Camberwell snuck out of the office and headed to the nearest pub. He needed a stiff drink, and he needed it now.
Chapter 34
Ralph Lawrence turned in his bed. It had been a late night, what with Yolanda on the phone, yet again not wanting to return to London. In the end, he had drunk a full bottle of whisky before collapsing. He blearily opened his eyes, realised that it was daylight outside and that someone was knocking on the front door to his flat.
Without checking, he turned the latch on the door and opened it. On the other side, Gary Frost. ‘You bastard,’ he said as he pushed his way in. ‘You’re going to testify against me.’
Ralph struggled with the situation. He was larger than Frost, the man was alone, but why was he here, what did he want? He slapped some water on his face from a tap in the kitchen, before looking at Frost again. The man was standing firm: his face red, his hands raised in anger.
‘Frost, what do you want? We had an arrangement, but you wouldn’t wait.’
‘You’ve given the police a statement saying that I had you beaten.’
‘What else would you want me to say? That you’re a good fellow, a good mate? Get real. You’re in trouble, and you’re lashing out. When I came to you, what did I get? Sympathy, a shoulder to cry on? Not from you. I got Caxton and O’Grady beating me up, showing what would happen if I didn’t give you what you wanted, and now O’Grady’s dead.’
‘How do you know?’
‘It’s on the news. And Caxton’s singing like a bird.’
‘He won’t.’
‘Without you to hold his hand, he’ll be putty to the police.’
‘I need to get out of the country,’ Frost said.
‘Why look at me? My father left me high and dry. Look how I live. Nowhere as fancy as you, although you can’t go back, is that it?’
‘I’m desperate,’ Frost pleaded.
‘Not such the big man now, are you? It’s easy to be tough when you’re on top, but down below, where I’ve been, you’re frightened. Now, if you haven’t got anything to add to our conversation, I suggest you leave while I call the police.’
Ralph picked up his phone, speed-dialled Detective Chief Inspector Isaac Cook. ‘I’ve got a Mr Frost in my flat if you’re interested.’
Frost rushed out of the door. ‘You bastard, I’ll get you for this.’
Ralph knew he would not.
***
Edward Sharman knew that the situation was hopeless as he sat in the interview room. On one side of the table, the two police officers were sitting up straight, full of pride because they had brought an investigation to a successful conclusion. On his side, Ainsley Caxton had shrunk in his seat. Before O’Grady’s body had been found, and before he had discovered that Gary Frost had run out on him, Caxton had been full of himself, almost cheeky with the police constable who had brought him his breakfast, but now, it was over.
The confession had surprised even Isaac. Caxton had not spoken since entering the interview room and would not until he had left, except to give his name and to read his statement.
‘I, Ainsley Gregory Caxton, do admit to the killing of Hector O’Grady. I was acting on the instructions of Gary Frost. He has been responsible for other murders, none of which were committed by me. I am guilty of the maltreatment of Ralph Lawrence and Keith Waters. O’Grady was proving to be unreliable. Frost demanded that I dispose of the man. I followed orders as a soldier would if given a command by an officer.’
Larry could see Sharman’s clever wording. An attempt to convince a jury that his client Caxton, a man who did have a good army service record, was a man who did what he was told, a humble man who deserved leniency. It was a clever ploy, but Larry, like Emily, knew full well that with the litany of crimes against Caxton it would not lessen the sentence. He was going down for sixteen years at the very least.
‘Frost’s business empire was under threat. He needed to reduce his liabilities. O’Grady was a man likely to talk. He was physically strong, mentally and morally bankrupt,’ Caxton continued. ‘I joined the boat two miles from the boatyard. We had pulled in there before, and both of us were familiar with the place. Sometimes we’d make a small fire, cook the fish and then have a few drinks. I shot him, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. In Belgium, it had been O’Grady who killed Samuels. I was merely the bystander, but Frost intended, if there was no hope, to lay the blame on me. If I did not agree to kill O’Grady, he would implicate me in Samuels’ death. It was known that he had received a phone call from Belgium, and the evidence was mounting against him. I had regarded Frost as a friend, but when he told me to kill O’Grady, I knew he was not. That is the end of my statement.’
Caxton was formally charged with the murder of Hector O’Grady and taken back to his cell. ‘Where’s Frost?’ Sharman said.
‘We’re still waiting for him,’ Emily said.
‘Give me a call when he gets here. I’ll be representing him.’ Sharman stood up and walked out, not shaking the officers’ hands, not saying goodbye.
***
Frost did not return to his car. He cut a sorry figure as he walked, keeping to the side streets as much as possible. He met Ted Samson, the small man who had kept a watch on Ralph
