***
The strongest motive for the murders of Amelia Brice and Christine Devon lay with the cleaning company. Isaac knew, as did his team, that most people tend to overvalue their assets, mainly for insurance purposes. Even Isaac believed that his flat was worth more than the current property market would pay, and those with wealth would have no difficulty overvaluing their jewellery, the most likely items to be stolen. But that would require a police report of theft. Bridget was assisting Fraud to make some checks. Fraud was also going through the records of Shirley O’Rourke’s cleaning company. The woman had instructed her lawyer to take action for their return.
So far, the employees were known and the addresses recorded. It was not thought likely than any ill-gotten gains would be registered, and they would probably have been deposited into an offshore account or would be in cash. With the addresses of the premises that had been cleaned, they’d be able to compare them with the insurance company claims. If they found any that matched, Mrs O’Rourke would be called in for further questioning.
Even so, Isaac knew it was a long stretch from theft and insurance fraud to a professional assassination.
Superintendent Goddard was looking for a result, yet the only possibilities seemed weak. Amelia’s diary had revealed nothing more of interest, other than the usual day-to-day activities of a woman who was sometimes a little too direct about which man she had slept with, and their score out of one to ten. Further checking of the house had failed to find any more diaries, which concerned Isaac and Larry. An exhaustive check of all of the woman’s acquaintances had not discovered another Q, although after their meeting with Quentin Waverley, they had come away uncertain about him. Checks into his background showed that his expertise was excellent. He came across as a competent man. There had even been a picture of him in a magazine with the blushing bride on the day they got married. Isaac had studied the image and had to agree with Jeremy Brice that Gwen Waverley was an attractive woman, although not as appealing as Amelia had been. And now the Waverleys had a child, another on the way.
In Homicide, it was time for the regular early morning meeting. Bridget had organised the coffee, Larry was working his way through one of his wife’s healthy snacks, saying little, just pulling a strange face as he took a bite. None of the others commented although they all enjoyed the entertainment. Wendy could empathise as she had managed to lose some weight in the last few months; it had piled on after she had quit smoking, and the walks around the block before breakfast were doing her good.
Bridget, not subject to the strenuous medical that Wendy would have, and not troubled by arthritis, felt no need to diet and no need to exercise. Each morning she’d be into the bacon and eggs, while Wendy would be on muesli.
‘What have we got?’ Isaac asked the team. He was sitting back, pleased that he had found himself a potential new girlfriend. They had been out for a meal the night before, but it was early days, and they hadn’t gone back to his flat afterwards. He had liked the woman, did not want to ruin it with an ill-timed move, and besides, she had made it clear that she took her relationships seriously and she was not into one-night stands.
‘Is it possible that it is Christine Devon who was the primary target?’ Wendy asked.
‘We’ve considered this before,’ Isaac said, ‘but the woman has no history. Apart from a few friends at her church, she kept to herself.’
‘She cleaned in other houses. Maybe she had seen something, mentioned it to Amelia Brice. And then Brice attempted to use it to her advantage. The woman’s morals were suspect.’
‘Sleeping with men she picks up at the pub is not analogous to bribery and extortion.’
‘Agreed, although she may have mentioned it to someone else who had no issues with extortion.’
‘Bridget, what do we know about where Christine Devon worked?’ Isaac asked.
‘She had been cleaning houses for nine years. Before that, she had worked in a clothing factory.’
‘The clothing factory, is it still there?’
‘It’s located in China now.’
‘Okay, so she’s a casualty of the need to produce somewhere cheaper. After that, cleaning?’
‘We have copies of her tax returns with details. Since the clothing factory, only cleaning.’
Chapter 8
Two people remained worried: Billy Devon and his sister, Charisa. Their mother was dead at the hands of persons unknown and their brother, Samuel, at the hands of one of the gangs in the area. Both of them knew that Billy had almost fallen under a gang’s influence a few years earlier, but his mother had firmly taken control of him, clipping him around the ears a few times when he came in late or was abusive. It had worked with him, but then he was as strong-willed as his mother, and the idea of petty crime and ganja had never attracted him. His brother, he assumed, took after their father, although neither he nor his brother remembered him. Charisa, his sister, was also strong and wanting to leave England, and Billy knew he would then be alone.
Charisa had had trouble with the gangs in the past, with their attempts to accost her as she walked down the road to the place that had been home, although it was never cosy, more utilitarian. It was a depressing building, its communal areas graffitied, its attempt at a garden outside littered with dog faeces and old syringes. On some nights, if it was dark, Charisa had stayed with a friend, or in more recent times with her boyfriend. Her mother hadn’t approved, but as the young woman had said, ‘What’s worse? My being mugged, even
