overtime now as the pieces of the jigsaw begin to fit together. ‘So,’ I say, ‘could it be that they were out together?’

There is a stunned silence, and glances all around as the possible reasons for this are assimilated. I decide to cement my theory.

‘What we have tried to determine so far is who was, or may have been,
outside
the bar, and therefore in a position to be the perpetrator.’ I let this sink in for a moment before continuing. ‘What is necessary now, then, is to try and determine who was not
inside
the bar when Marian Clowes left. Is there CCTV footage of the bar area?’

‘Of course, there must be, but we were originally looking for Barry Milton, and of course he was still there at nine o’clock,’ Sammy answers.

Lambert takes control at this point. ‘Evans, would we have a copy of the footage?’

‘I would expect so, sir.’

‘Right, get on to the station, then. It shouldn’t take five minutes to see if Phil Biggins and Sophia Peroni were there at nine pm.’

Evans moves away from the table to the end of the office to complete his task.

Lambert turns to me. ‘Are you prepared to stick your neck out on this theory now, as to what we’ll find on the CCTV footage?’

With my fingers crossed, I go for broke. ‘My guess is that Sophia Peroni will be there, inside the bar, but Phil Biggins will not.’

‘And your reason?’

‘I believe Phil Biggins to be the perpetrator, and that he and Sophia were outside prior to nine pm in order to discuss something.’

Evans returns to the table. ‘It’s true that Sophia is on the tape, but Biggins is not.’

Amelia is quickest off the mark. ‘So Marian Clowes was going to blow the whistle?’

‘Yes,’ I begin, ‘but not to expose either fraud or fracking. I believe Sophia was having an affair with Biggins, and Marian found out and was going to tell his wife. I believe Marian also had an affair with Biggins, and he broke it off for Sophia. Biggins went out to confront her, but lost control and over she went. I believe the phone call she received was from Sophia, warning her that Biggins was on his way out.’

Everyone is now staring at me. After a minute Lambert speaks.

‘Umm, that shouldn’t take us long to check out, eh, boys?’ He gestures at Evans and Wang. ‘Let’s get cracking.’

Two days later, in the bar at Forest View golf club, I ask Chief Inspector Bill Lambert about the arrest of Phil Biggins.

‘How did it go, then?’

‘Confessed immediately. We knocked on his door, and he said that Sophia’s own stress was affecting him and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He said that when he saw Marian stop on the river bank to answer her mobile phone, he saw his opportunity, and in a moment of rage and panic he grabbed her scarf and over she went into the river. It wasn’t premeditated, therefore manslaughter not murder.’

‘Good result, then,’ I say.

‘Yes. I’d say so. Crime of passion, so he’ll only serve half his time. Bombay Sapphire and tonic, is it?’

Trevor was born in Manchester and now divides his time between Cheshire and the Algarve, Portugal. He began writing after a career in finance

Sports activities include golf, running, swimming, and cycling.

Trevor’s books are available on Amazon.

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www.trevorburt.wordpress.com