Chapter 15 - Saturday
"Sue! I've been trying and trying to get hold of you - have you just got back from the airport?" It was eight o'clock Saturday morning, and Imogen had dragged her boyfriend up two hours earlier to keep her company in her vigil. He was not amused, and had gone out for a run. He came in with the weekend paper just as Sue finally answered.
"Hi Imogen, how are you? What's up? I've literally just got in the door. Hang on, let me put the kettle on, and dump my case in the bedroom."
Noises off, while Imogen impatiently bounced about on the sofa in her flat. Her boyfriend, relaxing in the armchair opposite, watched her in fond amusement, then turned back to the sports pages. He was happier now the endorphins from his running had kicked in. Sue came back on the line. "Whew, what a journey - we were delayed at the airport, our flight was an hour and a half late taking off, and I lost my new sunglasses before we even got to the hotel. I tell you, that is absolutely the last time I agree to help my brother take those out-of-control kids of his on holiday. Heaven knows what they are allowed to get up to with their mother, but...."
Imogen interrupted her. "Sue, listen - you can tell me all that later. You'll never believe what's been happening here - Gerald Chewter was found dead in the basement and James Goswell has been arrested!"
"WHAT!"
Imogen could not have asked for a more dramatic reaction to her news. She told a startled Sue everything that had been happening at the Council offices, and even remembered that she should tell Sue to report to the police station to have her fingerprints taken.
"My fingerprints? Whatever for?"
"To be eliminated. I'm not sure, but I think there was something missing down in the archive room, not the one with the tunnel but the other one. They dusted for fingerprints and we're still not allowed down there. They've been turning the place upside down."
"You say he was found in the tunnel? Who found him?"
"Harry and Ben. Ben got a frightful telling off, because he put it all on Twitter and the news got hold of it that night. Clifftop FM, I mean. I think the police wanted to keep it quiet a bit longer." Imogen omitted to mention that she too had passed the news around on Facebook after she had received it.
"I can't believe James would kill anyone. When did they arrest him?"
"Thursday, after work. I didn't know, I left at five and they were still talking to him, but they took him down to the station after that. He wasn't in work Friday, so we reckoned he must have been arrested. I know, I can't believe it either. No-one can. And on Friday something was going on to do with Kim - the inspector talked to her for ages, and afterwards she finished early. She'd been crying."
"Probably upset all over again - you know, dragging up the way Chewter behaved after her husband left."
The conversation went on in the same vein for some time, examining everyone's reactions, and with a little light relief as Imogen described the beginning of the week. The photographer from the Frayminster Guardian had arrived to take the publicity photos for the Extreme Sports Weekend - Eve Thornton had dressed up as a water-skier, in a vivid lime green wetsuit. Melissa had been made to wear a skateboarder's outfit, complete with pink helmet and matching elbow and knee protection. Fiona had told them they looked ridiculous, which made them both turn mutinous exactly when the shots were taken. Eve asked for a second chance, but when the photos had appeared in the paper on Thursday, although by then no-one cared, the expression on Melissa's face belied the caption - "Extreme Fun this weekend for Pebbleton Youths!"
Finally Imogen rang off, as Sue was 'desperate for a wee'. After an hour Sue was organised enough to ring the police station and ask if they really needed her prints, or could it wait until Monday? She was asked to come in as soon as possible, and to bring her passport. "Blast," she muttered, and put her shoes back on. The phone rang again. It was Imogen.
"Sue, I just thought - another funny thing. Cuffy had disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?"
"Well, he didn't come in all week before you went away, but I didn't notice. I guess I thought he might have come in while I was at lunch. But he hasn't been in at all, I've asked everyone who's covered my lunches. I wondered if you could check, you know all sorts of people."
"OK," Sue sighed. "I'm off to the police station now, but I'll ask around on Monday. That's if the fuzz don't nab me once they match up my dabs to Light-Fingered Lulu, the Most Wanted Pick-Pocket of Pebbleton."
Imogen laughed. It was good to have Sue back.
At Frayminster police station Sue was escorted into a room and her fingerprints were taken, though it was explained to her that as she had been out of the country she was not a suspect. She showed her passport, and then she was taken to a seat in a corridor to wait. A cup of tea was brought to her, and she tried to occupy herself reading the posters on the walls. After fifteen minutes and a more intimate knowledge of just how long a stretch you could get for possession of Class A drugs, she was bored enough to ask a passing constable who she was waiting for. "Detective Inspector Helford," she was told.
Finally the Inspector appeared, and apologised for the delay. "I have a few questions for you, then I can let you get back home. I'm sure you must need the weekend to get organised ready for work on Monday. My wife always says she needs a full weekend."
Sue was impressed. She followed the inspector into an interview room, and was expecting a second officer to join them. None appeared, so she asked if he was supposed to interview her alone.
"You are not being interviewed under caution, Miss Cheam," the Inspector smiled. "All I want is your point of view, and you are under no obligation to answer if you don't want to. In fact you can go at any time."
"Sorry," Sue replied, relaxing. "I'm letting my imagination run away with me. This is all so strange - I had the most awful shock when Imogen rang to tell me what had happened."
"Tell me - were you very shocked that Mr Chewter should be killed?"
"Well, of course - I mean I'd be shocked that anyone would be killed that I knew. It's the sort of thing that happens on the news, but not to people you know. But to be honest, I was mostly shocked that you'd arrested James Goswell - I just cannot picture him killing anyone."
"Mr Goswell has not been arrested, Miss Cheam, merely questioned. Tell me your impressions of him." Helford sat back and waited.
"He's - well, he's too nice to kill anyone. He strikes me as someone who would shrink from violence. I mean, I couldn't even imagine him being nasty to someone on the phone." Sue stopped, thinking of the curious incident of the message left at Paula's school.
"Go on, please." Helford felt there was much this lady could tell him.
"He puts up with Fiona like a saint - honestly, she tries his patience, I can tell, but he doesn't like confrontation. So he says something to her that doesn't hurt her feelings, but it gets him out of her bad books. Very diplomatic, if you know what I mean."
"Does Fiona like him?"
Sue grinned. "You bet. When they had a Council social do in the spring, she dolled herself up and tried to sit next to him. It was dead funny, Paula told us. That's Councillor Rivers, she's a friend of mine. And she, Fiona I mean, likes to know where he is all the time. She pretends it's for work, but she gets upset if he goes missing lunch time and doesn't say where he's going."
"Tell me about your friend Paula Rivers."
"Oh. Well, she's like me; single, lives alone with a cat, you know. But she's really nice. She teaches at Frayminster College. And she hasn't really got a cat."
"And she likes James Goswell."
"How did you know?" Sue was astonished, and feared she had given away her friend's feelings without realising it.
"I didn't know for sure, but thanks for the confirmation," Helford grinned. "To tell you the truth, we thought she was a bit rattled when we asked her about him, so it was either love or hate. My guess was love. He is a good looking fellow, so I can und
erstand you young ladies falling in droves for him."
"Don't include me, I go for the nerdy type. Spectacles and huge brains, you know. And please don't say it was me who let on, she'll kill me," Sue pleaded. "She's not so keen on him these days, anyway."
"Why?"
Sue looked at him thoughtfully for a while. "If I tell you something, you can find out from phone records, right?"
"Depends what you tell me. This is a murder investigation, and if you know something that troubles you, it would be wise to tell us now."
"Well, on the day the Council were going to vote about the Development, Paula had a phone call. I mean there was a phone call to her school, but it was while she was teaching, so a message was left. A man said he was James, ringing to pressurise her about voting in favour of the Development. She had only just seen him at lunchtime, though not many people would have known that. He was nice as pie then, and never said anything about how she should vote. I don't believe he rang at all, I think someone used his name and tried to influence her. She was dreadfully upset, because as you rightly deduce, she likes - liked him a lot."
Sue paused for thought, then continued, "He's a tricky one to catch, but Paula was getting somewhere with him. When he came, loads of the women in the area tried to get his attention - you should have seen them, any excuse under the sun. It was hilarious." She was warming to her theme now, and the Inspector let her talk.
"He was invited to every social event they could conjure up - he sat round the camp fire with Brown Owl and her Brownies, he got free tickets to the Am-Dram production, he even got asked to be on the board of governors of the infant's school, though he's single and childless! Every female who came into the Council wanted to see him personally. Fluttering their eyelashes and wearing short skirts, honestly, it was farcical. But Paula, well, she met him legitimately, through her work as a Councillor. She just did what she does, worked hard for the Parish, and didn't throw herself at him. I reckon he was getting fond of her, but when this flaming phone call thing happened, she got upset and wouldn't talk to him. Is there any chance you could check it out and find who really rang the school? Then you might have a clue who is really up to no good around here."
"And forward the course of true love, to boot." Helford pulled his notebook towards him and wrote down 'Frayminster College'. "When did you say this was?" he asked.
Sue gave him the date of the Council meeting, and the times Paula worked. He promised to do what he could to check.
"Miss Rivers said nothing of this when we interviewed her."
"No, well, she wouldn't, would she? For one thing, she wouldn't dream you'd suspect James of killing Chewter - I mean it is ridiculous - but also she wouldn't want to make him look bad. She's still in love, I think."
"Tell me about Mr Chewter."
"Yuk. None of us liked him, he gave you the creeps. We called him Perilous Gerald. We were under Fiona, of course, so we didn't work directly for him, but he made life unpleasant for Kim. Imogen told me you'd talked to her on Friday, and upset her. Please don't imagine she would do anything to Chewter either, she's a lovely person, and she's had a hard time since Steve went. She's my other best friend, and I know her very well. You can take my word for it, she had nothing to do with this."
"Right, Miss Cheam, as you wish. But you could tell me who I should suspect, seeing as you have definite ideas as to who I should not be looking at?"
"What, you mean, who do I think killed Chewter? Lord knows, probably his tailor. He wore clothes so badly it was a crime against fashion. No, seriously, I don't know enough about his private life to have a clue. He was sleazy enough at work, so he probably did something unspeakable that got him killed. That's my guess. Look into his private life, because I honestly don't see anyone in the Council doing a thing like that."
"And yet, Miss Cheam, it is there I have to look. Someone in the Council offices, or connected in some way, placed the body where it was found. And that means keys, and access codes for the alarms. If anything comes to mind, please tell us as soon as possible."
"Hmmmm. I will. But you're wrong about James. Find out who rang the school, and that will be a start."
Helford was amused that this pert lady was telling him how to do his job, but she was clear-thinking, so he valued her opinion. After she had gone he sat for a while, considering the strange story of the phone call. It didn't sit right with his understanding of the way the Council worked. The Clerk was supposed to remain impartial to the proceedings.
He wondered also how long it would take before Sue Cheam found out what had been discussed on Friday with her 'other best friend'. The police had been taking details from Kim which led to the identification of one of the bodies behind the wall. Helford had looked at the file on Steve Coulthard's disappearance, and had spotted that the time of his departure from home was twenty hours before the call to the police regarding strange noises at, or under, Southcliff Hall. According to the file Steve had a tattoo on his right arm. The design and placement matched, but to be completely sure Kim was called in to the mortuary later on Friday to make a final identification. It had been gruesome and dreadful, as she couldn't be shown any more than the arm. Despite the careful way the sheets had been placed over the body, the experience was so traumatic for Kim that she had collapsed, and was now in hospital, under sedation.
Joey Fisher's mother had not been able to confirm that her son had a gold tooth, or painted toenails, but they were working on tracking down his dentist. Helford was sure in his own mind that the other body was Joey. He did not intend to release any information about the two extra bodies until they were both identified, so they could get a true reaction when the news was broken.
He got up and went down to the room where James Goswell was being held. He and Dean had been questioning him on and off since letting him go home Thursday evening, then had brought him in again Friday. An unmarked car had watched the block of flats to make sure that he did not take off. He was asked to come in again Saturday, and duly turned up at the police station at nine, just as if he was arriving for work. It made no difference, he still remained all but silent. "No comment," was alternating with "No, I did not." Helford was frustrated that he couldn't get any further with the question of the faked CV. James insisted he had nothing to do with Chewter's murder, and Helford was inclined to believe him. Yet every time he asked James: "Have you ever owned a gun?" he got: "No comment."
Dean was having a day at home now, so Helford got Sergeant Judy Smith to accompany him to the interview room where James was sitting waiting behind a table. They both sat down and faced James. He looked tired, but determined.
"I have been given some new information, Mr Goswell," he began. "On the day of the Council meeting when the Development was discussed, voted on and passed, can you tell me your movements?"
James looked amazed, confused, and then suspicious. "The day of the meeting....I don't understand."
Helford repeated the details, giving the date, and asked James' movements again.
James frowned, then slowly began his account. "I had an ordinary sort of day at work, then after the staff had gone home I had something to eat in the staff room, and waited for the Councillors to arrive. Then we had the meeting - the Minutes are available if you want them - then afterwards some of us went for a drink in the Gull Inn. That's it, really - nothing remarkable."
"Can you give me more details on the earlier part of the day? Say from the late morning onwards?" Helford requested.
"Er, I can't remember much about the morning - let's see, Fiona always keeps me busy, so she could tell you better than me. She keeps a diary, why don't you ask her?"
"Mr Goswell, you must be able to remember such an important day. Your future hung on it, in a sense - most folk around here feel that the village would have little future as a separate entity if the Development had not gone through."
"Well, yes, that's true - most of the C
ouncillors felt that, certainly."
"Not all? Did some object, oppose the Development?"
"Yes, there were one or two who voted against or abstained."
"Did that upset you?"
"Upset me? No, of course not. They have to vote according to their understanding of the situation, and their own vision of the future. Some feared the Development would ruin the village."
"So feelings ran high that day. Did you, for example, have lunch with any of the Councillors, to discuss the Development?"
"No, I didn't feel I should - oh, wait, I sort of did, actually. Only it wasn't like that. I went for a walk after lunch with Councillor Rivers. We talked about the Development, but - well, it was more of a social thing. Not really business. We are - were - friends."
"You were friends? Not now?"
"I can't explain, but she hasn't been the same since that meeting. She got shirty with me afterwards, seemed to think I wanted the Development to go through just so I could keep my job. I don't know where she got that idea. She's been funny with me ever since."
Helford sat looking at James for a minute. This was the first topic that had got him talking - was he telling the truth or cleverly pretending to be innocent? "You have no idea why she got upset with you?"
"No. Honestly - I'm levelling with you - it has been on my mind. I thought about asking her, but - well, I chickened out."
Helford sat looking at this puzzle of a man. He owned up to being a chicken in his relationship with a woman, but wouldn't budge when he was facing a charge of murder. In fact, after two days of questioning, he had co-operated as far as coming in to the police station, then remained obstinate in his refusal to answer questions. What game was he playing?
"We'll look at Miss Carvell's diary, just to know what you were doing in the afternoon. Perhaps you do remember, perhaps it was that day you phoned Miss Rivers at her work?"
"Phoned her at work? I've never phoned her at work!" James blurted out.
"Never? Sure? Not even to leave a message?"
"No! She works at a school, she's a teacher. If I've ever had to ring her I call her home number, she gets in about four thirty usually. Anyway, I saw her that day at lunchtime. Why would I need to ring her? I was going to see her at the meeting that evening!"
"I see. So if I told you that someone called her school, purporting to be you, and left a message to pressure her to vote a certain way that evening, how would you explain that?"
James sat staring, his mouth slightly open. Helford thought that he must be innocent of this charge. If not, he was a real Oscar-winner.
James collected his thoughts. "I can't explain it. It wasn't me, and I have no idea who would do such a thing. But it does make sense of why she was so upset." His head turned, and he looked at the wall, thinking. "So all this time, she's thought......well, no wonder she's been so odd."
"Look, Mr Goswell, I don't want to keep questioning you, but unless you give me a good reason to stop suspecting you, I can't take my eye off you. For all I know, you may be a homicidal maniac. You gave the Council a faked CV, so you wanted to get a job here for some reason - perhaps to have access to kill, or to recover some evidence of previous crimes. We don't even know if James Goswell is your real name."
"It is. And you obviously have no real evidence against me, or you would arrest me."
"Not yet. But your behaviour is absurd if you are innocent. Look at your CV - I can't tell which parts are true and which are false. Certainly you never worked for the steel company, or the other two - let me see, Corbis Enterprises, and Netwell Systems, wasn't it? If you were going to make up a CV, you would have done better to invent companies that don't actually exist. They do, and they'd never heard of you."
"I didn't make up my CV."
"Clearly you did, Mr Goswell, and...." At this point the door opened and a constable beckoned, making signs that the Inspector was wanted on the phone. The interview was suspended.
Helford and Judy Smith left James to think under the eye of the constable, and Helford went to pick up the extension in his office. The call was put through. He stood listening, made notes as instructed by the person on the line, and put the phone down. Then he sat down slowly, and looked at the notes. "Unbelievable," he muttered. He picked up the phone again and dialled the number given. As expected, the call was answered by a government employee, who put him through to the extension he requested. "I'm glad you called back," the quiet voice told him.
Helford could do nothing then but listen respectfully. He made one or two notes, but it was pointless. The quiet voice talked on, and Helford thanked him for the information. "You're welcome. Give Simo.?er, James my regards," was the reply.
After a minute or two, he got up wearily, and made his way to the room where James sat waiting. Sergeant Judy Smith hurried along the corridor to join him, but he stopped her. "It's all right. We don't need to question Mr Goswell any further. I'm sorry, I can't explain more than that. But I've just been told that we have made a mistake. I'm letting him go."
Judy frowned, but left him to speak to James alone. Helford dismissed the constable, closed the door behind him and sat down. "I've just had a call from your handler. He was told that I'd rung one of your 'previous employers', and they had faltered in their story."
James relaxed visibly, letting out a long breath through his teeth. "Took him long enough," was his only comment.
"Yes, he apologised - he was away and they couldn't get hold of him immediately. He sends his regards. Why couldn't you have told me?"
"Would you have believed me? Anyway, you must know I couldn't. For one thing you began to question me in pairs, and it was always possible that I'd been set up - by you, for all I knew."
"You didn't know who you could trust, is that what you mean?"
"Exactly. You get paranoid in that game - you can't allow yourself to trust anyone. I'm supposed to be out of it - I resigned years ago - but you're never completely out. Something like this happens, and you wonder if it's part of some revenge on you for an earlier situation."
"I'm not sure I understand."
James sighed, leaning back in the chair and gazing at the ceiling. Reluctantly he began his story. "I was involved in missions that put me in contact with some very evil people, Inspector. They, in turn, were part of organised crime, networked all over the world. I've had problems before - I lived in a remote part of Scotland, using a different name, and yet somehow I was recognised. Before long I received threats, and the people I was staying with had their garage torched. I moved on for their sakes, and I've kept moving ever since."
"Until - well, last year the Department made a serious effort to help me get my life restarted, and find a job. They faked my CV, and got Corbis and Netwell to give me a reference. They are both contractors supplying the MOD. They also threw in a government department that does little else but create new identities for people. I looked up Pebbleton on Google Earth before I went for this job, and liked the remoteness of it. I mean, it's a quiet backwater, no important people live here, I thought there was a chance I could re-invent myself. James Goswell is my real, original, name, but not the name I used in my former career. I applied for this job, and the referees pretended I'd been employed there, and gave me a reference. I suppose they didn't think they had to do anything after that."
Helford nodded. "They fell down on the job, but as you say, they probably didn't think you needed more backup. Look, I don't need to keep you here now that this is explained - but I would like to talk to you again as the investigation proceeds."
"Certainly, I'll do all I can to help. I don't know what I can tell you though, I never really knew Chewter. Unless you're thinking that some old enemy of mine has done this to flush me out?"
"No - this all began a long time before you arrived in Pebbleton," the Inspector murmured.
"Really? You have some line on the motive then?"
&n
bsp; "Er, no," Helford replied. "There has been a development. You'll hear about it soon enough. But look, I want to get to this Extreme Sports Day, my sons are doing some of the events. I'll probably see you there, shall I?"
James rose from the table. "Yes, I suppose I can go along - my staff will be quite amazed to see me, I'm sure they believe you've clapped me in irons. Mind you, I'll be trying to avoid the photographers."
"Very wise," Helford agreed. "You might want to thank a certain member of your staff, a Miss Cheam. She put me on to the problem of the phone call to Frayminster College, you know, for Paula Rivers." He watched James' face carefully, and sure enough, a tiny blush crept up the cheeks of the other man.
"Sue Cheam? I wonder how she knew about it? Oh, she is good friends with Paula now I come to think of it. And I suppose women tell each other everything, don't they? That's why very few of them were ever taken on in my former profession!"
Helford smiled. "And to think I kept asking if you'd ever owned a gun."
"Too many guns, Inspector," James replied grimly. The men shook hands, and Helford opened the door. He stood back, allowing the man who at one time had held a relatively higher rank to pass through first. As they passed the desk Helford called out to Judy Smith, "I'm leaving now, off to Pebbleton to the Extreme Sports. Call me if you need me." Judy nodded, and watched with interest as the tall, handsome man beside her boss walked swiftly to the exit. He moved well, striding like an athlete, so that Helford had to trot to keep up with him. The body language between the two men indicated a new-found mutual respect. She was puzzled, but rather pleased. She too had been falling under the spell of those brown eyes during the hours she had sat beside Helford watching him question James.
James decided to change into some more casual clothes before appearing at the Event. He needed to blend into the crowd. Photographers would be everywhere, especially as the murder had put Pebbleton on the map. He had worn a sombre suit to the Frayminster police station, hoping that no press cameras lay in wait. He felt much better now - somehow the decency of the Inspector had given him hope that he could maybe stay in his job, in the little place he was growing to appreciate. Putting down roots, that would be nice. For the first time in his life, all sorts of pleasant possibilities seemed ahead of him. At the earliest opportunity, he told himself, he must find Paula and get this odd business of the phone call cleared up. He felt like skipping down the street - life was good!