‘Four suspects, each with a rock solid motive. Her husband, Seymour Darling, Kipp Brown and now this Greg. And suicide still in the frame.’ Then seeing the Detective Superintendent’s quizzical look, he said, ‘What?’
Grace smiled.
‘Am I missing something?’
Grace shook his head. ‘Not you specifically. All of us, including me. We’re all missing something.’
‘Oh yes — what is it?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t bloody figured it out. It’s just a gut feeling — something’s not right.’
‘Not right?’
He was interrupted by his private phone ringing. It was Cleo.
Apologizing to Branson, he answered. ‘Hi!’
‘Can you talk?’ she asked.
‘I’m in a meeting. Anything urgent? How did it go at the school?’
‘They’ve accepted him! Bruno can start right away — I’m just sorting out his uniform now.’
‘That’s brilliant news — is he pleased?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Listen, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.’
‘Love you!’
Sheepishly, looking at Branson, he murmured, ‘Me too.’
As he ended the call, Branson asked, ‘What’s not right, Roy? What are we missing?’
Grace shoved the bundle of SIO files on Operation Bantam across to him. ‘Can you take a look through it for me with fresh eyes and see if you can find out?’
‘OK, sure. Want me to read it here or take it to my desk?’
‘Take it to your desk, bell me when you’ve finished.’
Branson looked at the thickness of the file. ‘In about three weeks?’
‘Try three hours.’
61
Monday 25 April
As the DI closed the door behind him, Grace sat and called Cleo back, but her phone went to voicemail. He left a message then sat quietly, thinking, ignoring the steady ping of incoming emails.
Few things in this imperfect world could ever be made perfect, or be made wholly right. But he knew in his heart that he always tried his damnedest. It had destroyed his first marriage to Sandy, and he hoped desperately it would never do the same for his second, to Cleo. But he knew equally from this career he had chosen, that however much he loved his family, there were always going to be times when, hard as it was on his private life, his work had to take priority.
Only occasionally, during rare moments of downtime when he had the opportunity to reflect, would he wonder whether, if he had known when he had chosen to work in Major Crime just what it would mean to his home life, might he have chosen a different career altogether — or at least a different area of policing? And always he came to the same answer. No, never. There was nothing in the world he would prefer to be doing. This job had almost chosen him — perhaps, he wondered sometimes, he had the same certainty about it as priests who had a calling. It felt like his destiny, and the principal reason he existed.
And this despite the knowledge that whilst the scales of justice hung from the statue on the roof of the Old Bailey, the Central Criminal Court, the crime and the punishment rarely balanced — especially when it came to murder. Sooner or later most murderers would be freed on licence. Killers might walk out of jail; but murder victims would never walk out of their final resting place.
In those moments of doubt, he would recall what he had learned at police college all those years back, when he had been training to be a detective. The FBI moral code on murder investigation, written by its first director, J. Edgar Hoover: ‘No greater honour will ever be bestowed on an officer, nor a more profound duty imposed on him, than when he or she is entrusted with the investigation of the death of a fellow human being.’
There was something else, incredibly wise, that Hoover had also once said, that Roy Grace agreed with: ‘The cure for crime is not the electric chair but the high chair.’
It wasn’t only the impact on his family life that got to him at times, it was all the bureaucracy that the police were saddled with these days. Sure, public accountability was important — police officers were, after all, public servants. But the extent to which they had to justify every action could be wearing. The current Independent Police Complaints Commission investigation into the death of Corin Belling would take hours, if not days, of his time and quite possibly lead to a hearing which, if it went the wrong way, could result in him being disciplined — or worse.
But for now he put that aside, focusing back on Lorna Belling. He wanted Guy Batchelor to remain as deputy SIO, but at the end of the day the ultimate responsibility rested with him, and if there was a screw-up, Cassian Pewe would be giving him short shrift for delegating to an inexperienced officer.
Thinking hard, he opened his notebook and picked up a pen from his desk. Four suspects. Plus a potential suicide as an alternative explanation. Corin Belling was a plausible suspect. As well as Seymour Darling — Mr Angry? Possible but unlikely — although clearly an irrational man, he could not be ruled out. Kipp Brown? An old flame who wanted more? What would he have had to gain by killing her? Lorna’s silence perhaps? OK, for a man in his position in society that could indeed be a motive. There were plenty of social studies that showed being a psychopath was one good qualification for succeeding in business. Kipp Brown displayed signs of psychopathy, for sure.
Suicide after discovering the bitter truth about the man who had promised her a future? Possible, too.
And now the new suspect, Greg. Mr Mystery Man. He needed to be found urgently and eliminated. Or not.
When you have eliminated the impossible...
He leaned forward and tapped his keyboard, calling up the Murder Investigation Manual. Then waited and waited. God, the sodding computer system could be so slow at times. It was a common frustration he shared with every member of Sussex Police — and with every officer he had ever met from any other force around the country. Just how ridiculously slow at times the computers could be. Another example of police bureaucracy — by the time decisions were made on a new system — often taking years — it was already archaic. And by the time it was installed and everyone had got their heads round it, systems had moved on a decade. And, of course, there was no budget to upgrade.
The Manual finally appeared and he navigated the index, clicking on MURDER INVESTIGATION MODEL.
Despite all his experience, Roy Grace was always aware of the dangers of being complacent. There were times when he felt the need to check and tick every box in order. Both to ensure he did not miss anything, but also to cover his back with Pewe.
First up on the list was Identify Suspects. He checked his entries in his Investigators’ Notebook, reading down the list; the reasons for each potential suspect, and the possibility of suicide.
Next came Intelligence Opportunities, which included house-to-house, CCTV and ANPR.
He updated the entries relating to the beer cans and cigarette butts, as well as Lorna’s phone, her possibly missing laptop, and the circuit board found in the flat.
Postmortem Forensics. The interim report from Theobald gave the cause of death as being: 1A. Head trauma. 1B. Electrocution. He also made a note that he was awaiting DNA results.
Crime Scene Assessment. He refreshed the details, noting the apparent missing picture on the wall.
Witness Search. He wrote a summary of Seymour Darling’s interview, and the further deployment of an outside enquiry team to do a house-to-house.