NO sooner had Hanlon and SOCO driven away than the lights of Drysdale's Rolls-Royce cut across the golf course.
'Another one?' sniffed the pathologist, peeling off his gloves and handing them to his secretary.
'Kill one, get one free,' said Frost. 'Dr Slomon reckons she died of heart failure.'
'Brilliant,' said Drysdale coldly. 'Everyone dies from heart failure. It's what causes the heart to fail that matters.' His examination didn't take long. With much reluctance he agreed with Dr Slomon. 'A heart attack, probably brought on by shock. I don't suppose it will reveal much more than that, but the autopsy will be at two tomorrow afternoon.'
Frost sighed. 'I'll be there, doc.' He seemed to be spending half his flaming life at Drysdale's elbow in that miserable autopsy room. He left Jordan to oversee the removal of the body and let Morgan drive him back to the station. The aroma of Sarah's cheap perfume still clung to the interior of the car and there were bits of her tatty fur on the seat…
'You can't talk to Ashby yet, Jack,' Bill Wells told him. 'He's sent for his solicitor.'
'People are too flaming aware of their rights,' moaned Frost. The canteen was closed at that hour of the morning so he sent Morgan off to make some tea, then sat in his office to wait and draw doodles on one of Mullett's memos.
Morgan pushed the door open, bearing two mugs of tea. He was followed in by Detective Sergeant Hanlon. Frost fished the tea-bag from his mug, took a sip and shuddered. 'Cat's pee,' he said.
'Sorry, guv,' mumbled Morgan. 'Making tea isn't my strong suit.'
'Nothing done in a standing position seems to be your strong suit,' said Frost. He turned to Hanlon. 'What joy with Forensic?'
'They're still going through the house, Jack. They bagged up some clothes for examination, including the coat he was wearing in the car, but no obvious sign of any fur fibres.'
Frost looked worried. 'You sure it was the right coat?'
'His keys and his driving licence were in the pocket.'
'For all we know he went back to that red-haired receptionist's flat and changed. I should have left someone watching the place.'
'You think she's in it with him, guv?' asked Morgan.
'I reckon there's got to be two of them, Taff. He couldn't have carried Big Bertha's body from the car on his own, not without a fork lift truck.' He took another sip from his mug before grimacing and pushing it away. His cigarettes went the rounds. 'Knowing who did it is one thing — proving it can be bloody difficult.' He looked up hopefully as Rawlings, the SOCO, followed by Burton, came in and dropped into a vacant chair. 'This had better be good news,' said Frost, 'or I'll get Taffy to make you a cup of tea.'
Rawlings waved away the offer of a cigarette. 'Forensic are doing more thorough tests, but I haven't turned up anything either in the house, his clothes or his car. My guess is she was never in that Honda.'
'I'm not interested in your guesses,' moaned Frost. 'If you've nothing positive to report, then lie.' He turned to Hanlon. 'What happened when you went to the house?'
'I told him we'd like him to come to the station to answer a few questions. He said he'd come tomorrow. I said now. He told me to get stuffed, so I arrested him.'
'On suspicion of the murder of Helen Stokes?'
'Yes. He called us a load of incompetent fools.'
'He knows us too well.' Frost yawned. It had been a long day and it wasn't yet over. 'Unless Forensic come' up with something, we haven't got a lot on him; suspicion, but nothing concrete. We're going to bluff our way through this, pretend we know a lot more than we actually do.' His internal phone rang. Ashby's solicitor had arrived.
Ashby, dishevelled and furious, was seated next to his solicitor, a small balding man who looked equally annoyed. 'My client would have been perfectly willing to answer your questions at a reasonable time, Inspector. It's intolerable that you should drag him down here at this hour of the morning.' He glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him. 'I understand you wish to question him regarding the death of his late receptionist Miss Helen Stokes?'
'Bang on!' nodded Frost, settling himself down in the chair with his files, his cigarettes and his lighter. He checked that Burton was ready with the tape machine.
As soon as it was running, the solicitor said his set piece. 'My client wishes to state emphatically that he knows nothing at all about the death of his employee and he resents most strongly that you have arrested him without a shred of evidence.'
'Then let's try and clear this little misunderstanding up,' beamed Frost, leaning across the table to Ashby and making great play of studying his earlier statement. 'Miss Stokes was killed in the early hours of Saturday morning. You told us you went straight home Friday night, after the surgery closed, stayed in and didn't go out?'
'That's correct.'
'Is it?' asked Frost, sounding surprised. He pulled another sheet of paper towards him. 'So any witness saying they saw you out in your Honda in the small hours would not be telling the truth?' He had no such witness, of course and kept his fingers crossed that the solicitor wouldn't challenge this point, but to his relief Ashby swallowed the baited hook.
'Saw me driving? Ah, yes, now I come to think of it… I suffer from insomnia, Inspector, and sometimes have to get up and take a short drive in my car. I find driving aimlessly around helps me sleep.'
Frost smiled happily. 'That clears up that little point, sir. We don't like to have these discrepancies.' He shuffled through the papers and pulled out a witness statement. 'Now what was the date that other witness mentioned…? Ah yes… the early hours of Tuesday morning…' He raised his eyebrows enquiringly. More bluff. The statement was from a householder reporting they saw nothing at all at the time the body was dumped under the fast food van.
'Ah…' said the dentist, as if suddenly remembering. 'I did go out for a late night drive… It slipped my mind before.'
Frost ticked the statement. 'Good. We know the body was dumped between half-past midnight and half-past one Tuesday morning. Can you tell us where your aimless drive had taken you between those times?'
'I'm sorry, Inspector, I don't stare at the clock as I drive, I just don't know.'
'Did you know Miss Stokes had a secret passion for you sir?'
Ashby blinked in amazement. 'What…?'
Frost showed him the photograph. 'We found this in her bedroom… the red marks are lipstick. She'd been slobbering all over it. Didn't you detect any signs of a smouldering passion?'
'No, I did not.'
The solicitor came to life. 'I can't see where any of this is is leading, Inspector.'
'Bear with me, sir.' Back to Ashby. I'm suggesting, sir, that Miss Stokes, with her secret passion, would have been insanely jealous if you gave your favours to someone else.'
'I'm a happily married man,' snapped Ashby.
'Yes, sir, but is it your wife who is keeping you happy or your new receptionist?'
The solicitor quickly intervened. 'Are you suggesting my client is having an affair with his receptionist?'
Frost gave the solicitor a knowing smile. 'I don't think your client will deny it, sir, especially as I caught them at it.' Back to Ashby. 'Did Miss Stokes catch you at it as well, sir? Did she threaten to tell your wife? Is that why she had to be silenced?'
'No, no, no,' shouted Ashby, his fist hammering on the table for emphasis.
'You had motive and opportunity, sir.'
Before the dentist could answer, the solicitor raised a hand. 'Just a minute, Inspector. A purely hypothetical motive which my client has denied, and as for opportunity, being unable to state definitely where he was at a critical time is hardly proof that he committed a crime.'
'You're right, sir,' said Frost ruefully. 'It's not enough, is it?' He lit up another cigarette and slowly exhaled smoke. 'Let's see if we can't bolster our case up a bit.' He put Sarah's file on the top of the heap and opened it up. 'Now here's coincidence. Death does seem to follow your client around. He was seen with another woman earlier tonight and now she's dead!'
The colour drained from Ashby's face. 'Jayne? Are you saying Jayne's dead? Oh my God!'
