Page 127 of Marble Hall Murders

‘Let me explain this my own way. All right?

‘I joined the police thirty-two years ago and nothing is the same. The cutbacks have been a big part of the problem. You know the old complaint. We’re not on the streets any more. Hardly a surprise when six hundred police stations in the UK have been shut down since 2010 – and there were only nine hundred to begin with. We’ve had our own self-inflicted wounds too. Scandals involving racism and sexism and all the rest of it. The result is that people no longer have much confidence in us. Trust and respect … all that’s gone.

‘At the same time, the whole landscape of crime has changed.The Landscape of Criminal Investigation! That was the book Atticus Pünd was writing – but what would he do if he walked into a crime scene nowadays? Think about it. The victim’s wearing a smartwatch. She’s got a smart TV, a laptop, a tablet, a smartphone, an Oyster card. Even the thermostat is controlled by Wi-Fi. And every one of these is a line of inquiry. Ninety per cent of reported crime now has a digital element, and don’t get me started on cybercrime! Social engineering, credit card fraud, old ladies being done out of their life savings.

‘The point that I’m trying to make is that what you’re involved in is an anomaly and it’s hardly surprising that some of my colleagues want to deal with it as fast as they can. Basically, my DS is right. I should have arrested you the moment that Rolex turned up. Be honest with yourself, Susan. Do you think there’s a jury in the country that wouldn’t convict you?’

‘Then why haven’t you?’ I asked. ‘Arrested me?’

‘Two reasons. I know you – a little. I don’t believe you killed Eliot Crace. And you were right, just a moment ago. Even if you had killed him, there’s no way you’d have stolen his watch. That’s rubbish. You might like to know that we found some of your DNA on the strap – but no fingerprints. What does that tell you?’

‘I’m sorry. I don’t have the faintest idea.’

‘Well, I’ll help you a little. We also found traces of sodium lauryl sulphate and calcium carbonate.’

I shook my head. ‘Maybe I’m being slow today, but I’m none the wiser.’

‘They’re ingredients used in the manufacture of toothpaste. What it means is that you never touched the watch – not unless you were wearing gloves when you ran Eliot over. But whoever planted it in your bedroom must have rubbed your toothbrush against the strap. They hoped to transfer some of your DNA—’

‘—but they also transferred elements of the toothpaste.’

‘That’s what I think.’

‘And do you have any idea who this mysterious person might be?’

‘That’s why I came to see you today, Susan. I think you’re better placed to find the answer than us. It would seem thatsomebody very close to Eliot Crace believes you were responsible for his death. They wrote the word “KILLER” on your bedroom wall. Who might that be? Eliot had a wife and a sister. Gillian Crace might have been angry with him, but she didn’t necessarily want him dead. He had a brother who had shared the whole experience of growing up in Marble Hall. His father, Edward Crace, wasn’t at the party, but he’s been unable to provide us with an alibi for seven o’clock that evening until the following day. The list goes on.’

‘So how do you think I can help you?’

‘You’ve spent the last few weeks rummaging around in the Crace Estate. You’ve been rubbing a lot of people up the wrong way. Has anyone threatened you? Has anyone said anything that might lead you to think they would want to hurt you? And here are a few questions. Somebody reported seeing your car in Trafalgar Square. They identified part of your registration number. So if it wasn’t a random member of the public, ask yourself this. Who knew you drove a red MG and might have got close enough to see the number plate? You drove to Marble Hall. You visited Dr Lambert. Was there anybody else?

‘Also, they must have found out you were going to be away for much of the day before they broke in. You’ve already said that you didn’t tell anyone you were going to HMP Belmarsh, but was there any unusual activity around your house that day? Could someone have been waiting until you left? And that broken garden door of yours. Had you mentioned that to anyone? Had you said you were fond of the cat?

‘Finally, I don’t want to scare you, but I think you should look out for yourself. I’m afraid I’m not in a position tooffer you police protection, so I’d recommend you stay in your friends’ house, if that’s possible. Don’t give anyone the address. If you do decide to go home, keep the front door locked at all times, even when you’re in the flat. Especially when you’re in the flat. I’ve had the garden door fixed, but don’t go in or out until you’re sure you’re safe.’

‘You think they might try again?’

‘Not at once. They’re waiting for us to arrest you. But when we don’t take any action, they may get impatient and come back. They’ve got it in for you, Susan, and they could decide to make another move.’

We walked on in silence. Somehow, we had curved round so that we were now heading back to the house. The father with the children had pulled in the kite. There were fewer people around us. The day was drawing to a close.

‘I’m sorry I doubted you,’ I said. ‘And it was wrong of me to accuse you of doing something illegal.’

‘Look, I can imagine how upsetting this must be for you.’ He paused. ‘But I have got one thing that may cheer you up.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That discussion we had about Eliot’s book. You said something very interesting about the stepfather, Elmer Waysmith.’

‘And …?’

‘I’m still not sure how much it will help me with my investigation, but I’m fairly certain I’ve worked out who killed Margaret Chalfont and why. Don’t ask me now! I need a day or two to think about it – but as soon as I’ve got it sorted in my mind, I’ll let you know.’

Special Delivery

Two days later, just as I was getting dressed, a car I recognised pulled up outside the house. I still hadn’t moved back into my flat while the decorators continued their work. I had given them my phone number and my new address in case any packages arrived for me, but it would be another few days before the place was habitable. I saw the car stop, quickly pulled on a dress and examined myself in the mirror. I hadn’t slept well. I was living out of a suitcase and it showed. I didn’t look my best – but there was no time to do anything about it. The doorbell rang. I went down.

Detective Constable Emma Wardlaw was standing on the pavement, looking at me in the sullen, ever-so-slightly hostile way she had made into her trademark. It worried me a little that she had come alone, but I smiled as if I was delighted to see her, knowing that nothing would annoy her more.

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