‘Homicide and Serious Crime,’ Isaac said.
‘Sergeant Derek Hamilton, Charing Cross Police Station.’
‘Good to meet you, Sergeant. I’m DCI Cook. My colleague is DI Ahmed.’
‘I’ll need to see your IDs, gentlemen.’
‘Fine,’ the sergeant said, after checking. ‘Forensics is already here.’
It was clear that guests on either side of Sutherland’s suite were being moved out, their luggage visible in the corridor.
‘Inspector Barry Hopkirk. Pleased to meet you.’ Isaac instinctively did not like the man on introduction. He appeared to be in his fifties. He wore an ill-fitting suit, crumpled as if he had slept in it, a tie skewed to one side.
Isaac saw no reason for subtlety. ‘Is moving the other guests’ luggage standard procedure?’
Hopkirk, a man with a short fuse, immediately went on the offensive. ‘Is that a criticism?’
‘This man’s death is regarded as suspicious.’
‘That may be, but when we arrived, there was only a dead body.’
‘You’re moving guests and their luggage off the floor. Have they been interviewed, checked for a possible weapon?’
‘We’ve got their names; they’re not exiting the building, only changing rooms. Besides, there’s no sign of a weapon being used,’ Hopkirk said.
‘That may be, but have you considered that they may be involved?’ There were clearly set down procedures in the case of a suspicious death, and Hopkirk was not following them.
‘There was nothing suspicious when we arrived.’
‘The Savoy Hotel, a former television celebrity. You don’t think that’s suspicious?’
‘I’m not aware of his importance.’
‘Charles Sutherland. Famous actor. Are you telling me that you have never heard of him?’
‘I never made the association. All I saw was a dead body.’
‘What do you have here?’
‘Forensics will bring you up to speed. They’re inside with the body. And make sure you put on footwear protectors,’ Hopkirk said.
Isaac and Farhan moved to the room where the body had been found. ‘Who is the crime scene examiner in charge here?’ Isaac asked.
‘Who’s asking?’ The reply came from a small man, bent over examining the body. He wore a white coverall, his hands gloved.
‘Detective Chief Inspector Isaac Cook.’
‘Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be with you.’
The dead man was naked and sprawled on the floor. It was not a pleasant sight, as the victim was clearly overweight, verging on obese. It was clear from the faeces that his bowels had relaxed.
‘Nasty business,’ the small man said as he came over and shook hands with Isaac and Farhan. He had removed his gloves first, thrown them into a plastic bag. He was short, ridiculously short, and Isaac had to angle his neck down to look into his face, although mainly saw the top of his head. ‘Gordon Windsor,’ he said.
‘I don’t see any sign of violence,’ Farhan said.
‘And you won’t.’ The crime scene examiner spoke with a Welsh accent. He talked slowly. Isaac thought it might be a way of controlling a stutter.
‘Why not?’ Farhan asked.
‘Poison.’
‘How did you know it was murder?’
‘I didn’t. Hopkirk did.’
‘I just blasted him out,’ Isaac said.
‘That may be, but he came here due to a death at the hotel. Apparently, standard procedure at the Savoy to call the local police when there’s a death.’
Isaac realised that he may have been a little harsh on Hopkirk. If that proved to be the case, he would apologise later.
‘How did Hopkirk figure it was murder?’ Isaac asked.
‘The body lying on the floor, the drooling, the defecation. He can tell you better than me, but my understanding is that he came here for a dead body, and then he found out about the wild parties and wondered if it was drug-related, overdose or something similar.’
‘What did he find?’
‘Cocaine, but not much else ‒ certainly not enough to cause death. That’s when he looked around, found clear evidence of poison.’
‘Careless to leave the evidence here,’ Farhan said.
‘Careless or disturbed? I’ve no idea. That’s for you to find out,’ Gordon Windsor said as he removed his coveralls and picked up his bag. ‘For me, it’s to get the body back to the morgue, deal with Forensics and then write a report. It’s going to be a long night. Wedding anniversary, I was going to take my wife out for a meal at an excellent restaurant. Curiously, the restaurant downstairs, just off the foyer. Hopefully, she’ll understand.’
‘Will she?’ Farhan asked.
‘She’s used to it. She’ll pretend to be upset, but she’ll be fine.’ Farhan could only reflect on why his wife was not as sympathetic, but he assumed that Gordon Windsor did not have a mother-in-law constantly in his wife’s ear.
Chapter 13
With the crime scene examiner’s departure, and Inspector Barry Hopkirk a little friendlier after Isaac had apologised to him, Isaac and Farhan returned to their office. Farhan could clearly see long hours on the case. He knew it would not help with his marriage. He had a job to do, a family to provide for, whether his wife liked it or not, and being miserable and moping around was going to solve little. He decided to snap out of it and get on with the job.
‘This changes the situation,’ Isaac said.
‘The question is whether it’s related to Marjorie Frobisher,’ Farhan replied as he sipped his coffee. It was a little too hot for him.
‘What do we know about Charles Sutherland? Could this be unrelated?’
‘Possibly.’
‘If it is linked, then you know what this means.’
‘What did he know?’
‘Or who was he?’ Farhan put forward another possibility.
‘What do you mean?’
‘How did he get to know of anything worth selling? It’s not as if Marjorie Frobisher went around the production lot sounding off to anyone in earshot. There’s also the animosity between them.’
As expected, DS Goddard was soon in their office. ‘Is it clearly murder?’ he asked.
‘There’s a
