Old bones lie, p.26
Old Bones Lie, page 26
She paused the footage and sat back to think. Was there anything here that could help find Maggie’s killer? Unless Paul Devine and the rest of the gang were lying, they weren’t responsible for her death. Their DNA had been sent to the lab and, although Raymond hadn’t actually said, she presumed none of them was a match for the hammer. She looked again at the frozen footage from the jewellery shop then rose from her seat.
Bill was in the incident room, dipping a chocolate biscuit in a mug of coffee. ‘Can you find me the footage from Jardine’s Jewellers please?’ Clare said. ‘We requested it for the week leading up to Maggie’s death.’
‘Aye, no problem.’ He set down his mug and reached for a laptop. ‘Want me to email the link?’
‘Please.’ She wandered back to her office, lost in thought. Might there be something on the CCTV from Maggie’s last day in the shop? She hadn’t been in on the Monday but maybe the Saturday…
The phone rang, cutting across her thoughts and she clicked to take the call. Raymond.
‘Couple of things,’ he said. ‘First of all, your farmer.’
Clare held her breath.
‘No match for the hammer, I’m afraid.’
She sank back in her chair. Another dead end, unless it had been one of his farm workers. Then she gave herself a shake. Stop trying to bend the facts to suit your theory, she was fond of telling her officers. Time to take her own advice.
‘You said a couple of things?’
‘Yeah. The van. More luck there. Both Anthony Devine and Jack Sneddon’s DNA match samples taken from the van and the contents.’
It was something. Not what she had hoped for – Maggie’s killer. But at least they might have cracked the farm machinery thefts. There would be more than those two involved, though. She knew that. But one of them might talk – name names. She thought again about Paul Devine’s three accomplices. ‘Raymond, I’m sure you’ll have checked this but the three men we arrested last Friday night…’
‘Sorry, Clare. I did check. No matches.’
‘Worth a shot,’ she said.
‘Don’t forget you promised me dinner.’
‘Soon as I’ve caught my killer.’
She ended the call, wondering what to do next. They had to look further into Maggie’s private life. If her murder was nothing to do with the robbery or the farmer wanting her cottage, the killer had to be someone with a reason to want her out of the way. But who? And why?
A few minutes later a message arrived from Bill with a link to the jewellery shop CCTV. Her heart sank as she opened it and saw an array of files. She really couldn’t spare the time. Sara, on the other hand, with her keen eye for detail…
She found her in the kitchen, chatting to Chris. ‘Job for you,’ Clare said, steering the PC towards a spare laptop. ‘You’re looking for anything unusual,’ Clare said. ‘Any customer behaving oddly, anyone who looks like a shoplifter and any change in Maggie – if she behaves differently. Also, watch for signs she was taking from the till or even helping herself to the stock. She must have come by that money somehow.’
Sara nodded. ‘Might take a while, though.’
‘Not necessarily. It seems to be motion activated so if there’s no movement it’ll skip forward to the next customer.’
Jim caught her eye. ‘Maggie White’s mother’s on her way in. She arrived in the town this morning. Should be here anytime now.’
‘Thanks, Jim. Maybe ask Max to rustle us up some coffee when she gets here?’
* * *
Jean White was lean and wiry, her face weather-beaten from a life spent on the road. Or outdoors, certainly. Clare thought she might be in her sixties but perhaps exposure to the sun had aged her skin. According to Jim, she’d spent the last few years travelling in Europe, and was hiking her way round Ireland when the Garda had tracked her down. In spite of an itinerant lifestyle her printed leggings and fisherman’s rib jersey were clean and in good order, only her stout boots testament to the miles she’d doubtless covered. Her silver-grey hair was shoulder length and curly, held in check by two simple kirby grips.
She accepted the coffee Max had made but declined the offer of a biscuit. ‘When can I see my daughter?’ she asked.
Clare assured her she’d be taken to see Maggie as soon as possible.
She nodded at this. ‘How did she die?’
Clare chose her words carefully. ‘We believe she was hit on the back of the head when she was out in the garden.’
A spasm of pain crossed Jean’s face.
‘We don’t think she suffered,’ Clare said. ‘She’d have been rendered unconscious quite quickly.’
A frown creased her features. ‘I don’t know who would do such a thing.’ She met Clare’s eye. ‘Have you found him? The man who did this?’
Clare thought it interesting she assumed the attacker was a man. Admittedly most attacks on women were committed by men. But she wondered if there was anything to be learned from Jean’s assumption. ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘In fact, we were hoping you might be able to tell us a bit more about Maggie. It’s been difficult finding out who her friends were. Did she have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?’
‘Not that I knew, although I’d not spoken to her for a while. I mean there had been boyfriends over the years,’ she went on. ‘One even looked serious for a bit but I think she’s like me: a loner at heart.’
‘What about her father?’
‘Not around. I didn’t tell him when I realised Maggie was on the way. It wouldn’t have worked and I was quite capable of bringing her up myself.’
‘How did you manage?’ Clare said. ‘For money, I mean – if you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Bit of this, bit of that. I’m good with a needle and thread. I made clothes for myself and for Maggie. People admired them and asked if I’d make for them. Word got around.’ She paused, as if remembering. ‘I was offered a job with a dressmaker,’ she went on, ‘but I preferred my independence. It wasn’t always easy but we managed. Maggie was a great help.’ She nodded. ‘We were quite the little unit.’ She picked up the coffee and sipped it. ‘This is rather good.’
Clare smiled. ‘My sergeant. Temporary sergeant, actually. He makes a decent cup.’
‘I’d hang onto him,’ Jean said.
Clare hesitated, then went on. ‘I’m sorry to ask but can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Maggie?’
In spite of the circumstances, Jean’s eyes widened, as though this hadn’t occurred to her. ‘I assumed,’ she began, ‘I thought it must have been a random attack. Someone – disturbed, you know?’
‘It’s possible,’ Clare said. ‘But we do need to check if there’s anyone Maggie might have upset. Or someone who wished her harm.’
Jean shook her head. ‘I honestly don’t know. I’ve been away so much, you see?’
‘Did you talk on the phone? Or message?’
‘Now and then.’
‘And did Maggie ever share anything about her private life or social engagements? Or any worries she might have had?’
Jean sighed. ‘I wish I could help. But I really can’t recall anything like that.’ She glanced at Clare then away again, cradling her coffee cup. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘You must think me a dreadful mother. It’s just how we were.’
Clare smiled. ‘Not at all. I’m sure you were a wonderful mother to Maggie.’ She rose from her seat and took a card from her pocket. ‘If you need anything at all,’ she said, handing it to Jean, ‘please give me a call.’ She smiled. ‘And now I’ll ask one of my officers take you to see Maggie.’
Chapter 35
Clare sat on in her office after Jean White had left. Years of dealing with victims’ relatives had pretty much inured her to grief but there was something in Jean’s quiet demeanour she found particularly affecting. Then she gave herself a shake. There was work to be done and it didn’t do to dwell.
She wondered idly how the insurance expert was getting on. Would she confirm the jewels were the ones taken in the Jardine’s robbery? And then she remembered Gillian had been about to set up an alert for the couple’s cars when the expert had arrived. She rose from her seat and went to the incident room. Janey was sipping a mug of coffee and looked up when Clare approached.
‘Something I can do?’
‘Please,’ Clare said. ‘I’d like to get in touch with the Jardines but it looks like they’ve gone away for a few days.’
‘Mobiles?’ Janey suggested.
‘Not answering. The garage at the house is locked up, no windows, so I can’t tell if they’ve taken the cars or not. Could you put out an alert for them please? I think Gill started to do it but I needed her for something else.’
Janey said she’d do that and Clare wandered back out to the main office. She was starting to think Maggie’s attack might be random, as her mother had thought. There didn’t seem to be anyone with a motive to kill her. Apart from the cash found in the shed, she wasn’t particularly wealthy; and what she had would probably pass to her mother. She seemed to have few friends and, apart from the farmer wanting the cottage back, Clare could find no one who actually benefited from her death.
The door to interview room four opened and Gillian emerged. ‘The insurance lady, boss – she’d like a word.’
Helen Cosgrove had spread her equipment out on the desk, but the jewels were back in the metal case when Clare entered the room. She glanced at it. ‘You’ve finished?’
She pulled off a fine pair of gloves and put them in a small bag. ‘For now,’ she said. ‘I presume you’ll want to hang onto these until you conclude your investigations?’
‘That rather depends on what you found.’
Helen smiled. ‘As I said earlier it’s not possible to carry out a full assessment here but I’ve seen enough to be fairly sure.’
Clare waited.
‘I believe the contents of this case match the claim submitted by Mr Jardine in the number and type of items: the correct number of watches, rings and so on. However, there the similarities end.’
Clare’s eyes widened. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that Mr Menzies’ assessment was correct. While some of the items are exactly as per Mr Jardine’s claim, the vast majority do not match the claim and receipts he submitted.’
Clare stood for a moment trying to process this. Then she said, ‘What does that mean?’
‘Well, the receipts submitted were from reputable dealers so I don’t doubt Mr Jardine purchased the items he claimed were stolen. But these,’ she indicated the case, ‘many of these are far lower in value.’
‘Could Mr Jardine have mixed up his stock, in the panic of the robbery? Claimed for the wrong items?’
Helen shook her head. ‘Unlikely. Mr Jardine has been a jeweller for almost thirty years. Plus our assessors did a full stock check following the robbery. The items claimed for were definitely missing.’
‘So,’ Clare said, speaking slowly, ‘either these are not the items stolen in the Jardines robbery—’
‘Or Mr Jardine’s claim was fraudulent,’ Helen finished. ‘Either way, we’ll certainly want to look further into this, once you release the jewels.’ She began packing up her equipment. ‘But I’m guessing you’d prefer to raise the matter with Mr Jardine yourself.’
* * *
Clare called Chris and Max into her office and relayed the conversation she’d had with Helen Cosgrove.
‘Could be a mistake,’ Max said.
‘It could be, but I don’t think it is and I don’t think Helen Cosgrove does either. I reckon he’s bought that cubic whatever it is.’
‘Cubic zirconia,’ Max said.
‘Yeah that. I reckon he’s bought it from eBay, or the dark web, even. He buys it cheap, no questions asked. Probably pays with bitcoin so it can’t be traced. Then he sells it in the shop for a bit more, offering a discount for cash. If it doesn’t go through the till he doesn’t pay tax on it. Neat little scam.’
‘And he’s given that cheap stuff to Devine?’ Chris asked.
Clare angled her monitor so they could both see it and she clicked to view the CCTV footage from the day of the robbery again. ‘Here’s Maggie,’ she said, ‘in the window, rearranging things. Then see her react? Like she’s seen the men get out of the car.’
They watched for a few seconds then Clare said, ‘And now, here’s Devine in the shop. See how Maggie goes to start putting things in the sack but Finlay moves forward.’
‘Like he’s protecting her?’ Max suggested.
‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’ Clare said. ‘But I reckon he’s remembered the cheaper stuff under the counter; and he also knows a guy like Devine isn’t likely to spot the difference.’
‘So he claims for the expensive jewels that weren’t actually stolen,’ Chris said. ‘But surely the assessors would have checked his stock and receipts. They wouldn’t match with what’s missing.’
Clare shrugged. ‘He could have hidden the expensive stuff before they arrived. Kept it in his house – boot of the car, even.’
Chris rubbed his chin. ‘Pretty quick thinking, though, going for the cheap stuff with a gun in your face. Almost like he knew he was going to be robbed.’
‘I doubt it,’ Clare said. ‘I can’t see someone like Finlay Jardine in cahoots with Paul Devine.’
Chris nodded. ‘You’re probably right.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Our murder victim – Maggie – do you reckon she was in on the fraud?’
Clare nodded. ‘It’s possible. It would certainly explain the stash of money found in her garden shed. Maybe being interviewed under caution will persuade Mr Jardine to tell us exactly what happened on the day of the robbery.’
‘Want us to swing by the shop again?’ Chris said. ‘See if it’s open now?’
‘Yeah. Both of you go. Check the shop and the house. According to the note they left for the milkman they’re likely to be away for another day or two but let’s check anyway. And see if Janey’s had any luck with their cars.’
‘What about their credit cards?’ Max asked.
Clare frowned. ‘Need a warrant for that.’ She reached for the phone then remembered she hadn’t decided what to do about Ben’s job offer. ‘Erm, Max, could you phone DCI Ratcliffe please? Explain the situation and say we need a warrant for the Jardines’ phones and bank accounts. House and shop too, while you’re at it.’
Chris was looking at her, one eyebrow raised.
‘I’ve other stuff to do,’ she said, avoiding his eye.
She waited until they’d gone then she wandered through to the incident room. Sara was bent over the laptop watching the CCTV footage from the shop.
‘Anything interesting?’ Clare asked.
‘Not so far, boss. I’ve been right through it once. Just checking again. There is one thing, though.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Monday – the day Maggie was killed. According to the shop website they’re open until 5:30 p.m., Monday to Saturday. But,’ she dragged the mouse forward until the time showed 2:30 p.m. ‘See? He goes to the shop door and locks it and pulls down the blind.’
‘He closed early. Maybe it was quiet.’
Sara shrugged. ‘Suppose. It’s probably that. All the same.’
Clare wandered across to Janey. ‘Any luck with those cars?’
‘Nothing so far. They’ve not pinged any ANPR cameras since I plugged the details in. But hopefully soon.’
‘Maybe alert the traffic cars to look out for them,’ Clare said. ‘What do they drive anyway?’
Janey peered at the screen. ‘He has a grey Audi Q5 and hers is a blue Megane.’
Clare stood for a moment taking this in. ‘Megane?’
‘Yeah. Why? Ring a bell?’
She searched her memory. ‘It does. I can’t think why, though.’ And then she remembered. Tansy, the farmer’s stepdaughter had spotted a blue Megane driving slowly up the Toll Road. ‘There was a blue Megane near Maggie White’s cottage the afternoon she died,’ Clare said. ‘Driving slowly, as if it was lost, according to the witness.’
Janey frowned. ‘Sylvia Jardine was up near Maggie White’s cottage the day she died?’
‘Well, a car similar to hers certainly was. Quite a coincidence, if it wasn’t her.’
‘So we’ve got her, oh, wait – the DNA on the hammer, it was male, wasn’t it?’
Clare nodded. ‘It was, but if it was Finlay’s hammer it would have his DNA on it.’
‘And she could have worn gloves,’ Janey said.
Clare stood thinking then she came to a decision ‘Get on the radio, Janey. I want that car found and I want both Jardines detained on sight.’ She was about to head back to her office when she felt the phone buzz in her pocket. A message from Mandy, the officer she’d asked to take Jean White to the mortuary. She stood, staring at the message. She read it over twice to make sure she’d understood. Then she turned and walked out of the station, clicking to unlock her car.
Chapter 36
‘I don’t know what else to say.’ Jean White was pale but calm. ‘The body in there is not my daughter.’
The staff had given them a private room and Clare invited Jean to sit. Then she spoke to Mandy, her voice low. ‘You are sure the staff here haven’t made an error? Brought out the wrong one?’
