‘Stuart Vaughan, BBC. It must be obvious to anyone, even the man in the street, that her disappearance is related.’
‘It is a consideration,’ Isaac conceded.
‘Are you able to confirm that Sally Jenkins was naked when found?’
‘Please announce your name and organisation first.’ Richard Goddard attempted to wrest control of the proceedings from the media flock. He knew he would not be successful.
‘Claude Dunn, News Corporation. Is it true she was found with no clothes on?’ The media had become sensationalist.
‘That is not the focus of this press conference,’ Isaac said. He assumed Dunn must have paid someone at the crime scene for the information.
‘Geoffrey Agnew, ITV. Charles Sutherland had intended to reveal details about Marjorie Frobisher. Can you let us know what those details were?’
Richard Goddard answered. ‘No details were revealed.’
‘A hoax on his part?’ Agnew ignored the other questioners in the room, his raised voiced drowning them out.
‘I did not say that.’ Richard Goddard felt cornered. Angus MacTavish was watching, as was Commissioner Shaw on the television in Downing Street. The detective superintendent did not want his career to go down the drain due to an ill-chosen rebuttal. ‘Both murders are ongoing investigations. All avenues of enquiry will be investigated in detail. It would be inappropriate for either myself or Detective Chief Inspector Cook to speculate.’
‘And the prostitutes?’ Agnew interrupted. Again, Isaac realised that someone had paid money for that information. Farhan, watching from the rear of the room, hoped it wasn’t Christy Nichols or Aisha, and if it was Olivia, why? It seemed more likely to have been one of the staff in the hotel. He knew he had to find out.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have informed you as to the current situation. Regular press statements will be posted as new information becomes available. I thank you for your time.’ Richard Goddard wrapped up the press conference and exited the room, followed by Isaac.
‘How do you think it went, sir?’ Isaac asked.
‘Hopefully, well enough to save our careers.’ It seemed a pessimistic reply to Isaac. He chose not to comment.
***
With the press conference concluded, Isaac was free to meet Richard Williams. It was after six in the evening when he arrived at his office in the city. Williams opened the door, the new personal assistant nowhere to be seen.
‘DCI Cook, tragic business.’
‘I may need to bring you into the station at some stage.’
‘I thought it would have been today. Why didn’t you?’
‘Media scrum down there, too many people sticking their noses in. Did you have a similar problem?’
‘I don’t follow you,’ Williams replied.
‘Sally Jenkins had a tendency to listen in.’
‘I believe I told you that the other week.’
‘You did. Now the question is, did she hear or know of something that people would kill for?’
‘Not from me.’ Richard Williams seemed a little too nonchalant for Isaac.
‘I’ll level with you,’ Isaac said. ‘We have two bodies, a missing woman, and no motive, other than several women who were pleased when Sutherland was murdered. One was even delighted.’
‘Sally wasn’t one of them. She didn’t like him and his leering remarks, but she only met him once to my knowledge.’
‘And when was that?’
‘Some months back. We were wrapping up production for the year. We all met at a hotel near the production lot and had a decent meal and a few too many drinks. Sutherland was drunk, making suggestive remarks, but I don’t remember him going near Sally.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not totally. It was after all a party. Left the Ferrari here, took a taxi.’
‘Sally left the party with you?’
‘Not that she would have known about leaving.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Mixing her drinks, totally out of it.’
‘And she said nothing?’
‘About Sutherland?’
‘Yes.’
‘She didn’t say anything that night; the next day, she could barely remember the previous evening.’
‘You were with her?’
‘At the place where she was found dead. I paid for it, the renovations as well.’
‘The night she died?’
‘I told you before that I had sacked her.’
‘And you let her stay in the place?’
‘Why not? I’m not a total bastard.’
‘The night she died?’ Isaac returned to the standard question. The question that invariably invoked a reply of ‘I didn’t murder her’ or ‘My alibi’s watertight.’
‘I was with my personal assistant, the new one. In her bed, if you must know.’
‘She will testify to that?’
‘I don’t think she’ll be euphoric about it, but I’m sure she will.’
‘Sally Jenkins knew something. If it didn’t come from Sutherland, it must have come from you.’
‘I don’t know of anything that would warrant murder.’
‘You argued with Marjorie Frobisher before she disappeared. Was anything said in the heat of the moment, anything unexpected?’
‘How many times have we discussed this?’
‘How many times have you evaded the answer?’ Isaac responded, his voice raised.
‘Marjorie may have mentioned about the child she had when she was a lot younger, but she never mentioned the name, even if she knew it. That may be good enough for a gossip magazine, but it hardly seems sufficient to justify murder. If you wish to discuss this matter again, I will make sure my legal adviser is present.’
Isaac left soon after. The briefest of handshakes as they parted.
***
Angus MacTavish and Richard Goddard met at a pub some distance from Downing Street. The detective superintendent was anxious to be updated about the current situation, and to ascertain how his career was progressing. He was not naïve, he knew that the years of loyal service, the innumerable courses and qualifications, and unblemished service record counted for nothing if people at the top, often nameless, disapproved of the nominee. His future revolved around a missing woman, not the two murders. He also knew
