Under a Silent Moon: A Novel (33 page)

“I’m saying someone pushed the car over.”

“Is that possible?”

The debate was interrupted by Hamilton’s mobile phone bringing the
Exorcist
theme loud and clear into the equation. “Sorry,” he muttered, and headed for the door at the back. “DI Hamilton. Yes, hold on.”

Meanwhile the room erupted with people interjecting on similar cases they’d experienced in the past, cases involving automatic cars and manual ones, the degree of the incline, the lack of a barrier or a fence between the car park and the edge of the quarry.

Lou raised her voice above the noise. “People, can we simply review the evidence for a moment? The
evidence
, not speculation. We know from forensics that Barbara Fletcher-Norman was inside Yonder Cottage when Polly was dead or dying from her wounds. We don’t have any other identifiers for any other person around the time of death. So Barbara was definitely there. And the murder weapon ended up in the same place she did.”

“Yeah,” said Jason, “but
after
she was dead.”

“Then we’re looking for an accomplice?” Jane Phelps said.

“Hold on, Jane—we have evidence she was there, not evidence that she did it.”

“Same thing,” Jane muttered.

There was a pause.

“Right,” Jason said. “I’m done.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Lou said. “Barry, can we look at nominals next? Les, we’ll come on to the CCTV in a minute.”

Mutters from the room.

“Right, then,” Barry Holloway began. “I’m expecting a bit of discussion around these, along the lines of things we were talking about. Just to be clear, these are nominals we’re interested in for the murder of Polly Leuchars. We’re not talking about Barbara going over the edge of the quarry.” He gave a nod to Jason, who obligingly clicked over to a new slide.

“We have circumstantial evidence linking all of these people to the victim and the crime. Barbara, obviously. We have the forensic evidence linking her to the scene, and the murder weapon linked to the location of her death, even if it definitely wasn’t her that threw it over the edge of the quarry. In addition, we have a pretty strong motive in that Barbara was convinced that Polly was having an affair with her husband. Despite her own marital infidelity, it seems from Lorna Newman’s statement that she was more upset by this affair than by previous ones because of Polly’s proximity to their home address.

“Secondly, Nigel Maitland. We have had intelligence that he had had an affair with Polly. We have forensic evidence that he had been upstairs in Yonder Cottage, but since he is the owner of the property and technically her landlord, we cannot assume anything from this. We have intel to suggest that Nigel’s activities have moved closer to home recently, and in particular that he took delivery of some illegal immigrants at the farm on the night of thirty-first October. It’s possible that Polly became mixed up in this, either as a witness or as a participant, and that she became dangerous to the criminal operation as a result. We know from an ANPR capture that Nigel Maitland’s car was in town at the same time as Polly during that day, and we have CCTV footage showing Polly meeting someone—more on that in a minute. Seems possible this could be Nigel.

“Thirdly, Brian Fletcher-Norman. His daughter has confirmed that he told her he had had an affair with Polly, but he has denied this to us on two occasions. We have forensics linking him to the downstairs at Yonder Cottage, but again he may have had legitimate cause to visit the cottage as he took riding lessons with Polly. There is nothing to indicate the forensics there are recent. We have a witness statement suggesting that a woman matching Polly’s description was in a small blue vehicle in a lay-by or driveway on Cemetery Lane at about eleven thirty on the evening of thirty-first October. Having examined the layout of the Lane, it seems that, realistically, this can only be the driveway of Hayselden Barn, as the witness describes it being near to a bend. It’s possible that Polly had given Brian a lift home from somewhere, and that it was him she was arguing with. Polly’s car was a dark blue Nissan Micra, which would fit the description of the vehicle seen by the witness. If it was Brian, then there is an indication that they knew each other rather better than he has described to us, and also that on the evening Polly was killed they had some sort of disagreement or argument.”

“It could have been Nigel in the car,” Ali said. “Don’t forget we had his fingerprints in there.”

“Yes,” Jane said. “It could have been either of them—or someone else entirely.”

“Hold on a sec,” Lou said. “Ivan Rollinson at the Lemon Tree said Polly left the pub no earlier than eleven thirty.”

There was an almost-audible groan from the group. “She’s right,” said Whitmore.

“We need to chase that up. Either one of them has the time wrong, or it’s not Polly in the car. She can’t be in two places at the same time. Sorry, Barry—carry on.”

“Right. Well, that’s about it for Brian. The only other thing to consider is the heart attack—it came on when the officers were telling him about his wife’s body being found, but he said in the interview with the DCI that he was feeling bad when he woke up. It’s worth considering whether he had had more of a stressful night than he led us to believe.

“Next—Flora Maitland. Another one who had a relationship with Polly. By all accounts she’s been pretty distraught following Polly’s death, but who knows how she really felt? She doesn’t have any alibi for the relevant time; she could well have gone back to Yonder Cottage to confront Polly and ended up being a bit too physical with her.”

“Where’s the DI gone?” Lou asked suddenly. Hamilton hadn’t returned since taking the call on his mobile. There was a general shaking of heads, and she tutted with annoyance. “Anyone else want to comment on Flora?”

Jane Phelps cleared her throat. “I don’t think it’s her, ma’am. I think she’s in bits over Polly’s death. When Sam was taking her prints at the farm, she said Flora was barely holding it together.”

“That brings us to the woman Brian is supposed to be seeing, according to his daughter. She claims he told her he was having an affair with someone called Suzanne, who Polly had introduced him to. Suzanne had also had a relationship with Polly. Mrs. Lewis says she was asked by her father to contact this Suzanne and tell her that he was in the hospital, which she did. She knows nothing else about her.”

“The number appears on Brian’s phone as ‘Manchester office,’ ” Jason said. “Has anyone checked to see whether she’s someone he works with?”

“I did,” Ron Mitchell said. “The company Brian works for is a global shipping company. They don’t have an office in Manchester. Someone was going to contact their clients, subsidiaries, to check—I haven’t chased them yet. I also checked that Brian was at work that day, as he said he was. The woman I spoke to agreed he left the London office at around six thirty on Wednesday; allowing for traffic, he would have been home around eight.”

“Was Brian asked about this Suzanne when you saw him, ma’am?” Jane asked. She was taking notes.

Lou shook her head. “Didn’t get around to that one. Didn’t want to antagonize him, he’s got a real downer on his daughter. Every time you mention her he goes on about what a liar she is.”

“He’s a charmer, isn’t he?” Jane said.

“Yes, he is rather. Still, rest assured, it’s on the list of things we need to know once we get the medical thumbs-up.”

Hamilton opened the door and tried to get back to his seat quietly. The room was full and he had to climb over several pairs of knees to get there, muttering “Sorry” every time.

“Can we carry on now the DI’s back?” Lou said.

“That’s my bit done,” Barry said. “Les has got the CCTV.”

“Les?”

Les Finnegan turned his attention to the laptop. “Can someone kill the lights for me, please?”

The room was duly plunged into semidarkness. “Right, we’ve got three different files here so it’s going to take a good few minutes if you want to see the lot, but I think it’s important that you do.”

The first file loaded and the image of the high street, the bench in the bottom right, filled the screen. Some of the detail was lost by projecting it to that size, but it was reasonably good quality.

There was complete silence as the first file ran. At the end of it, someone said, “Poor old Polly. She got stood up a lot that last day, didn’t she?”

There was a ripple of laughter.

“Right,” Les said, loading the second file, “watch closely, this one’s really quick.”

There was an audible leaning forward in chairs at the footage of Polly running through the shopping center, mobile phone clamped to her ear.

“That it?” said Hamilton.

“Nearly done. One more to see,” Les said, loading the third file.

This time the silence lasted only a few seconds into the footage.

“Shame about that bloody glare.”

“Can’t see fuck all. Sorry, Boss.”

“She’s waiting for someone,” came a voice from the back.

“Well, duh, of course she is.”

“Wait for it,” Les said.

The dark-clad figure appeared from the left and Polly rushed into that embrace. When they realized they were witnessing a kiss, there was a little uncomfortable shuffling and a low wolf whistle from the back of the room.

“Who
is
that?” Jane said.

“Not Felicity?”

“No, you muppet, that’s a bloke. Look at the shoulders.”

“It’s Barbara. She had a jacket like that.”

“Barbara’s snogging Polly? I don’t think so.”

“It looks like Nigel Maitland to me,” Ali Whitmore said. “Besides, I’d bet money he knows where all the CCTV cameras are in town.”

“That’s all,” Finnegan said. “Shall we put the lights back up?”

The lights were turned on and everyone settled in their seats, blinking.

“I’ve got stills of the figure in the last file,” Les said, “if you want to pass them round.”

He handed a pile of prints to Hamilton, who sat for a moment perfectly still, holding them, looking at the picture.

“Recognize someone?” Lou said. “Andy?”

“Sorry, Boss,” he said with a start. “Lost in thought for a minute there.” He took the top sheet and passed the rest behind him to Ali.

“I’ve got the still on the Op Nettle briefing slide, so all the patrols can see it,” Les said. “Someone is bound to recognize who it is sooner or later.

“Okay, everyone, settle down, please. We’ve still got the intel requirement to get through. Barry?”

Barry Holloway cleared his throat. He was starting to sound hoarse. “Intel requirement—firstly Brian Fletcher-Norman. We need to clarify his account. Suggest to him that he was out for at least part of the evening, see what comes back from that. Also need to challenge his denial of having an affair with Polly. We need to find additional intelligence to corroborate Mrs. Lewis’s statement. I suggest that house-to-house is also completed for the entire route between Hayselden Barn and the quarry—not just for sightings of Barbara’s car, I know that was completed.

“Secondly—and I know this is a tough one—we need to get more intel out of Nigel Maitland. We need to know what he was doing in town on the thirty-first. Did he see Polly while he was out? He might have seen her and recognized the woman she was with. You never know your luck.”

“We’ll need to get his solicitor on board,” Lou said. “What’s his name? That infernal little man with the aftershave . . .”

“Lorenzo,” Hamilton obliged.

“That’s it. Well, we’ll give it a go.”

“Thirdly, we need to press on with the identification of the person in the CCTV. Find out who it is and why Polly was meeting him or her.”

He paused for a moment. Lou looked up. “Anything else?”

“I think someone needs to interview Taryn Lewis again,” he went on. He was definitely losing his voice.

Lou gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Barry. I know you worked really hard to get this all finished for this morning. I appreciate it.”

She stood and faced the room again, left hand on her hip tucked under her jacket pocket. “Sam’s on late turn today, so let’s sort out some work for you lot to do, shall we?”

09:25

Hamilton left the briefing room, trying to catch Lou’s attention. “Boss, can I have a word?” he asked, as she marched past behind Jason.

“I’ve got to go to a meeting with the superintendent—can it wait, Andy? About an hour or so, I think?”

He hesitated, then gave her a smile. “Sure. I’ll catch up with you later.” She breezed past.

He had been assigned to supervise the second round of house-to-house for the route from Hayselden Barn to the quarry. He had a team, including a whole bunch of probationers who were champing at the bit to get out there and do some “real” police work; so, realistically, it shouldn’t take long if they could find anyone at home. He could think of more exciting things to do, he thought, heading out. Today had started off so well, waking up late to the noise of the children and the smell of breakfast cooking. And whatever the rest of the day brought, he couldn’t be late home tonight. He’d promised Karen he’d take her and the kids to the Guy Fawkes Night display at the local fire station. Ben loved fireworks.

But on the passenger seat of the car, slightly out of his line of vision, was the grainy still shot taken from the CCTV.
Was
it her? It was something about the shape, the physique, that reminded him of her. And then there were those red gloves.

He shook his head, telling himself not to be ridiculous. It was because he couldn’t get her out of his head, that was all. It was far more likely to be Nigel Maitland, or someone else entirely.

09:45

The Stuart Ward had taken on rather a desolate air for Brian. The bed directly across from him stood empty, its occupant having died yesterday. At least that one had gone quietly. Last night the man in the neighboring bed had also chosen to depart, but in a rather more spectacular fashion. Some heart monitor had alerted the nurses, who came at full tilt with their equipment. That, no doubt, was why they called it a crash trolley, since it had collided with Brian’s bed on the way past, waking him up and giving him the fright of his life.