someone had chopped off his knackers…’
‘All right, guv, I get it.’
‘And if Terri had done any of those things I could accept that in the heat of the moment she might get her prints all over the evidence and her mugshot on camera. But someone managed to get the better of Harvey-Ellis while he was pumped up with adrenaline — a fit rugby-playing forty-three-year-old. Someone was waiting for him. And when they got the chance there was no hesitation. This was planned and executed by somebody far more ruthless than a seventeen-year-old schoolgirl.’
‘So what now?’ asked Grant, breaking off to answer a prompt from the computer. She hit the return key, typed in the words ‘scopolamine’ and ‘morphine’ from her notebook and returned her attention to Hudson.
‘We speak to her to sign off on the details, but we treat her as a witness. Maybe she saw something; maybe she knows who might have wanted Tony dead. Unlikely, I know. Also, if we’re treating the murder as professional then first we go to his profession…’
‘Oh Jesus!’ exclaimed Grant, staring intently at the monitor.
‘What?’
Grant flipped the monitor round. ‘The MO, guv. It’s The Reaper.’
Laura Grant drove up the shady, tree-lined drive to a large whitewashed house. She parked outside what looked like the main entrance and killed the engine.
Chief Inspector Hudson got out of the passenger seat, coolly taking in the surroundings. Mature trees, outbuildings, manicured paths leading off in all directions. There was an old-fashioned Victorian greenhouse to the rear of the property and he could see a large conservatory on the back of the house.
Grant, being half Hudson’s age and never in touch with a time when houses could be bought for a few hundred pounds, was unmoved by such a show of wealth. She glanced over at Hudson, who seemed to be minutely shaking his head.
‘Christ!’ he said. ‘No wonder this country’s in the shit when people who produce nothing but hot air can afford a house like this. Public relations, my arse. Did you know, when my mum and dad got married, they bought a terraced house in Balham for?800?’
Grant smiled. ‘Yes, guv. I did know that.’
Hudson finally broke away from his surveillance and caught her eye. Then, with an exaggerated cockney accent, he added, ‘In my day…’
Grant nodded towards the entrance as Terri Brook walked towards them. She looked stunning, though her eyes still betrayed the telltale residue of tears. She appeared much older than her seventeen years, dressed in figure-hugging black trousers and a ribbed polo neck. Her make-up was discreet, her mid-length brown hair lightly tinted and swept back and delicate pieces of gold adorned her ears.
‘Hello, you found it then?’
Hudson nodded. ‘Eventually. It’s not often we get out to Falmer.’
‘Really? What about the university?’
‘Not so many murders and armed robberies on campus these days, miss.’
‘Yes, sorry. Stolen bikes and soft drugs not your thing, I suppose. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your names?’
‘I’m DCI Hudson, Miss Harvey-Ellis, this is DS Grant. Nice place you’ve got here.’
‘It keeps the rain off. And I’m Theresa Brook, okay, but I prefer Terri.’
‘Brook. Of course,’ said Hudson, exchanging a glance with Grant.
Terri escorted them through the entrance portico into an enormous modern kitchen and through into an even bigger conservatory, furnished with sturdy cream sofas. She gestured for them to sit, then at a coffee pot and poured for both officers when they nodded.
‘Where’s your mother, Miss Brook?’ asked Grant.
She looked a little sheepish and raised melancholy eyes to Hudson. ‘Call me Terri. I’m afraid I owe you an apology, Chief Inspector. Mum’s asleep. She’s still not up to it. She’s been sedated. I’m sorry. Perhaps if you came back later…’
Hudson paused for a few moments, then smiled in sympathy. ‘Please don’t apologise, Terri. We quite understand.’ Grant raised an eyebrow at her superior. He wasn’t usually so understanding when suspects tried to mess him around.
A pause from Terri. Then, ‘I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey.’
‘Terri, do you think I could have a glass of water?’ asked Hudson.
‘Of course.’ She left to fetch the water after a brief pause.
‘Guv?’ said Grant once Terri was out of earshot.
‘I think we should take a run at Terri while she’s on her own.’
‘She’s only seventeen; she should have a parent with her.’
‘How much less awkward would it be without her mother present? Christ, we’re talking about an affair between Terri and her mum’s husband.’
‘I know but I’d feel a lot…’
Terri returned with a glass of water and handed it to Hudson, who took a token sip before placing it on the table.
‘Terri. Perhaps
‘I … I don’t know what I can tell you.’
‘We just need some background, really,’ said Grant.
‘For instance, can you tell us about any enemies your father might have had?’ asked Hudson.
‘Enemies? What’s that got to do with him drowning?’ Grant and Hudson said nothing. ‘Are you implying Tony was murdered?’
‘We’re not implying anything, Terri…’
‘You are, aren’t you?’ Terri was incredulous, disbelieving. She seemed to be shaking. Hudson and Grant studied her carefully and couldn’t detect any artifice.
‘At the moment we’re looking at all angles,’ said Grant.
‘Then you’re making a mistake. Tony was a popular guy. Everybody liked him. Everybody. I can’t believe anyone would want to murder him.’ She stared into the distance and Grant fancied a sliver of doubt deformed her features for a second.
‘Nobody had a grudge or wished to harm him in any way? Think back. We could be talking about a couple of years ago.’
Terri shook her head, now unable to meet their gaze. ‘No one, I’m telling you.’
‘We’ll come back to that one,’ said Hudson quietly. ‘Do you know where your stepfather was staying in Brighton the night before he died?’ Again Terri shook her head. Hudson hunched down over his notebook as if checking a detail. ‘It was in a hotel in Waterloo Street. The Duchess. Bit of a pigsty actually. Not really your stepfather’s sort of place I would’ve said. Do you know it?’
He looked back up at her as she shook her head. Her colour was darkening slightly, but otherwise she retained her composure.
‘Any idea why he might check into that hotel under a false name?’ asked Grant. ‘Gordon Hall.’ She continued to look at Terri. ‘Actually the register says Mr and Mrs Gordon Hall. Did you know your stepfather had a lady friend?’
Terri’s lips were becoming tighter and tighter and the ability to speak had deserted her. She shook her head again.
Hudson had some sympathy but he also knew that the more he tightened the screw, the more detailed the confession when it came. ‘You see what he did there. That’s a play on the name of his company, you know. Hall Gordon Public Relations,’ he pointed out helpfully.
‘Any idea who Mrs Hall might have been?’ asked Grant.
‘No!’ croaked Terri, clearing her throat. ‘Can I have one of those cigarettes please?’
‘Of course.’ Hudson took two cigarettes from the packet, handing one to Terri and putting one in his mouth. He lit hers then his own.
‘Whoever she is, I’m afraid it’s now almost certain she was having a sexual relationship with your stepfather.
