‘Do you have a name?’
‘You’ll have it in the morning, as well as an update from the chief crime scene investigator. We’ll also meet up with Forensics, have a chat to the pathologist as to when he’ll be conducting an autopsy. Crime is a rare occurrence here, or at least murder is. Sure, we have one or two drunken youths who think graffitiing the church wall is a great pastime, but apart from that not much happens here.’
‘Where is the crime scene investigation team based?’ Larry said.
‘They came down from Plymouth. I’m stationed there, but I live in the village. It’s my patch, unofficially that is, that’s why I’ve been given the lead in this investigation,’ Greenwood said.
Chapter 16
Jenny, Isaac’s wife, was not surprised when he phoned from the office, late as usual, to say that he would be another couple of hours. It was only one of the things that he loved about her, the fact that she was always sympathetic when work took precedence over the home. She switched off the oven where his meal had been heating, turned down the light, and went into the other room, to bed.
It was Bridget who identified the man from the car registration. Isaac had to admit that the man lived well, but then, that was to be expected as he was not only Hamish McIntyre’s lawyer, or one of them, he was Samantha’s lover. Inside the mews house, Isaac sat on a comfortable chair, the lawyer sitting opposite. The man was dressed casually; it was late at night, almost eleven.
‘What do you want, DCI?’ Fergus Grantham said.
It wasn’t the first time the two men had met, and Isaac knew that the lawyer specialised in defending the criminal echelon in London. They had sparred in the courtroom on a couple of occasions, Isaac giving his evidence, Grantham using all his skills and wiles to devalue it, succeeding on some occasions, failing on others. Even so, Isaac could not feel any animosity towards him; even the most despicable was entitled to a fair trial. He was forty-seven years of age, and with a suntan courtesy of holidays in the Caribbean, he looked younger. He was as tall as Isaac, over six feet, and fit.
Isaac had had to give up running in his youth. He had been a promising athlete until a knee injury, but Grantham suffered from no such ailments, and he ran every day for four to five miles.
‘Samantha Matthews is your lover. Is this true?’ Isaac said.
‘What interest is that to you? Her husband disappeared six years ago. One more year and he can be declared legally dead. I’ve been dealing with the paperwork for her.’
‘We are concerned that Samantha is, by default, implicated in her husband’s death.’
‘Inspector, be careful what you say. As a lawyer, I’m recording our conversation. It could go against you. I have a deep affection for the woman, and she is also my client. Samantha has never been involved in any criminal activity, regardless of what you or your police department wish to think.’
‘Samantha was having an affair with Stephen Palmer. Marcus was alive at the time and living in the family home. Palmer disappeared without a trace, only to be discovered some years later hanging from a beam in a warehouse. His death had not been pleasant. No doubt you know this.’
‘It’s before I became a lawyer, but yes, I know, only because you have badgered Hamish McIntyre and Samantha. Neither of them has any knowledge of how Palmer died.’
Grantham continued after a pause of several seconds while he took a drink from the glass at his side. He did not offer one to Isaac. ‘Samantha is blameless of any crime, and yes, I do know that you have been at next door’s house.’
‘How do you know this?
‘It’s my job to know; how is not the issue here, is it? What are you going to make of the fact that I was upstairs in Samantha’s house when your people were downstairs interviewing her? Unless you have proof of involvement, then I suggest you desist from pestering her.’
Isaac had to agree with the man on one point. They had nothing against the woman, except the fact that she was the daughter of a vicious man, a man who through skilful management and expert legal advice had remained out of jail, and who now preferred to stay at his mansion in the country.
‘If there is no more, Inspector, then I suggest you leave,’ Grantham said. ‘We will regard our conversation as just that, would you agree? I have no wish to destroy your career, and to save the police embarrassment we will not talk of this matter again. After Marcus is buried, Samantha and I intend to spend a lot more time together.’
‘Does her father know of your and Samantha’s plan? Your current relationship?’ Isaac asked, needling for more information before being shown the door.
‘He would have no issues with Samantha and me, and I would advise you not to mention it to him. I suggest that you leave my house now and don’t come back unless you have a warrant or proof of malpractice or criminal intent. Let me make it clear, you will not find either of those to apply against me.’
Outside on the street, Isaac took a deep breath. Grantham had been right, but it had been necessary for him to meet the man. He was one more cog in the wheel, another piece of information which on the face of it seemed irrelevant. But down in Cornwall, a former rival for Stephen Palmer’s affections lay dead, a victim of foul play. Someone had murdered her for reasons unknown, reasons that would be discovered. Isaac
