Roxanne, page 24
The detective inspector’s approach was one Waters hadn’t encountered before. It was matter-of-fact but in an extreme sort of way, if such a thing is possible – as if he were reporting over-methodically on an investigation into a scratch on a complainant’s motor vehicle. Walmsley, still with the quizzical smile, said, ‘Mistaken identity and illegible signatures? I think you’ve had a wasted journey. I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name, inspector…’
‘Greene, sir. Detective Inspector Thomas Greene. Reporting to Detective Chief Inspector Cara Freeman.’
‘I see. I’m acquainted with Martin Allen. I believe he’s still based at Kings Lake.’
Greene said, ‘Yes, he is,’ as he took a second sheet of paper from the file and placed it on top of the first.
‘These are the details of the transaction, sir. In the means of payment sect-’
‘Detective Inspector. I think I’ve made it clear that you are making a mistake. Don’t get yourself into hot water by persisting with it. As a magistrate myself, I’m surprised you are here making suggestions based on nothing more than hearsay.’
Greene was quiet, blinking as if his feelings had been hurt, and then he said, ‘In the means of payment section on the invoice, we see that the vehicle was paid for using a Gold Extra credit card linked to a business account. I imagine this went through as a tax-deductible item. We haven’t traced the account yet but Detective Sergeant Waters can initiate that procedure immediately if you think it’s necessary, sir.’
Waters took out his mobile phone and looked expectantly at Lord Walmsley. The smile had gone, replaced by an expression remarkable for its blankness. Then he leaned forward and poured more tea, giving himself time and a reason to break eye contact with the detectives.
Greene took out a third sheet and put it on top of the others, again placed so that Walmsley could read it if he desired to do so.
‘These are client records from the Elite Escorts agency based in Kings Lake, sir. Again, of course, your name is not in here. But the agency carries out some basic checks before it introduces anyone to its young ladies. We have mobile phone numbers here, and most regular clients use bank transfers nowadays. For obvious reasons, some clients will avoid using their personal current accounts, but, as you know, banks are legally bound to hand over all data in serious investigations. Like the one we are conducting today, sir.’
Walmsley drank some of the tea, holding the fragile bone-china cup between the fingers of both hands. He nodded to himself at something, and said, ‘What exactly are you suggesting, detective inspector?’
Greene answered, ‘As you can tell, sir, our investigations still have a long way to go, but I thought I’d come and speak to you in person, to save time and trouble, and to give you the opportunity to assist us. If there are charges later, as you are well aware, that will work in your favour.’
‘Charges? No! You cannot be…’
Perhaps he was going to say ‘serious’ – perhaps not. But there was something unsettling in Greene’s manner that brought the outburst to a premature end. Perhaps it was the fear of a fourth piece of paper, and what it might contain.
Greene said, ‘So what I need from you, sir, is confirmation that you purchased the car and then gave it to Roxanne Prescott as a gift. You knew her as Annaliese, but it’s the same young woman who was found dead in the same car on your estate on the 10th of April. I’d like you to confirm the nature of your relationship with Miss Prescott. And then I’d like you to explain why you haven’t come forward sooner to assist us with our inquiries.’
Later, after those matters had been addressed, they followed Jonathan Walmsley out of the offices and into the car park. Greene had said they certainly would need to see the place, and they would follow him in their own vehicle. Walmsley went into the house to fetch his keys. Waters watched him go, and then realised that someone else was watching them. There was a woman at an upstairs window, her head half-turned as if the scene had caught her attention as she was passing. She was motionless, like a painting, and her face was impassive. Waters returned her gaze but there was nothing, no change in her expression. She looked much older than her husband but he knew this was Lady Walmsley.
He couldn’t tell whether Greene had noticed her, but as they stood waiting in the pleasant afternoon sunshine the detective inspector looked about himself and said, ‘How the other half lives, eh?’
Chapter Twenty-four
At five o’clock the same afternoon, the squad reconvened in the main office. Greene described the cottage and its location. He said, ‘They call it a holiday let but as far as we could tell, it’s Jonathan Walmsley’s private hideaway. It’s called Gamekeeper’s, and it’s by the stream about three hundred metres away from where Roxanne’s body was found. You reach it by driving on past the clearing but if you didn’t know it was there, you’d never find it. Walmsley admitted he met ‘Annaliese’ there on a number of occasions. He claimed that the last time was a Friday night a fortnight before she died. Clive has something relevant from the satnav data.’
Betts said, ‘It’s going to be weeks before we get all that sorted, but I went back to the analyst with the location of the cottage. It shows up regularly in the Favourites file as an off-road location. We’ll be able to get all the dates and times eventually, but it seems to fit with what Walmsley told DI Greene this afternoon, ma’am.’
Freeman said, ‘And phone numbers, too. His mobile is in Roxanne’s call list, and the same number is on file at Elite Escorts. Is he a bit dim?’
Greene said, ‘More likely complacent. Seeing other women has been a regular habit. He never expected it could turn out the way it has this time.’
‘And did he recognise the Mini that day?’
Greene made a gesture with his open palms and said, ‘He wasn’t going to admit to that, ma’am.’
She said, ‘No. Because he knows there’s a potential charge in that. So I’ve answered my own question – he’s not that dim. But it’s my hunch he did recognise it.’
The detective inspector’s expression suggested he didn’t disagree. He said, ‘As far as his alibi for the weekend in question is concerned, I think it will turn out to be cast-iron. Chris has already checked, and Walmsley’s son has been picked for the England Under 18 polo side. There was a match at Cirencester Park in Gloucestershire that weekend, and the family with whom Walmsley claims to have stayed has a property in the area. We’ll confirm it all but it rings true so far, ma’am.’
Freeman said, ‘Well, I’m glad something does in this case. He’s been having sex with a girl whose body turns up on his estate but he’s two hundred miles away at the time? What are the odds? If you’ll pardon the expression, people, Walmsley’s not out of the woods yet as far as I’m concerned.’
Waters caught Tom Greene’s eye but it was Serena who spoke next – Freeman liked full and frank discussion, and everyone was accustomed to having their say these days. She said, ‘I don’t understand why someone like Walmsley would get mixed up in this. It’s cheap and nasty. Riley maybe, he’s a slime-ball, but Walmsley? He’s wealthy, he’s influential. If he wanted a bit on the side, he could get it without paying an agency, surely?’
She looked around and saw Denise Sterling holding up a pen, waiting for a nod from Freeman; Denise was older and had worked for longer under more conventional leaders. The nod came and she said, ‘First thing, Grasshopper, he’s still a bloke. Second-’
Serena said, ‘Why are you calling me an insect?’
Waters himself had no idea but it seemed to mean something to Greene, who said, ‘Don’t worry. It’s a term of affection.’
Serena’s response was, predictably enough, ‘Really? Like beetle or maggot?’
Denise Sterling was entirely unfazed – ‘Sweetie, if you’d rather I called you Butterfly, that’s fine…’
The two of them had these moments. The dust settled and Denise went on, ‘Second, it might be nasty but it isn’t cheap, not at hundreds of quid for a couple of hours or a grand for a night’s extra-marital activity. These escorts aren’t for shelf-stackers or van drivers. Third, lots of men are on the lookout for sex without commitment, preferably with younger women, and if they’ve got the cash, they’ll buy it, one way or another. They always have. This story’s as old as the hills.’
Sterling’s marriage had ended some years ago. Waters didn’t know all the details; there had been gambling but it sounded like more than that now. And Serena’s own career had been damaged by her relationship with a senior officer who, when it became public knowledge, had deserted her. Perhaps it was true – women do pay the price differently and more often than men.
Sterling added, ‘Like I said, sex without commitment. The money is the fine they pay. It’s what lets them walk away.’
Freeman said, ‘No one is walking away from Roxanne Prescott’s death.’
Looking at her, John Murray said, ‘Talking about cheap and nasty, ma’am…’
Murray never gossiped and rarely engaged in banter; an intervention from him meant something significant was about to be added to the mix. Waters knew that after their initial doubts about each other, Freeman had a lot of time for the detective constable, and that by this time the feeling was mutual. She said, ‘Go ahead, John.’
‘I called Eileen Montgomery again, to ask about the PP thing in the files from Elite Escorts.’
‘Oh God. It’s not something disgusting, is it? I’ve hardly eaten a thing today as it is.’
Murray said, ‘She wasn’t very cooperative at first, so I said I’d come down and pay them another visit. Then she told me it stands for Private Parties.’
Freeman shut her eyes and said, ‘Great. We’ll assume these were not knit-ins or baby showers, then. This is beginning to sound like a good old-fashioned vice-ring. I suppose we should be grateful The News Of The World went out of business. So the men in that exclusive little column were up for a party?’
Murray shrugged but it meant yes, that’s what he had got from this. Greene said, ‘Eileen Montgomery must know she’s sailing close to the wind if it does. The escort business evades prostitution laws because it involves only one woman at a time. John, is the agency arranging these parties?’
Murray said, ‘I didn’t push it, sir. I gave Eileen Montgomery the impression we were only interested in what the code meant for our investigation.’
In other words, Murray had suggested to her there would be a free pass on this if she cooperated – it’s a part of the process that all experienced officers employ on occasion. Greene said, ‘Fair enough,’ but Waters saw the note being made a few seconds later when the conversation had moved on.
Serena had thought quickly. She said, ‘Hold on. Earlier someone suggested that Riley and Walmsley might have known they were both involved with Roxanne. Remember? Because of the golf club connection? If they were both at one of these parties…’
Freeman said, ‘Then it’s more likely they knew of each other’s involvement. It might not be cheap, but it’s getting nastier if that’s the case.’ She thought, and as she did so, Waters caught DI Greene’s eye again. The detective inspector acknowledged it as Freeman continued, ‘And even though Walmsley was jet-setting down in Cirencester, we know Riley was in Marborough. If Riley knew Walmsley, he knew where he lived. If we believe what Melanie Haines has told us, the spotlight comes around to Riley again. What if-’
‘Ma’am?’
Freeman half-turned to the silent and almost invisible figure seated a little behind her and said, ‘Priti? Let the record show that DCI Freeman’s train of thought was frequently interrupted during this meeting. Yes, Tom?’
But it was good-natured, and Greene was unperturbed. He said, ‘We hadn’t quite finished briefing on our second interview with Lord Walmsley, ma’am. There’s one more thing.’
Freeman had her eyes closed again, as she said, ‘Just promise me it doesn’t involve animals…’
‘Not as far as I’m aware, ma’am. When we’d had the tour of his private retreat and found out more about the times Roxanne was there, Chris asked a good question.’
There was a time when at that moment, Serena would have given him her teacher’s pet glance, but that was all in the past – she was waiting along with everyone else. Greene didn’t often give praise in public.
Freeman said, ‘OK. Chris?’
Waters said, ‘I asked him whether he’d brought other women to the cottage, before Roxanne. When he said he had, I asked who they were, and as you can imagine, he wasn’t keen on giving me a list. I got the feeling this has been going on for years, though. So then I asked whether any had been booked through Elite Escorts. He said they had, and then he gave us three names. Two we didn’t recognise, but one we did. Celeste.’
This time, no one interrupted that train of thought. At the end of it Freeman said, ‘Melanie Haines was involved with Walmsley as well? When?’
Waters said, ‘As far as we could tell, in the first half of last year. He said he hasn’t seen her for several months.’
Freeman turned to Murray – ‘John, will that show up in some way in Elite’s records?’
He said, ‘If they made the booking through the agency, it should do so, ma’am.’
Everyone was processing this in their own way; Waters gave them a few seconds more before he said, ‘It’s the same pattern as with Brian Riley. They were both using the agency on a regular basis, and then they stopped. They both met Roxanne through the agency, and they both continued seeing her when she went into business on her own.’
‘And that,’ said Denise Sterling,’ unless I’m very much mistaken, will have put some noses out of joint.’
Freeman looked around as she said, ‘Who? Who most of all? Come on, give me names!’ She was doing something Waters had noticed before – she could write notes without looking at her notepad and hold conversations at the same time. Perhaps that was the secret of her celebrated clear-up rate. He should give it a go.
Clive Betts said, ‘Elite Escorts. Thirty per cent a booking? She cost them a packet.’
Serena followed with, ‘And any of the girls who lost out. Roxanne took the high-rollers, didn’t she? Holidays and cars?’
Freeman said it, then; ‘And of those girls, we have one name. Celeste. Who happened to share a house with the victim. It’s almost half past five. Too late to get her back today – by the time we get going she’ll be saying it’s her bedtime. Tomorrow morning, bright and early. Or…’
Waters saw a face looking in from the window in the office door. It was Detective Chief Superintendent Allen. He seemed to be hoping someone would notice him and alert Freeman, who had her back to him, but if anyone else had seen him they, like Waters, were not cooperating. For some seconds Freeman stared down at her notepad, tapping with one forefinger something she had written there earlier. Then she said, ‘Or we bring in Trudi Mercer. If something happened that Saturday night that we haven’t been told yet, she’s the one most likely to give it up, isn’t she?’
Allen had disappeared. Around the table, nods of agreement with what had just been suggested, and Waters thought, it’s what DC would have done; apply the pressure to Melanie Haines indirectly by not bringing her in for further questioning. Leave her to sweat alone in the house, wondering what her less assertive, less self-assured housemate was telling the police.
On the table, Freeman’s mobile began to ring. She glanced down and pressed the red button. Denise said, ‘I reckon that’s the way to go, ma’am. Who would you want talking to Trudi?’
Clearly this was one of the matters Freeman had been considering. She said, ‘You and Serena this time. No offence, gentlemen, but it’ll probably get weepy – that’s what we want – and these two will be better at mopping up than you are.’
Waters indicated he wasn’t offended, and John Murray was almost certainly relieved. It was Murray who said then, ‘We should make a show of bringing Trudi back in again. Send a marked car as well as one of our own. And someone ought to watch the house afterwards, just in case, ma’am.’
The mobile rang again and Freeman repeated her previous actions but even more promptly as she said, ‘In case our Mel decides to take an impromptu vacation. Good point, John. Will you do that, watch the house for a while?’
Allen’s face reappeared in the door’s window, and from the darkened expression Waters could only assume that the superintendent had twice called Freeman and twice been dismissed. The door opened and Allen marched in, making little attempt to conceal his irritation.
Heads turned and he said, ‘DCI Freeman? A word?’
She smiled – something she saved for special occasions, Waters had learned – and said, ‘Hello, sir. We’re almost done. I’ll be along in ten minutes, if that’s OK.’
Waters avoided everyone’s eye at that moment. Between two senior officers with an established and effective working relationship, her response might have been acceptable, but those parameters did not apply here – what she had just done was close to insubordination. Everyone in the group would have sensed this, and, more to the point, Allen would know they had done so. He could have said, ‘No, now please,’ and what might then have ensued? Instead, Allen said through tightened lips, ‘I’m expecting an important call. I’m here late this evening. My office at seven, then.’
‘Sorry, sir. I have an appointment. It’s one I had to cancel from yesterday because we were here until nearly ten o’clock ourselves last night.’
Waters risked a glance to his left but Murray had taken up a position behind the wall of his own impassive nature. The silence became awkward and then the superintendent said in a chilly voice, ‘At your own convenience, then,’ walked out and closed the door.
