Inside the small cabin, Windsor picked up a jacket, inside it the name of Ainsley Caxton. He held it up for Isaac and his team to see.
‘It wasn’t there when the boat went out,’ said Joe Garibaldi, second-generation English with Italian grandparents. ‘I always check when the boats go out that they’re clean and no one’s left anything in them. Sometimes they leave a phone when they come back, or a wallet. You’d be amazed at how careless some people are.’
Isaac wasn’t.
‘Isaac, kit yourself up. Inspector Matson, Larry, you as well,’ Windsor shouted.
The three moved closer to the boat after following instructions. ‘No need to come onboard,’ Windsor said. ‘Just look underneath.’ The three could see the holes. ‘What does it mean?’ Isaac said.
‘The boat has been scuttled. There are signs of a bullet being fired through the hull, not that it would have been a big enough hole to have sunk it that quickly. Someone’s gone at it with something bigger, an axe probably. No sign of the gun or the axe, though.’
‘Anything else missing?’ Emily asked.
‘The anchor. If your man has killed someone out on the river, he’s probably been thrown over the side with the anchor tied to him.’
‘Any chance of finding the body?’ Larry asked.
‘Don’t raise your hopes too high. A few weeks and a body will be down to bones and a few bits of flesh: natural putrefaction, plus the fish and the crabs. After that, the bones could go out with the tide, the current can get strong out there. We’re checking for fingerprints, but don’t hold out for us finding anything conclusive.’
Bridget phoned, Larry answered. ‘That’s great. I’ll be there within the hour.’
Larry turned to the others. ‘Keith Waters, the kneecapped man, he’s heard about Caxton being taken into custody, also that O’Grady’s missing, presumed dead. He’s willing to give a statement.’
‘That means we can bring in Frost, and make it stick,’ Isaac said.
‘For grievous bodily harm, not for murder.’
‘Okay, leave Frost to stew for the time being. Larry, you and Wendy take the man’s statement. Emily, it’s your show,’ Isaac said. It was her jurisdiction, and he recognised the need to bow to her authority and input.
‘A few more hours won’t do any harm. I’ll make sure that Caxton knows what’s going on. Let him sweat a bit longer.’
Chapter 32
Yolanda had been sad when Ralph Lawrence phoned to tell her about the death of her son. He had wanted to see her again, to make her come back to him, but he knew she would not. ‘He’s gone, Ralph,’ she said. In the background, Ralph could hear the sound of people laughing. In the Caribbean, she had a life and money and friends. All he could offer was a two-bedroom flat in Bayswater, and possibly years of legal wrangling while he, and hopefully his sister, took on Jill Dundas.
‘I understand,’ Ralph had said. ‘Will you come back for his funeral?’
‘Not now. I will mourn in my own way. One day I will return and visit his grave, place a few flowers, shed a tear. I loved you, Ralph, you know that, but we will never meet again.’ And then she was gone, back to her life in the sun. It suited Ralph to think that she would sit down in her quiet moments and reflect on her son, on him, the love that all three had once had, but he knew she probably wouldn’t. She had been a selfish woman back then, she still was, but he would miss her.
***
Keith Waters gave his statement, Larry and Wendy witnessing it. Out at Greenwich, Inspecteur Jules Hougardy looked out at the River Thames from Zizzi’s restaurant on Greenwich Promenade. On the other side of the table, Isaac and Emily. It was Italian, and all three were eating pasta.
‘We have an old-fashioned fish and chip shop in the town,’ Emily said. ‘We’ll take you there before you go back, as long as you don’t mind it soggy with vinegar.’
‘A pint of warm beer afterwards,’ Hougardy replied. ‘But, for now, what do we have?’
‘If we can prove that Caxton murdered O’Grady, then he’s subject to English law. Whatever happens, he can be sentenced for grievous bodily harm.’
‘The case against him in Belgium is still circumstantial. We know he’s guilty, but our defence lawyers are as good as yours. Are you searching the river for O’Grady’s body?’
‘We are, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Unless it catches on something, the chances of recovery are slim. Larry and Wendy will be back within the hour. Then Emily and Larry can go to work on Caxton again.’
***
Caxton was led into the interview room at Greenwich. He had now been formally charged with the murder of Hector O’Grady, a fingerprint having been retrieved from the sunken boat, as well as the lesser charge of grievous bodily harm inflicted on the persons of Keith Waters and Ralph Lawrence. The recovered boat continued to dry at the wharf, no more than two hundred yards from the police station.
Emily was taking the lead role, Larry backing her up. In another room sat Jules Hougardy, Isaac and Wendy.
‘My client wishes to make a statement,’ Edward Sharman said. Procedurally, they were remiss in not advising him of one late development, but Emily, as well as the rest of the team, wanted the final blow to come as a surprise.
‘I, Ainsley Gregory Caxton, of 15, India Street, Greenwich, wish to state that I was not involved in the disappearance of Hector O’Grady, a colleague as well as a friend. The
