Murder Club - Mark Pearson [95]
‘Andrew Johnson didn’t commit suicide, Michelle,’ Delaney said. ‘We believe he was murdered. We believe the same person also killed Michael Robinson the other day.’
‘I saw that on the news.’
‘We believe the two knew each other, part of a ring. Rapists. So I need you to think was there anybody you saw him with, someone you might recognise or know.’
‘His wife kept him on quite a short lead all the time. She was a fairly domineering character. There were the masons, of course, but that was about it.’
‘He was a mason?’
‘Yes. Is that relevant?’
‘I don’t know, Miss Riley. We’re just trying to put the pieces together, and the two people who could enlighten us are both dead.’
She shrugged apologetically. ‘That’s all I can think of.’
‘Did he have meetings at the pub?’
‘We had a back room, a function room. Every fortnight or so he would get cheese and wine in. Goodness knows what went on in there.’
‘You would recognise a photo of one of the men?’
‘I’m pretty sure I would. I have a good memory for faces. Names are another matter. Don’t get me started on names. But faces, I’m like an elephant.’
‘Would you have a look at a photo for us then, please,’ asked DC Cartwright.
Michelle Riley picked up a pair of black-framed glasses as Sally handed her the photo of Christian Peterson.
‘No,’ she said, without hesitation. ‘Never seen him before in my life.’
66.
KATE WALKER WAS at her desk in her office at the station. She typed in some codes on her laptop, entered the name Dr Laura Chilvers and her police personnel file came up, starting with her full name.
Kate took a pen and wrote the name Angela Laura Chilvers. Underlining the first six letters of her name, twice.
Kate had suspected that Laura had been lying to her. Now she knew it. She flicked through her file and started checking her CV, the pen tapping on the desk once more as she read it.
She closed that page, then accessed the NHS database system, entering her security code and opening the files for Reading General Hospital. She put the pen aside and read the files from eight years ago. Twenty minutes later, she pushed the print icon and a photo printed from the wireless machine on top of her filing cabinet.
She slipped the print into an A5 envelope, then looked at her watch and cursed. She was running late. She was supposed to pick Siobhan up from dance school. The other matters would have to wait.
Stephanie Hewson drew the bolts on her door and opened it. Delaney and Sally Cartwright were standing on her doorstep and, as they walked into the house and the door closed behind them, the man with cold blue eyes in a van on the opposite side of the road made a fist of his gloved hands as he held them on the key in his ignition, then fired up the engine and sped away heedless of the frozen snow that was turning the road into a skating rink.
‘I thought now that he was dead it would all be over,’ said Stephanie Hewson.
‘I’m sorry, Stephanie,’ said Delaney, in no hurry to take off his coat. ‘But we are on it. I’ve spoken to Harrow nick and they are going to send some uniforms to stand guard here.’
‘But I don’t understand. Why would I need it?’
‘Because we think there is more than just Michael Robinson.’
‘A group of them,’ added Sally.
‘What, like some sick sort of club?’ said Stephanie Hewson.
‘It looks that way.’
‘Do you ever drink in The Castle pub?’ asked Delaney.
‘No. I’ve never even been there.’
‘You changed your testimony because someone threatened you, and I know I said I wouldn’t press you,’ said Delaney. ‘But I need to know what these people said.’
‘They didn’t say anything. They left things on the doorstep.’
‘Like what?’
‘White lilies at first. Then a postcard with the three monkeys on it.’
‘Hear no evil. See no evil. Speak no evil.’
‘Yes that’s the one. Finally there was a wreath, I think their message was pretty clear.’
‘Yes.’
‘All the time I felt like I was being followed.