Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(18)

‘There are a few. We’ll get the CCTV.’

‘I suppose if they had a buggy waiting they could have changed him anywhere on the park, there’s a lot of tree cover. We need officers asking questions of anyone who crosses the park and see if there is any mobile phone footage that could be useful.

What were the impressions from the statements taken from the staff at the Observatory?’

‘That Toby is a loner. He is well thought of, quiet. Very keen on his work.’

‘Does he socialize at all?’

‘Yes, with his workmate Gareth Turnbill, who phoned him before the walk.’

Carter looked at his phone as it vibrated on silent on the table top. He raised his eyes to Willis as he answered the call.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Can you talk?’ Bowie asked.

‘Go ahead.’

‘I’ve had a call from the Home Secretary regarding Jeremy Forbes-Wright. I started asking questions about his reasons for deciding not to run for the Kent constituency and was warned off. The Home Secretary said that Jeremy had debts and liked a lavish lifestyle. He wasn’t keen to relocate to Kent. He would have had to sell his house in Cornwall to do it. So he decided that wasn’t an option and withdrew his candidacy a week before he killed himself.’

‘Is this something to concern us?’

‘The phone call came pretty quickly from the Home Secretary. Even so, it may have nothing to do with Samuel’s disappearance. But he was a high-profile man, he had debts and people would assume he had money. Maybe someone’s been a bit hasty in taking Samuel before the house in Cornwall is sold.’

‘What do you want to do about it? Willis and I were thinking we should talk to the people who came up from Cornwall for the funeral. We could take a look at his house down there?’

‘Absolutely. Get it searched, low-key. I don’t want my arse roasted and I don’t want a feeding-frenzy from the press.’

‘Are you going to request more information from the Home Secretary?’ asked Carter.

‘Is the Pope a Catholic? We’ll discuss later. What time can you get to me?’

‘We have a couple of jobs to attend to, then I’ll be over.’

‘I’ll be at the bar.’ Bowie rang off.





Chapter 8


‘Okay.’ Carter drank up the last of his wine. ‘We ready to pay a visit to Toby’s workmate? We have a lot to get through this evening and the boss wants to see me.’

‘Ready.’ Willis did up her jacket, packed up her case and followed Carter outside onto the cobbled street.

‘Christ . . .’ Carter pulled up his collar and tucked his chin into his scarf as the bitter wind hit him. ‘You need to get a proper coat for this weather, Eb. That thing you’re wearing’s seen better days.’

‘It’s fine, guv. Honestly.’ She rolled her eyes.

They reached the black BMW. Willis got into the passenger seat and Carter started the engine. Before pulling out he picked out a tissue from the compartment between the seats. He handed it across to Willis, who hadn’t managed to stop sniffing since they’d met. Carter knew there was no point in telling her she needed to wrap up warmer. She was a hardy animal. She might not think she felt the cold but her nose dripped like a tap.

‘Thanks.’ She took it and gave one wipe of the nose, then stuffed the tissue into her pocket and sniffed loudly again. The gap in Ebony’s social etiquette was too big to fill and yet it didn’t amount to anything in real terms. She ate off her knife. She ate with her fingers. She piled ketchup on everything.

‘There it is, guv.’

They pulled up across the street from the house and walked towards the neat front garden, split by a path running down the centre.

‘This area costs a fortune to live in,’ said Willis. ‘You can see the new money along here.’

‘Whereas this place looks like it’s been a while since it saw a paintbrush. Looks like it has probably been in the family a long time. The front garden has that look of someone older’s planting,’ mused Carter.

‘How do you know one plant from another?’

‘My mum loves her garden. She’s always working on colour schemes,’ answered Carter. ‘We took her to Chelsea Flower Show last year – she loved it. This wouldn’t be risky enough for her. There’s a lot of variegated shrubs, bark; this is a low-maintenance garden.’

Carter knocked on the door. A woman in her late sixties answered.

Carter showed his badge. ‘Mrs Turnbill?’ She nodded, looking from one officer to the other. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Dan Carter, this is Detective Constable Willis. Is Gareth in? Could we have a word with him, please?’

‘Gareth?’

‘Yes, nothing to worry about, it’s just about where he works.’

‘It’s closed today.’

‘Yes, we know, we are part of the investigation surrounding it.’ Carter smiled again. ‘Gareth?’ Willis took a step closer to the door to give Mrs Turnbill a hint.

‘Yes, please, come in.’ She stood out of the way for them to pass.

‘Thank you.’ Carter wiped his feet on the mat. ‘Would you like us to take our shoes off?’

‘God, no! We’ve got stone floors – your feet’ll freeze. Follow me.’