One wrong action on his part, one missed opportunity to devalue the police case against Samantha, and her father, a man who would not accept failure, would react.
Grantham got into the back of the police car and held Samantha’s hand; it was clammy, she was worried, and he knew she had every reason to be.
At the police station, the interview, the formal charging, explaining what was going to happen.
‘My client wishes to state her innocence,’ Grantham said.
‘Duly noted,’ Isaac said, Larry at his side. He looked at Isaac, knew full well that his DCI was pushing the envelope. The evidence was substantial, not cast iron, not yet.
‘Mrs Matthews,’ Isaac said, ‘we have proof that you were in St Austell on the day that Liz Spalding was murdered. Do you deny that?’
Samantha looked at Grantham.
‘My client withholds any answers until she knows what evidence you have against her,’ he said.
‘We have video proof that Mrs Matthews’ car was parked at the railway station in St Austell, Cornwall, on the day that Liz Spalding, an acquaintance of hers and Stephen Palmer’s, was murdered. True or not?’
‘The video evidence?’ Grantham said.
Isaac opened a folder and showed the accused woman and her lawyer a photo taken from the video.
‘I need time to consult with my client.’
Isaac halted the interview. Both he and Larry left the room.
Outside in the corridor, DCS Goddard was waiting. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘It’s the only way,’ Isaac said. ‘We can place her in St Austell.’
‘After that?’
‘Not yet.’
At the entrance to the police station, a commotion. ‘Samantha Matthews’ father has arrived,’ Larry said.
‘He can wait,’ Isaac said.
Ten minutes after the temporary halt, the two officers re-entered the interview room.
‘My client doesn’t deny that she has been to St Austell in the last few weeks,’ Grantham said. ‘What she will not agree to is the date that you mentioned.’
‘The video is time-stamped,’ Isaac said.
‘That may be the case, but has it been checked and calibrated recently? It could be faulty, or maybe the railway staff didn’t maintain it.’
Grantham had a point. It wasn’t a CCTV camera mounted on a traffic light looking for cars running a red light. It was a camera installed inside the railway station’s small car park. It wasn’t there to apprehend murderers. Its purpose had just been to monitor movement and to deter the budding Leonardo da Vincis who felt that spray painting graffiti onto the station walls was artistic licence.
‘If your client parked at the railway station, the question is why?’
‘I was tired,’ Samantha said. ‘I had driven down from London, hoping to get to Penzance.’
Any reason?’
‘I like to get out into the country sometimes. I’m a free agent, the children have left home, except for the youngest but she’s at boarding school most of the time.’
‘You must have checked how far it was.’
‘Not really. We used to go down to Penzance for our holidays when I was younger.’
‘Okay, you park at the railway station, then what do you do? Look around Penzance?’
‘Not that much. It wasn’t as I remembered it. I took the train back to St Austell, picked up my car and drove home.’
‘There was an old blue Subaru parked next to you.’
‘I can see it on the photo,’ Samantha said.
‘Where is this heading?’ Grantham said.
‘The woman in the Subaru was in a hurry to get up to London on a day return. She left the car open, the keys in the ignition. We’ve interviewed her. She’s a reliable witness. She has told us that she spoke to the lady in the car next to her, Mrs Matthews’ car, that is. Told her briefly her plans for the day.’
‘It’s flimsy evidence,’ Grantham said.
‘Inside the Subaru, Forensics has found strands of blonde hair. On Liz Spalding’s clothing also. A DNA match has been confirmed.’
‘I’m not sure where this is heading,’ Samantha said.
‘You were at the funeral of Stephen Palmer. Is that correct?’
‘A long time ago, but yes, I was.’
‘Liz Spalding was a rival of yours for his affections.’
I believe that I’ve already admitted that I was having an affair with him.’
‘Don’t you find it strange that you were close to where your rival was murdered?’
‘A coincidence, what else?’
‘I think we’re wasting our time here, don’t you, Chief Inspector?’ Grantham said.
‘Your client has been charged with murder. We will require a DNA sample from her.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘It is within our legal rights,’ Isaac said. ‘Mrs Matthews, you have been charged with the murder of Liz Spalding. You will be held in our cells for now. Is that understood?’
Samantha Matthews looked at Fergus Grantham. He said nothing, just gave a slight sideways shake of his head.
Chapter 32
Jim Greenwood, aware of what had happened in London, focused on proof of Diane Connolly’s car having been in Polperro. He had spoken to Mrs Venter again, but she had to be deemed unreliable.
‘I saw a car down by the harbour,’ she said. ‘I’m certain it was blue.’
‘Do you remember the woman?’
‘I think I saw her up the lane, not far from where the poor woman died. But I can’t be certain, the mind wanders sometimes.’
As Larry had explained to him on the phone, ‘Even if we tie the woman into St Austell and to the Subaru, there is still an element of doubt. A smart defence lawyer, the witness unreliable and easily discredited, the jury disregarding the testimony. And even if we make the connection, Samantha Matthews could claim that she had gone down there just to chat with the woman and that it was an unfortunate accident.’
‘I’ll keep checking,’ Greenwood said.
Samantha
