‘There must be two ways into the farm,’ Larry phoned the patrol car officers to come up to the barn. Intuition told him it was where they should be looking.
It was a potential crime scene. All four donned coveralls, gloves and shoe protectors.
‘Better safe than sorry,’ Wendy said. She took a photo of the tyre tracks clearly imprinted in the drying mud and sent it to Bridget who forwarded it to Gordon Windsor.
‘It’s the same tread as the Mercedes in the car park,’ Bridget said. ‘I took a few photos when we were out there looking at it.’
Larry opened the barn door; it creaked. He smelt the hay. At the back of the barn, the ropes that had been used to restrain someone, the drag marks on the ground. He retreated from the barn, careful not to disturb possible evidence.
‘Anything?’ Wendy said.
‘Phone Gordon Windsor, tell him to get his team here.’
***
Isaac saw one flaw in the investigation. He was standing, unusual for him as he preferred to sit when conversing, but everyone except Bridget was out of the office, so he was on the speakerphone in the conference room.
‘We’ve lost focus,’ he said. ‘If Jim Greenwood and Forensics make the connection, provide unassailable proof that Samantha Matthews is guilty of the murder of Liz Spalding, if Gordon Windsor finds evidence of foul play at McIntyre’s farm, there still remains the initial murder, the death of Marcus Matthews.’
‘Have we?’ Larry said. ‘I don’t want to dispute you, but aren’t these all pieces in the puzzle, the final piece yet to be found and placed?’
‘I’d agree, but it doesn’t alter the fact that we’ve got nothing. A room at the top of a house, a dead man, an owner who keeps feeding us dribs and drabs, hoping we’ll go away…’
‘Which we do,’ Wendy said.
‘Jim, you’re online. What’s the latest from your end?’
‘Forensics have been down, impounded the restaurant owner’s car, not that it stopped him complaining.’
‘A problem?’
‘Not for me. He can keep on bellyaching for all I care. We’re close on this one.’
‘Proof?’
‘Diane Connolly’s car has had a rough life. The woman, even though Mike Doherty’s got a thing for her, set himself up a date, is a lousy driver. The vehicle is a harlequin quilt, more than one or two scratches down the sides, a dent on the front wing.’
‘Where’s this leading?’ Isaac asked.
‘Sorry, a little excited. My first Homicide and it looks as though we’ve got a win.’
‘Understood, but it’s premature for me to offer you congratulations.’
‘Miss Connolly, who didn’t look after her car, barely roadworthy, had an accident ten months ago. That time it wasn’t her fault, a truck caught her on the right-hand side of the car, damaged it enough for it to spend time at a panel beater’s in St Austell.’
‘Where’s this going?’ Larry said. As good a man as Greenwood was, he could talk.
‘The panel beater did a matchup of the car’s colour. He’s still got a sample of the paint that he used. At least he did have, as Doherty’s been there with someone from Forensics; it’s now evidence and up in Plymouth for analysis.’
‘The paint on your friendly restaurant owner’s car?’
‘Samantha Matthews caught it fair and square. A six-inch streak on the left-hand side of the rear of the car. Forensics have already conducted some analysis, a spectrophotometer, and the paint at the panel beater’s and down the side of the man’s car are a match.’
‘Conclusive?’
‘Ninety per cent. Forensics won’t put their name to it, not just yet. Later today they should, after they’ve conducted further tests.’
‘No sightings of the woman in the village?’
‘None that can be relied on. Just too many tourists in the place and she wouldn’t have stood out.’
‘Which means,’ Isaac said, ‘even if we can prove that she was in the village, she could still claim that it was Liz Spalding who became aggressive; that it was an accident.’
‘Which we know it wasn’t.’
‘Knowing and proving are two different things. She’ll claim, even at this late date, and after so many denials, that it wasn’t her fault.’
‘Lying will go against her,’ Larry said.
‘It doesn’t matter, not much, not if Grantham is representing her. He’ll say that she was frightened, unable to comprehend what had happened that day. Her husband’s body had just been found.’
‘The daughter of a gangster,’ Wendy said. ‘Another reason she’d not want to state that, guilt by association.’
‘It’s unlikely that Grantham will use that, not unless he has to.’
‘He will,’ Larry said,’ if McIntyre’s daughter’s freedom’s at stake.’
‘We might not see a conviction for first-degree, but it’ll be hard to wriggle out of second-degree,’ Isaac said.’
‘We need the proof today,’ Larry said. ‘We can’t hold her indefinitely, not with Grantham on her case, and her father will bring up heavier guns if he has to.’
‘An inappropriate term,’ Isaac said.
‘More senior legal advisers are what I meant to say.’
‘Money’s no object as far as his daughter is concerned. Larry, you’re with Wendy and Gordon Windsor. Good job by the way.’
‘Does McIntyre know we’re here?’
‘Not from us, not yet. Any reason to let him know?’
‘It might faze him if you confront him with the fact.’
‘He’s not in the station at present, although he’ll be back soon enough. How soon before one of you two can be back in the office?’
‘I can be there in ninety minutes,’ Wendy said. She knew what was likely to be discovered at the barn. She had seen her share of bodies, and judging by the blood and Hamish McIntyre’s reputation, they would be barely human, more reminiscent of the offal at a slaughterhouse.
‘I’ll stay,’ Larry said.
‘Wendy, ninety minutes. We’ll caution McIntyre,
