Faith - Lesley Pearse [218]
But Donaldson wasn’t too concerned about that crime. Forensic science and Macgregor’s evidence were enough to convict Belle for it. What he wanted was to get at the truth about the murder of Jackie Davies. He was inclined to believe Macgregor’s theory that the trouble between the two sisters sparked off because Charles was the hit-and-run driver who killed Barney Brannigan, but so long after the event it would be well-nigh impossible to prove.
The press were having a field day now Laura Brannigan’s conviction looked unsafe, and Donaldson knew only too well that the investigation for the 1993 murder had been flawed and shoddy. But that could be brushed under the carpet if the right culprit was brought to trial quickly. And if it needed trickery to do that, he didn’t care.
‘No one at the golf club can verify you were definitely on the course that morning,’ Donaldson said.
‘I was at the golf club,’ Charles insisted. ‘You know I was there too because one of your men telephoned me there to tell me about my sister-in-law’s death.’
‘Yes, we know you were there in the afternoon. The usual bunch that prop up the bar confirm that, just as they could tell me exactly what time you left the clubhouse the day you stabbed Stuart Macgregor. They seem to watch one another like hawks up there, yet not one person remembered seeing you between eleven and two on the day Jackie Davies was killed.’
‘I was there and I didn’t stab Macgregor either,’ Charles shouted back. ‘That was Belle!’
‘Come now, Charlie boy, Macgregor is a big man – a little woman like Belle couldn’t do that much damage to him!’
‘I was holding him with his arms behind his back, trying to throw him out,’ Charles said heatedly. ‘I asked Belle to open the front door but instead she lunged at him with the knife.’
This was of course exactly what Macgregor had said, so Donaldson knew Charles was telling the truth. ‘But if you didn’t stab him, why didn’t you call an ambulance for him?’ he asked.
Charles hung his head. ‘I don’t know. I wanted to but Belle wouldn’t have it. I suppose I panicked.’
‘You panicked because you stabbed him and you knew it would come out that you’d killed your sister-in-law too. You drove his car back to Edinburgh, knowing he was lying in your cellar bleeding to death. And if he hadn’t escaped, you would have disposed of his body. Any jury would pass a guilty judgement on those facts. You, Charlie, are going to do a long, long stretch!’
Charles opened and shut his mouth like a goldfish, he looked desperate and terrified. Sweat was pouring off him. ‘I didn’t stab him, or Jackie,’ he burst out. ‘It was Belle who did both.’
A tingle went down Donaldson’s spine. ‘Belle killed her sister? Come on now, Charlie! How could she? Her car was in the garage, she couldn’t have walked there and back in the time. How low can a man go to try and blame his wife for something he did?’
Donaldson had met many men like Charles Howell in his police career. They probably began cheating, lying and bullying at prep school, and by the time they left their illustrious public schools, they had the confidence and the connections to embark on a career of trickery. Charles had almost certainly spent his entire life ducking and diving, cutting corners and cheating people. Now it was payback time.
Prison had brought the man to breaking point. He was scared to death, exhausted and no longer in control of himself, and although Donaldson had a touch of sympathy for him, he wasn’t going to let that stop him grinding the man down a little further.
‘You drove up to Brodie Farm, you had an argument with your sister-in-law, and as you were leaving you heard her talking on the phone to Mrs Brannigan, asking her to come over. You knew only too well that when Brannigan got there, Jackie would tell her all kinds of things you didn’t want getting out. You had to prevent it at all costs. And best of all you realized that if you timed the killing right, then Laura Brannigan would be blamed.’
‘No, no, no,’ Charles banged on the table,