‘Colin? I thought you were referring to someone else.’
‘You seemed to understand before.’
‘It’s just that I can’t…’
‘Believe it, is that it?’ Wendy said.
‘He was so fit, so full of himself.’
‘A jogger?’
‘Serious, every day, wherever he was. We snuck in a couple of nights away once, and five in the morning, he’s out there running around. And I’m there waiting for him, and now he’s dead, and I’ll never see him again. How will I survive? He kept me going, and now he’s gone. How?’
Wendy could see the woman resolutely holding back the tears.
‘Hyde Park, near the Serpentine.’
‘But why? He wasn’t staying here. Where was he? He doesn’t live in London, I know that, and he always comes to see me.’
Larry could recognise the truth. Colin Young was a player, a man that had more than one woman, the married and susceptible his speciality. Not that it explained why Christine Mason, also known as Christine Hislop, would have been attracted to him. She was in her forties, blonde hair, articulate and educated.
Chapter 4
The team in Homicide had a name and an address that the man had used when he had signed in at the Fitzroy Hotel on four separate occasions, even at the small and discreet hotel in the countryside where Colin Young and Christine Mason had enjoyed a romantic two-day tryst. But that was it.
Isaac was frustrated. The case had been split wide open with the naming of the dead jogger. Pathology had confirmed that he had been semi-conscious in the water and he had swallowed sufficient water to drown. The blow to the back of the head with something heavy was clear enough, and the force had thrust him backwards into the Serpentine, and that it was still murder.
The team met early in Isaac’s office. The weather outside was miserable, interminable rain, the clouds heavy and dark.
‘Colin Young, what do we know?’ Isaac asked.
Wendy sat quietly; a late night the previous day and back at six in the morning didn’t sit well with her. Larry, without the customary few too many pints of beer at the end of the day, was more alert.
‘Christine Mason, I suppose we should call her that, rather than the name she used when she purchased the SIM card, is forty-seven years of age. She must be fifteen years older than Colin Young,’ Larry said.
‘You’re still trying to make out that Christine Mason is a floozy, desperate for a man,’ Wendy said accusingly.
‘I agree that the woman didn’t seem to be that sort, but what do we know about her? Profiling would indicate that she’s not the type for a young lover, but the facts are the facts. You’ve checked out her story, confirmed that her husband, a salesman for an engineering firm, travels a lot, and that there are two children, old enough to look after themselves.’
‘What kind of engineering?’ Isaac asked. He was in a better mood than the previous day. He and Jenny were talking again, though not yet loving, and the relationship was going to survive; he was sure of that.
‘Military,’ Larry said. ‘Something to do with weapon guidance systems.’
‘No more than that?’
‘Not that I could understand. Tony Mason is a high-powered salesman, trips into the Middle East, Saudi often. And then, he travels to other countries in the region, some that the British Government doesn’t approve of.’
‘Illegal?’
‘Even with sanctions imposed, it still continues.’
‘So the man’s secretive?’
‘We’ve not spoken to him yet. We don’t know what his reaction will be when he finds out about his wife and her lover.’
‘Not pleasant, we’d assume,’ Isaac said. ‘He’ll need to be interviewed at some time. In the country?’
‘According to Christine Mason, he’s due to leave again in a couple of days,’ Wendy said.
‘’Very well. Focus on Colin Young. What do we have?’
‘An address in Bristol, bogus,’ Bridget said. ‘No point going there unless you want to enter a convent.’
‘Sense of humour, our Mr Young.’
‘Sense of something,’ Wendy said. ‘It’s hardly humour if he has been stringing along other women.’
‘Apart from that, we know that the address is bogus. Payment at the Fitzroy?’
‘Credit card, valid. It was in the name of Colin Young. The bank that issued it has an address, this time in Bath.’
‘Which indicates that he comes from around there?’
‘The address in Bath is a secretarial service. We’ve been on to them, although all they do is receive the man’s correspondence, put it into a post office box.’
‘Which he picks up from.’
‘It’s a busy location, a lot of pedestrian traffic. We can start by asking people on the street if they’ve seen anyone open the box, but it’s a needle in a haystack. The man wouldn’t have stood out from the crowd.’
‘Coming back to London,’ Isaac said. ‘The man’s in jogging gear near to the Serpentine. It’s early morning, so that tells us he spent the previous night in London, and somewhere close. If it’s not the Fitzroy, then where?’
‘We’ve had people out door knocking the hotels, although we got nowhere. We’ll continue, widen our search if we have to,’ Wendy said.
‘He had no money on him,’ Larry said. ‘He must have been staying nearby, within walking or jogging distance.’
‘Which could mean for a man so obviously fit, anywhere up to five miles, even more.’
‘Needle in a haystack, as you say,’ Isaac said, aware Jenny would be disappointed that the murderer was not going to be found soon.
‘We’ve asked other people to check on the clothing,’ Wendy said.
‘Focus on finding out what you can about this man. It’s no use chasing red herrings, interviewing Christine Mason’s husband unless we have reason to suspect him.’
‘He must be a suspect,’ Bridget said.
‘He is, but of what? He may not have
