Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(54)

‘I really must advise you to have a solicitor present, Mr Broome, considering the seriousness of your situation and the nature of the discovery beneath your property, namely, Windrush, at Roman Creek.’

Broome looked straight at him. ‘Detective Chief Inspector, I am more than willing to answer your questions. What you have discovered is horrible, absolutely devastating. I am as shocked and overwhelmed as you, maybe more, because that place was intended as a sanctuary, a place of peace and tranquillity.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘What chance of peace now, when I know that some evil person has used it to commit such terrible deeds?’

Benedict Broome was well-built, in that good food and fine wine kind of way. He wore expensive clothes, and he had the confident air of a successful businessman.

‘And of course I don’t want to hold things up for you or myself. Frankly, whether a solicitor is present or not, I can only tell you what I know, and be assured that I will not hold back, and it will be the truth.’

He sat back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. Jackman took his time to reply.

Marie watched them both carefully. Broome was erudite, obviously had a clear understanding of the law, and was very different to most of the “clients” that passed through this room. Jackman was clearly taking all that into consideration.

‘Very well, sir. May I ask you whether it has been explained to you clearly why you are here today?’

Broome confirmed that he was fully aware that an abducted young woman and a number of bodies had been discovered beneath one of the outbuilding and yard areas of Windrush. As the owner of the property, he and the people who worked for him would naturally have to be questioned.

‘Were you aware of the tunnels beneath your property, sir?’ asked Marie.

‘Only by way of historical legend. All old houses like Windrush have secrets, don’t they? Priest holes, secret rooms and passages, sometimes cellars and yes, quite possibly tunnels. Although it has to be said that there are very few in the fenland, since it is reclaimed land. Windrush is built on a small rocky outcrop, supposedly once an island. That is what makes it so unusual.’ He scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘There is most certainly a sealed door from the main cellar, but that was cemented up long before I took possession. Given the age of the building, I’m sure it isn’t the only one.’

Marie frowned. ‘But surely you had extensive surveys done when the plans were drawn up for your rebuilding work?’

‘Yes, DS Evans, I did. But as I understand it, the underground room that contains the bodies is not part of my present programme. If everything went well and finances allowed, then I intended to go ahead with two more stages. That area would have been Stage Three, and no plans or surveys have been undertaken yet.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘And now they never will.’

‘What is your occupation, sir?’ Jackman asked abruptly.

‘I’m in the financial world. I trade the markets.’

‘So you have considerable funds at your disposal?’

‘I’m comfortable, although there’s never enough, DI Jackman.’ Broome gave a slight smile. ‘Especially with a money-pit the size of Windrush.’

‘And you really won it in a wager?’ asked Marie.

‘I really did.’

‘So you’re a gambler?’

‘I’ve already said that I trade the markets. That certainly makes me a risk-taker, you can call it gambling if you like.’

Marie looked at him with interest. He sounded cultured and self-assured.

‘Were you born around here, sir?’ Jackman asked.

‘No, I’m not Fenland born and bred. I was born in the West Country and my family later settled in Cambridgeshire.’

‘And your parents?’ Marie asked, noticing that Jackman was watching Broome intently.

‘Long dead,’ he said, with no emotion in his voice. ‘They died when I was in my late teens.’

‘So who looked after you?’

‘I had help from those around me, and luckily there was money. But to a point, I looked after myself.’ He sat forward, elbows resting casually on the table between them. ‘Things happen. You just have to get on and deal with them, don’t you? I survived, that’s what counts.’

‘So what brought you to the Fens?’

‘My solicitors and I spent years trying to unravel the complexities of my family’s estate, and some while back I discovered that I owned the property in Admiralty Row. I saw it, liked it, and that was that. I re-housed the tenants and moved in.’

He sounded so plausible. Marie wished she had Rosie’s ability to read people.

There was silence as the two police officers wondered how to proceed.

Marie looked at her notes. Should she throw in a question about the singing? She decided against it. It would be too easy for Broome to lie, and she wasn’t quite ready to play that card just yet.

Jackman looked fixedly at Broome. ‘Your man out at Windrush, Micah Lee. He seemed rather edgy when we spoke to him. Would you know why?’

‘Apparently Micah Lee had an accident when he was small, and it left him with learning difficulties. He is a good, strong, manual worker, but doesn’t have much in the way of academic ability. I felt sorry for him, and the job out at my property has given him something to focus on. And he’s extremely loyal.’