No Escape (The Kent Fisher Murder Mysteries Book 8), page 20
“Mr Fisher and I won’t be staying.”
“He can’t leave without his clothes, Miss Goodman. I was about to put them in the tumble dryer to freshen them up.”
Ashley can’t contain the sarcasm. “You keep spare clothes for passing strangers? Or is Mr Fisher more than a passing stranger, Miss Blossom?”
“I’m a supporter of his animal sanctuary. He was interested in my neighbour, Edward Marshall. From what he’s told me, I’m surprised the police weren’t more interested.”
“What exactly has he told you?”
“The man’s dead, isn’t he? But for Mr Fisher’s prompt action, Mr Marshall could have been lying there for weeks. He led a private and self-contained life. He hardly went out and had few callers.”
“I’m pleased you keep a close eye on him, Miss Blossom. Someone will come over later to take a full statement. Forensic officers will need to examine Mr Fisher’s clothing, so can you fetch it for me?”
Hendrix growls at Ashley. Columbo watches with interest. I wonder if he’s as impressed with Trudi as I am. While I appreciate her support, she’s not doing herself any favours. Then again, she may not be a fan of the police. She returns with my carrier bag of clothes and holds it out, forced to wait while Ashley pulls on some protective gloves.
“I’ll make more tea,” Trudi says, heading for the kitchen.
Ashley has a good rummage and then peels off her gloves, tossing them into the carrier bag. “DC Foster will be along to talk to you soon. That gives you a short window of opportunity to tell me why I should stop her arresting you. Trespassing, contaminating a crime scene, interfering with a murder investigation. It couldn’t get much worse.”
I remove the cloth covering the DVD. “You should have kept your gloves on.”
She stares at it and groans. “I had no idea, Kent.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Did you find it at the scene? Of course you did.” A range of emotions pass across her face. Finally, she says, “I can understand you wanting to protect Gemma, but you’re making it too easy for Foster and Penn.”
I shrug, not sure I care what the duo think. “If Gemma killed Marshall, why would she leave the DVD behind?”
“We both know she didn’t do it, Kent, but you’ve made it impossible for me to help you now.” Ashley gives me a look that’s somewhere between anger and disappointment. “Your actions today mean I’ll be removed from the investigation. You’ve made me look like a fool for trusting you.”
“You should never have got involved, Ashley. You know that.”
“You’re a mate. I wanted to help you find Gemma. That’s why I asked Tony to have a word with you.”
“Tony Jackson, the traffic cop?”
“His aunt works for you. He can pop round to your sanctuary without suspicion and pass information to you.”
“Yeah, but he thinks Gemma could have killed Halliday.”
“He was trying to wake you up to the trouble she’s in. I thought you might listen to him and be more ... cooperative, I suppose. But you had to go off on your own.”
“Foster and Penn believe Gemma killed Halliday.”
“It’s a valid line of inquiry – one of several. Now you’ve made it stronger by charging into the studio and removing evidence. Please don’t insult me by saying you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I thought Marshall was holding my wife prisoner.”
“We haven’t been sitting around twiddling our thumbs, Kent. We know about Marshall, what he did for a living.”
“Then why did it take you so long to get here?”
“You know why. Marshall was a person of interest, but we needed evidence for a warrant to search his property. We were about to execute the warrant when you charged in.”
“You could have warned me.”
“Get real, Kent. This isn’t some half-baked detective story.”
“Is that what you think of me? A half-baked detective?” I’m on my feet now, unable to stop the anger that’s been building inside me. “You could have made one lousy phone call to warn me.”
“You would have still turned up.”
“Yeah, but I would have stayed out of Marshall’s property.”
She rolls her eyes as if it would never happen. She’s right, of course. The minute Trudi showed me a way through the hedge, I had only one thing on my mind.
I force a smile. “I could have saved you the hassle of getting a warrant.”
Ashley looks at me as if I’m a pain in the proverbial. “Don’t say that to Foster. She’s already furious with both of us. If I were you, I’d ring your flashy solicitor in London. He’s going to earn his fee this time.”
“Don’t forget my clothes.”
“Tell Foster you bagged them for her, knowing she’d want them for evidence. She won’t believe you, but a judge might.”
“What about the DVD?”
Ashley stops by the door, pursing her lips as she thinks. “Marshall will have copies, which we’ll recover from the property. We can’t recover those he’s already sent out to subscribers. Mind you,” she says, looking hopeful, “if they were stored at Halliday’s place in Lower Dicker, they may have been destroyed in the fire.”
Hendrix and Columbo watch her hurry down the garden and through the hedge. Trudi enters the conservatory, looking thoughtful. “Was DI Goodman suggesting you hide the DVD and let the CSIs find a copy next door?”
“Probably, but I’m going to hand it to Foster and earn some mitigation points.” I stare at the cover and sigh. “While I don’t want to watch the videos, I need to know what’s on the disc. The police won’t tell me. Once they take it, we’ll never know.”
“You think there could be clues on the disc, something to help us work out who’s behind the murders?”
I’m not sure what I’m thinking.
“I can copy the files onto a memory stick, if you want, Kent.”
I nod, my thoughts elsewhere. If someone in the police is a subscriber, videos of my wife could end up all over the internet.
While Trudi copies the DVD, I ring my father and ask him to line up his solicitor, William Rogers.
“William’s been on standby since you returned. We knew you’d never leave it to the police to find Gemma. What’s the latest?”
“I found Eddie Marshall’s body. Shot in the head like Halliday.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer couple. You called the police, I take it.”
“They’re all over the scene. They’ll want to interview me, probably at the custody suite. We could be there all night.”
“William won’t let that happen.”
“Can you come and collect Columbo?”
“I’ll look after him,” Trudi says, returning to the conservatory.
“Who’s that?” he asks.
“Marshall’s neighbour. Trudi’s been a great help.”
“Women usually are where you’re concerned. Keep me posted.”
I end the call and turn to Trudi. “How did you get on?”
She places the DVD on the table. “There wasn’t much on the disc to copy. Do you want me to hold onto the memory stick in case the police search you? You can collect it when you return the clothes. Or will the police seize them when they lock you up?”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that. I helped them find a murder victim.”
She holds up the DVD. “Don’t forget about this. I’d say it gives you a powerful motive to kill Eddie Marshall.”
Forty-Six
Unlike Ashley, Foster and Penn enter through the front door. They’re polite, waiting to be invited inside and into the conservatory, declining refreshments on the way. From what I’ve read and seen on TV, the pathologist and crime scene investigators take control when a body’s found, excluding others to prevent contamination of the scene. This leaves Foster and Penn free to interview witnesses and gather information.
Hendrix and Columbo, still tired after playing on the lawn, lie next to each other on the conservatory floor, both sound asleep. Columbo’s taken to the long-haired dachshund and formed his own small pack. Naturally, as he’s a Westie, he’s in charge. He looks up as Foster and Penn enter the conservatory and then goes back to sleep.
Foster drapes her yellow cagoule over the back of the sofa and straightens her loose sweater over her navy blue trousers. Like her scuffed, sensible shoes, they’re splattered with mud. Her thick tresses of damp hair, blown by the wind, give her a dishevelled look her hands cannot remedy.
“I’ll make myself scarce,” Trudi says.
“Please stay, Miss Blossom.” Foster eyes the bag of clothes on the floor. “Are these yours, Mr Fisher?”
I nod.
Penn lifts the bag and opens it for his colleague to take a look inside. “Kind of you to bag your clothes for us,” he says. “I didn’t realise you carried crime scene gloves with you. Does it mean we won’t find any of your fingerprints in the house and studio?”
Did Ashley leave the gloves to make it look like I took precautions while examining a crime scene?
Foster dumps herself onto the sofa. “Why did you leave the property? You were told to meet us there.”
“I was soaked to the skin. Miss Blossom kindly offered me a change of clothes.”
“She came with you to Edward Marshall’s studio?”
“When Mr Fisher came back, I offered to tumble dry his clothes, but he insisted on saving them for you, knowing you’d want to examine them.”
“How thoughtful,” Penn says, remaining on his feet.
“You’ll also want this.” I hold out the DVD, now cocooned inside a sandwich bag. “As you can see, it features my wife, Gemma, in her younger days. You know what Eddie Marshall did for a living, I guess.”
She takes the bag and stares at the cover. “Where did you find this?”
“On the table in front of Marshall.”
Penn makes no effort to hide his disbelief. “You entered a crime scene to retrieve a DVD?”
“I didn’t know Marshall was dead until I entered the room. Once I’d confirmed he was beyond help, I noticed the DVD and took it into safe keeping for you.”
Penn’s frustration boils over. “You removed evidence from a crime scene.”
“I preserved evidence for you. I didn’t like the idea of people like you getting a cheap thrill while you examined the scene.”
“You tampered with evidence.”
I stare at Penn in his tailored suit and shiny shoes. Young, aggressive and ambitious, his lack of experience makes it easier and safer to be black and white, to stick to rules and avoid making balanced judgements. It doesn’t make him a bad detective, but he should be watching and learning from Foster.
“I could have kept the DVD and said nothing.”
Foster gives Penn a sharp look, cutting him off before he can respond. She smiles at Trudi. “Perhaps we will have coffee, Miss Blossom. I take mine white with two sugars. My colleague takes his black without sugar.”
Foster waits for Trudi to leave. “Mr Fisher, I understand you want to protect your wife’s dignity, but this is a murder enquiry. You know how we operate and why. You should have left the scene as instructed.”
“I wasn’t going to hang around waiting when my wife could have been lying injured or dead somewhere on the premises.”
“You found time to take the DVD though.” Penn can’t hide a smirk of triumph. “You should have left it in situ.”
I stare at him, determined to knock him off his smug, narrow-minded perch. “If you found a DVD of your wife, posing naked for the camera, would you want everyone to see it?”
“She hardly made it for private viewing, did she? This is a professional cover.”
“Watch a lot of DVDs, do you?”
Foster suppresses a smile. “Can we ease back on the testosterone, gentlemen? We’re after information, not points. Now, setting aside your transgressions, Kent, tell me how you identified and located Mr Marshall.”
“A friend of mine at Lewes District Council found him on their database. Miss Blossom had complained in the past about noisy parties. I came out to talk to her and check out Marshall’s house.”
Penn gives me a dubious look. “Noise complaints? That’s it?”
“Eddie was mentioned in one of Halliday’s texts, if you remember.”
Foster nods. “While in the studio and the house, did you come across anything that looked out of place or warranting further attention?”
While I retrace my steps in my mind, Trudi places a fresh cup of tea on the table for me. She collects coffees for the detectives from the kitchen and passes them over. After a nod from Foster, Penn turns to Trudi. “Perhaps we could talk in the lounge, Miss Blossom.”
Hendrix growls and trots after them, rousing Columbo. He yawns, stares at Foster and then moves close to my feet to settle once more. I stroke his fur, wondering why Foster hasn’t insisted we go to the custody centre.
“The house looked unlived in,” I say. “No one has visited or stayed there for some time. As far as I could tell, Marshall spent his time downstairs and in his studio.”
“That was my impression. We’ll look into his finances, but I suspect his main income was the DVD business he operated with Bryan Halliday. Our technical team will examine their computers to recover their subscribers’ list. Hopefully, we’ll find someone who had a motive to kill the two of them.”
“You don’t suspect my wife?”
She stares at the DVD in her hands. “If she killed Halliday and Marshall because of this, why didn’t she take it with her? I would have taken the place apart, looking for further copies, especially the master.” She looks up. “I saw no evidence of anyone searching the place or trashing the computers.”
“I’m not sure Gemma was there at all.”
If not, where the hell is she?
The thought of her being held somewhere, alone and fearing for her life, is more than I can bear.
I’m on the edge of my seat, ready to go. “We need to find Gemma. She could be the killer’s next target.”
She makes calming gestures with her hands. “That’s why you need to help us, Kent. I know it’s not easy, but if you can hold it together, maybe we can work out where she is.”
I look into her sympathetic eyes and drop back into the chair, knowing she’s right.
She gives me a grateful nod. “We’ve gone through her father’s background, her time in London with him, her mother’s background, even her uncle’s.”
“Have you spoken to Richard Compton?”
“Yes, on the phone. He suggested we speak to Kelly Morgan, but I suspect she’s gone back to Belarus. She was Gemma’s Maid of Honour, wasn’t she? Do you think Gemma revealed details of her past to Kelly?”
I nod. “Do you think she’s behind the killings?”
“We haven’t dismissed the possibility, but it looks unlikely, unless she’s back.”
“She could have planted Gemma’s wedding and engagement ring by my car. It’s highly symbolic, wouldn’t you say, coming from a Maid of Honour?”
Foster swallows some of her coffee and shrugs. “Abducting and holding someone hostage isn’t as simple as it looks in films or on TV. Kelly Morgan would need help and somewhere private to hide Gemma.”
“Could it be someone who subscribes to bespoke DVDs? Someone fixated on Gemma?”
Foster settles back on the sofa, looking thoughtful. “We’re aware of Gemma’s career choices. It’s possible a client wanted more than she was prepared to give. He could have become jealous of her other clients and tried to monopolise her. He may have stalked her, fantasised about her, pestered her, become aggressive if she refused to see him.”
“Maybe she left London to get away from him.”
She pauses for more coffee. “I agree. Gemma left London and moved to Brighton to leave her past behind. Her stalker may have lost track of her.”
“Until someone sent him a new DVD, featuring Gorgeous Gemma.”
“Your wedding’s the more likely trigger.” Foster places the DVD to one side. “It was all over social media. Bryan Halliday contacted her on your honeymoon.”
“Yeah, but he’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Like Marshall.” Foster sighs, looking lost for a moment. “That was unexpected. So, let’s return to our stalker. You’re the man who stole Gemma from him. You had a big, glamorous wedding to rub his nose in it.” She looks up. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was at the wedding. I’m going to need all the photographs, Kent.”
The thought of the killer watching Gemma, making plans to abduct her, sends a chill through me.
“Can you think of anyone who has a grudge against you or your wife?”
I pause, distracted by Penn and Trudi returning.
“The stalker could be the person who sent Gemma the red gloves.”
“Of course.” She leans forward, becoming animated. “I knew I’d seen the room before.” She looks up at Penn. “In the photograph where Gemma was standing between Bryan Halliday and Eddie Marshall, it looked like they were in a hotel room, didn’t it?”
He gives a hesitant nod.
“It wasn’t a hotel,” I say, realising what she’s about to say.
“No, it was taken next door in Marshall’s house. He has a bedroom set up for filming.”
I nod, aware of the implications. If the person who took the photograph is the killer, he’s visited Marshall’s place before, maybe several times.
Forty-Seven
When we leave Trudi’s bungalow, Foster takes me to one side. She promises me she will examine the DVD to see if it offers any clues to possible suspects. “I’ll ask a female colleague in the Tech Team to analyse the disc for hidden files or anything that might help with the investigation. I can’t guarantee no one else will take a look, but I’ll do my best. Ashley will want to view the DVD, of course. Is that a problem?”
While I’d rather Ashley didn’t, I can hardly stop her. “Is she still here?”
