Wrongful Death (21 page)

Barolli sucked in his breath, still uncertain.

‘I know I’m right, I’m certain, and that caretaker’s description fits Bowman. Reynolds knew him, would open the door to him, maybe he went round to get payment for painting and decorating, safe open stashed with money . . . bang!’

‘Okay, it’s possible. If Donna and Curtis Bowman were in it together then we need to call Anna before she gets to the Trojan,’ Barolli said. He didn’t want to curb Dewar’s enthusiasm but he couldn’t believe how quickly her theories and suspicion changed from one suspect to another.

Chapter Sixteen

Anna was already en route to the Trojan when she received Dewar’s anxious phone call about the conversation with Ken Gorman. Barolli, who was driving, had put his mobile on speakerphone so they could both listen.

‘Your point about the scene being made to look like a suicide because it would attract less police attention is valid, Jessie,’ Anna said, ‘but it’s still all conjecture at the moment and we need some strong factual evidence.’

‘It has to be Curtis Bowman who did the decorating: he fits the description Mr Gorman gave,’ Dewar insisted.

‘Did Gorman actually see him?’ Anna asked.

‘No, but Mr and Mrs Braun at number three did and they told Gorman.’

‘They’re away on holiday for another two weeks,’ Barolli chipped in and Dewar frowned at him.

‘Donna must have known Bowman was doing the decorating yet she never mentioned it to Simms or us,’ she continued. ‘The only reasonable explanation is she hired him to kill Josh.’

‘At the moment, all we can do is either wait for the Brauns to return from holiday or ask Curtis Bowman outright if he was the decorator,’ Anna told them.

‘Your being naïve, he’ll deny it and tell Donna then you’ve played your hand and blown it. I think we should arrest Bowman, offer him a plea bargain as an incentive and see if he will give Donna up,’ Dewar said anxiously.

Anna could hear the frustration in her voice, but felt obliged to explain that in the UK legal system anything that could be interpreted as coercion or a threat to intimidate a suspect could end up with the whole case being thrown out of court.

‘Leave Curtis Bowman to me – and don’t worry, I will be discreet,’ Anna told Dewar.

‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ Dewar replied.

Feeling that the agent was becoming rather petulant, Anna asked to speak with Barolli, who pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the speakerphone, taking the mobile Dewar begrudgingly passed him. Anna told him that if Donna and Curtis were involved in Josh’s death then Dewar was right to be concerned about what they might do if they suspected police were on to them.

‘I want more investigation done on Donna and Josh’s relationship,’ Anna said. ‘He’s no family in the UK that we know of and Marcus Williams is not totally reliable. Aisa could, if approached in the right way, shed more light on the relationship.’

‘We could do that if you like,’ Barolli suggested.

‘Okay, go to the Lynne Foundation reception, and if Donna’s not there go and speak with Aisa,’ Anna said. ‘Approach the visit from the angle that you’re merely confirming everyone’s alibis for the night of Josh’s death then casually work the conversation round to Donna and Josh’s relationship.’

Barolli promised he would ring her if there were any problems before switching back to speakerphone as Anna gave them a run-down on Josh’s personal bank account statements and the costly petrol receipts, suggesting they read through the bank documents when they got back to the office.

‘I’m sorry for implying you were naïve and I’ll accept a meeting with Aisa as consolation for not arresting Bowman!’ Dewar shouted and Barolli explained that she had been leaning up against him and listening in on their conversation.

‘Just as well I didn’t say anything derogatory then,’ Anna remarked dryly.

Dewar laughed and shouted back, ‘You’re beginning to warm to me!’

‘Slowly but surely,’ Anna replied, and they all laughed. ‘Just please, tread lightly with Aisa, we don’t want to provoke Gloria. I’ll catch up with you back at the station,’ Anna said and then hung up.

Barolli remarked that it was very interesting about the petrol receipts. ‘A car that takes over a hundred and thirty quid to fill must have at least a ninety-litre tank. My Ford holds about seventy, so something—’

Dewar interrupted him. ‘What’s that in gallons?’

He pulled out once again, heading towards the station. ‘Seventy litres is just over fifteen gallons.’

‘That’s about the same as my Ford gas tank holds.’

‘You got a Mondeo as well then? Reliable and cheap to run, aren’t they,’ Barolli quipped, stopping for a red light.

‘No, a 67 Ford Mustang Convertible,’ she replied nonchalantly, making Barolli feel slightly embarrassed at his assumption.

‘Is it the GTA?’ he asked with an air of authority, which aroused Dewar’s interest.

‘As it happens,yes, with a V8 engine.’

‘They’re a bit of a rare beast. I was told that Wilson Pickett’s song “Mustang Sally” was inspired by the GTA.’

The light turned green and Barolli pressed the accelerator.

‘Close, it was actually the 65 Fastback he wrote about. You like classic cars?’

‘Absolutely love them. I go to the festivals when I can. Brooklands in Surrey has an American classics day in September. I can take you, if you’d like,’ he said, glancing towards Dewar.

‘I’d love to but I’ll be back at Quantico by then,’ Dewar said, genuinely grateful. ‘The Mustang belonged to my dad. He smashed it up when I was a kid and it just got left under a tarpaulin. Years later, when he opened his own repair shop, we rebuilt it together.’

‘Now that’s something to be proud of,’ Barolli said admiringly.

‘I am, but sadly Dad died before we finished it, so I completed it myself. I don’t drive it all the time but when I do it feels like he’s sitting there beside me and keeping me safe along the way.’

Visibly moved by the fond memory of her father, suddenly she reached into her bag to open a small leather photo wallet and showed Barolli a photograph of herself sitting proudly on the bonnet of the car with a beaming smile on her face.

Barolli glanced over. ‘Two American beauties,’ he said, focusing again on the road, but he could see that Dewar was flattered – she grinned and looked away, but she couldn’t hide the red glow that came over her face.

As Anna parked in the rear mews she could see Curtis Bowman washing a blue Bentley Convertible.

‘That’s a nice car, Curtis. Must cost you a fortune in petrol though,’ she remarked, tongue in cheek, as she walked round the vehicle in mock admiration.

‘Oh, it’s not mine; it belongs to Mr Williams,’ Curtis replied, taken aback at the very idea. Anna smiled at him and the penny dropped.

‘You was joking with me, weren’t ya, officer,’ he said, wagging his finger at Anna who smiled.

‘Mr Williams will have you decorating his house for him next,’ Anna said, wondering if Curtis would take the bait.

‘No way. I don’t have time for that as well as all the stuff I have to do here.’

‘I’m surprised you’ve never been asked, as the handyman work you do in the club is so good. I’d have thought you’d be a first-choice decorator for anyone who knew you,’ Anna remarked disingenuously.

‘Mr Reynolds, God rest him, asked me once but I had to say no.’ Curtis shook his head.

‘What, to decorate his flat?’ Anna asked.

‘No, his mother’s place after she died. Said he wanted to do it up and sell it. He was so down when she passed.’

‘Pity, you’d have done a good job,’ Anna said.

‘My wife wouldn’t stand for it; I hardly sees me kids as it is. I’m in bed when they get up for school and here when they get back.’

Anna couldn’t be a hundred per cent sure that Curtis was telling the truth, but there was something about him that put her at ease. His reaction, demeanour and straightforward approach made her sense that he was an honest and forthright man who simply got on with his life and did as he was asked to the best of his ability, which made her feel it was safe to ask him questions that were a bit more probing.

Curtis began to wipe the Bentley down with his shammy leather.

‘You said Mr Reynolds asked you about decorating his mum’s place – do you know if he found anyone to do the job?’ she wondered.

‘Well, when I asked him, he said he had.’

‘Did he say who it was?’

‘I can’t recall exactly – let me think back.’ Curtis paused for thought and held his chin. ‘That’s it, bloke called Sam, Sammy or Samuel, something like that.’

Again, Anna didn’t get the impression that Curtis was lying as she moved on to ask him if he knew whether the decorator had ever done any work at the flat Josh shared with Donna. Curtis said he didn’t and Anna casually asked him if he used to wash Mr Reynolds’ car for him as well.

‘He didn’t have a car, sometimes used Donna’s.’

‘What about a bike?’

‘Yes, he used to leave it inside the back door.’

‘Did he use it the day you last saw him?’ Anna pressed.

‘No. I remember he hadn’t been on his bike for a while and I asked if he’d sold it and he said it was at home with a broken pedal. I said I’d fix it but he never brought it in to me.’

‘Well, thanks for your time, Curtis,’ Anna said, and started to walk off.

‘There’s something I remembered about the last day I saw Mr Reynolds.’

Anna stopped instantly, eager to hear what Curtis had to say.

‘You asking about the decorator man just brought it back. The same day Mr Reynolds died, there were a man walking through the club. I ask him what he was doing and he said he come to see Josh and he was his uncle.’

‘Did he give his name?’ Anna asked, but Curtis shook his head.

‘Can you describe him?’ Anna asked, trying to hide her excitement.

‘About my height, black, fifty-five maybe, with a Rasta hat and dreadlocks. The thing was, he was wearing the same type blue overalls as me, but his had a lot of paint splashes on.’

‘Had you seen him here before?’

‘No, just the once and never since. I told him where Mr Reynolds’ office was and he went up the staff stairs.’

‘Can you recall what time this was?’

‘Afternoon sometime, I think, just before he left the club though. I knows that ’cause I saw him speaking to Mr Williams and then walk off.’

Anna thanked Curtis for his help. She didn’t think he was trying to pull the wool over her eyes and felt increasingly certain that Dewar was totally wrong about any involvement the handyman might have had in Josh Reynolds’ death. The hard part would be getting Dewar to accept the fact.

Marcus Williams, smartly dressed in a blue linen suit and matching shirt, was in his office working at his desk when Anna walked in, and immediately invited her to take a seat opposite him.

‘So what can I do for you this time, DCI Travis?’ Williams asked.

‘Did Josh ever use your Bentley?’ Anna asked without preamble, taking her notebook out of her bag.

‘No, I’ve only had it a couple of months. I had a Saab Convertible before that. He used it occasionally to pop out to the wholesalers or—’

‘What about the day he died?’ Anna interrupted, getting to the point.

‘Definitely not, it was off the road then being re-sprayed after some little shit keyed it all along one side.’

‘Did he have access to any other cars?’

‘Only Donna’s Mini, as far as I know; beyond that it was like I told you on the phone, public transport or his bike.’

‘Curtis Bowman said he stopped using his bike in October.’

‘That could be the case. I never asked or kept an eye on how he got to and from work,’ Williams said, leaning back in his chair.

‘Did Josh have any other family left after his mother died?’

‘His Aunt Marisha or Marsi as everyone called her. She was Esme’s sister and lived in Brixton but the family fell out with her donkey’s years ago. Esme had a brother and maybe other sisters in Jamaica but I’m not sure.’

‘Do you know Marisha’s surname or where she lives?’ Anna asked.

‘No. I went to see her with Josh a few times, when we were about fourteen.’ Williams grinned. ‘I remember she was a large woman who had a big smile and really infectious laugh. She used to make a mean fish stew.’

‘What about Esme or Josh’s funerals – didn’t any family attend?’

‘At Esme’s, yes. Josh introduced me to her brother who had flown over from Jamaica. I think his name was Samuel but I only spoke with him briefly and he wasn’t at Josh’s funeral. Actually, come to think of it, Josh did say that he thought his Aunt Marisha would have made the effort to attend her sister’s funeral,’ Williams said.

‘Did his Uncle Samuel ever visit him here?’

‘Could have done but I never saw him.’

‘Do you know anything about Josh having either his own flat in Bayswater or his mother’s flat redecorated before he died?’ Anna asked.

‘He said he was going to do his mum’s place up and either lease or sell it but I don’t know if he did or about redecorating his place.’

Deciding to gauge Williams’ reaction to the mention of financial matters at the club, Anna asked if he or Josh had ever got involved with loan sharks.

Williams was clearly offended as he gave a firm, ‘NO.’

‘So, no problems paying off legitimate loans, tax returns—’

Williams jumped up from his seat, went over to a corner cupboard and withdrew two large cardboard boxes. He thumped them down on his desk, declaring that all the Trojan’s renovation invoices, business receipts and accounts for the last two tax years were inside. Anna thought his reaction was overly defensive.

‘Everything you need is in there, including a dealer’s receipt for the Bentley as it’s my company car, so feel free to take the boxes with you,’ Williams said, flippantly pulling out his mobile phone to check a text.

Anna, irritated by his attitude, stood up, got her handcuffs out of her handbag and held them up to Williams as she spoke.

‘Personally, I don’t give a toss if you’re fiddling the books, but this is your last chance to answer my question or I will arrest you for fraud and let the tax man loose on you,’ Anna said firmly, making it clear she was in no mood to be messed about.