Blood Line

Chapter Sixteen

Anna woke early and repacked her things, but she doubted they would leave that night. She was finishing breakfast when Paul joined her at the small table laid for two. The other equally small tables were set with only a white cloth and a small plastic rose in a bottle.

‘You sleep well?’ she asked.

‘Out like a light as soon as my head hit the pillow.’ Paul poured himself coffee and Anna suggested he pack up just in case they did get the last train back to London, although they’d more than likely have to stay another night. They couldn’t be sure until they’d seen what they could come up with during the day. His breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage and fried bread was presented with a flourish by the landlady, who also brought in a fresh pot of coffee. Anna asked if she could have a word about the possibility of staying on and whether they could leave their bags in their rooms.

‘The rooms were booked for two nights.’

‘Fine – well then, expect us when you see us.’

Leaving them to finish breakfast and obviously not happy with the uncertainty of not knowing if they were staying or not, she departed to her domain.

‘Bit prickly, isn’t she?’ Paul remarked, eating like a starved man.

‘It’s her business, so who can blame her? I’ll see you upstairs as I want to look over the maps Williams left.’

‘Okay. When do we do the helicopter ride?’

‘Williams said early this morning. No doubt he’ll have the day organised, but we’ve a lot to get through. First port of call will be visiting the property Rawlins owns.’

Williams was parked outside the B&B waiting for them. It felt even colder today than the night before. He said he was a trifle concerned about the weather and that it might not be suitable for flying, but he hoped the wind would die down later in the morning. By the time they reached Alan’s house, it was raining hard. The large gates to the property were open so they were able to drive up to the parking area. It was only nine-thirty and it didn’t look as if anyone was at home.

‘Maybe they’re still in bed,’ Anna said as she got out of the patrol car. The wind whipped around her and she hugged her jacket close as she walked up the path accompanied by Paul and Williams. It was just as the photographs had shown; the white umbrellas on the patio were tied straight, but the wind was tugging at them and the double garage doors were closed. Anna rang the doorbell and waited, while Williams stepped back to look up at the windows, catching the movement of a curtain inched aside.

‘Somebody’s home so ring again.’

Anna tried twice, keeping her hand on the bell until eventually she heard footsteps. The door was inched open and a blonde girl of about eighteen peered out.

‘Yes?’

Anna showed her ID and asked to be let in as it was an urgent police matter. The girl stepped back and opened the door wider. She was wearing a short nightdress, was barefoot and her hair was tangled. She looked half-asleep. Anna did the introductions standing in the wide hallway with its stripped pine flooring, then asked if there was anyone else at home.

‘They’re in bed.’

Williams gestured to the girl to get them up and jerked his thumb towards an archway that led into a lounge.

‘We’ll wait in here, and Paul, you go on up with her. What’s your name, sweetheart?’

‘Kelly.’

‘Okay, Kelly, get a move on, love. Who else is staying here?’

‘My mum and my boyfriend. My dad’s not here.’

Kelly hurried up the stairs followed by Paul as Williams walked through the archway into the lounge and sat on one of the very comfortable low sofas. The furnishing was stylish, but there were empty wine bottles left around and he picked up an ashtray to indicate to Anna that there were a number of roaches amongst the cigarette butts. Old newspapers were strewn about on the floor by the grate, where there were the remains of a fire.

‘What do you want?’ A woman was dragging on a dressing-gown. She still had pins in her hair. ‘Is it to do with my husband? Has something happened?’

‘You are . . .?’

‘I’m Kelly’s mother, Norma Chapman.’

Anna introduced herself and Williams again as Norma pulled out the hairgrips.

‘We just need to ask you a few questions about this property, Mrs Chapman.’

Before she could answer Kelly returned with a young boy who looked so groggy he could have fallen over.

‘Sit down. Who are you?’

‘It’s Kelly’s boyfriend, Adrian Knowles; he’s staying with us.’ Mrs Chapman was now running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make herself look presentable.

The three of them sat on a sofa. Anna drew up a wicker chair to sit opposite them. Williams remained seated. Paul stood behind Anna.

‘Tell me how you came to be living here?’ Anna asked.

‘We’ve rented it for the next three years – my husband arranged it. He’s away on business in Scotland at the moment.’

It didn’t take long for Mrs Chapman to explain that her husband was working for a shipyard as a luxury yacht designer and he had arranged the rental through an estate agent. She was unsure about how the rent was paid, but believed it was by a banker’s draft to the owner’s account. She had never met the owner and she didn’t think that her husband had either. She gave them her husband’s mobile number and work number. She also mentioned that she had rented a car, and it was used by herself and her daughter. An MG.

Anna was disappointed, but proceeded to get out photographs of Alan Rawlins, asking the woman if she had ever met him. Mrs Chapman shook her head and passed them to her daughter, who also said she had never seen him.

‘What about you, Adrian? Will you look at the photographs, please?’

Adrian was barely awake. He blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then shook his head.

Next they were shown a photograph of Sammy Marsh. Both women said they had not met him, but then Mrs Chapman hesitated. She looked to her daughter.

‘Wasn’t he the one that came round here?’

Kelly shrugged and passed the photo to Adrian.

‘What about you, Adrian? Have you met him? He’s a drug-dealer. I noticed a few roaches in the ashtray. Did you meet up with him at all?’ asked Anna.

Mrs Chapman became very nervous. ‘Just wait a minute, what’s this about? I admit we’ve had a few joints, but that was because I have asthma and it helps me to sleep, but if you are here about—’

Anna interrupted her. ‘I’m not interested in whether or not you use cannabis.’

‘I use it to help me sleep!’ The woman’s voice was shrill.

‘Did you score it from this man in the photograph?’

‘No, but I think he might have been the man who called here. Adrian, didn’t you see him?’

‘No.’

Mrs Chapman grew even more agitated, taking back the photograph for another look.

‘It was just after we moved in. We sold our place in St Ives and we’re eventually going to buy somewhere, but my husband reckons we should wait for the prices to get lower so that’s why we rented this house.’

‘Tell me why you think you saw this man?’

‘Well, I could be wrong. The reason I remember is because it was late at night. He asked about someone and I said we’d just moved in.’

‘Do you recall the person he asked to see?’

‘No, I’m sorry. Like I said, it was very late at night and I didn’t even like opening the door. I also kept the chain on because there was something about him.’

‘Was it this man?’ Anna showed her another photograph of Sammy.

‘I think so. He was very jumpy, I remember that, and it was only for a couple of minutes. Oh yes, something else – we’ve got the gates at the bottom of the drive and he had to have known the code to open them. That’s what I remember now.’

‘But they were open when we drove up.’

‘They are now because something’s gone wrong with the mechanism and we’ve asked for it to be fixed. I think Kelly clipped them one time coming home.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Well, they’ve not worked since. But that was what sort of unnerved me about him; you know, that he knew the code to open them.’

Anna glanced towards Williams. He gave her a small shrug.

‘If you scored from him, Adrian, admit it. We are trying to trace him in connection with a murder enquiry,’ he told the youth.

‘I never, I never.’

‘Did you find any papers or documents left by the owner when you moved in?’ Anna asked, looking to Mrs Chapman.

‘No. It was spotless as the property had just been renovated. Most of the furniture was new and we had to agree to have the cleaner that the agents suggested, but we pay her. We need someone to look at the barbeque as it doesn’t light up properly – the gas doesn’t go through.’

‘Can you just repeat to me exactly the method of paying the rent?’

‘My husband deals with all that. I’ve never even seen the agreements.’

Anna stood up ready to leave, but Williams remained seated.

‘Can you show us some identification, Mrs Chapman?’ he asked. ‘Passports, driving licence?’

Anna turned and looked at Paul as Mrs Chapman got up and left the lounge. Williams now addressed Adrian.

‘Listen, son, I’m not coming after you, but if you scored your dope from Sammy Marsh I want to know about it.’

‘Who?’

‘This man.’ He shoved the photograph under the boy’s nose.

‘No, I never met him. I got it from a bloke at the Smugglers café months ago.’

‘He got a name?’

‘Raj, that’s all I know.’

‘Young, old? Describe him.’

‘He’s Indian, used to work there when we first arrived, but he’s not there now.’

Mrs Chapman returned with passports and handed them to Williams, which slightly annoyed Anna. He flicked through them and then passed them to Anna.

‘Your husband’s American?’

‘Yes, from Kansas, but he’s lived here for twenty years.’

Anna gave the passports back to her and asked if she would be kind enough to show her and Paul around the property. Williams said he would wait in the car.

Anna and Paul returned to the patrol car where Williams was waiting.

‘Untidy woman – every room is a tip, but it looks like it cost a lot to modernise and furnish the place so they must be paying a considerable amount.’

‘Not necessarily. On a fixed three years’ rental they probably got a deal, but I’ll check it out,’ Williams promised. ‘I think we need to chat to the cleaning lady, so we’ll go to her place next.’

They drove in silence for a while and eventually Paul asked from the back seat if they thought they had gained anything from the Chapmans’ household that was of interest.

‘Only the fact that Sammy was hammering on the door in a bit of a state and it’s around the time he went missing six months ago,’ Williams said abruptly.

‘What about her husband being an American?’ Anna asked.

‘Doesn’t pull my strings, Kansas. If he’d been Colombian I might have been interested. Anyway, I can check him out. In fact, I’ll do it now.’

True to his word, Williams rang the station as they drove, asking them to contact Mr Chapman and arrange for them to see him as soon as possible.

He next asked his team if there was any news from the pilot regarding the helicopter trip, but there wasn’t. The weather was still very blustery, the rain now lashing down.

Anna was frustrated. Williams being so dominant put her off her stroke and she considered asking for the car he had arranged so that she and Paul could work by themselves. Williams’s priority was obviously tracking down Sammy Marsh whereas hers was Alan Rawlins. She felt that she would make more headway without him.

The small terraced house was on the outskirts of Newquay and Mrs Flowers, a robust woman in her late sixties, was expecting them. She ushered them into a small sitting room, where thankfully a fire was lit as Anna was now freezing. Anna didn’t waste time, but began asking about the rental property.

‘I’m there twice a week, should be three times but she told me they didn’t need me so I do what I can while I’m there. It’s not the way he would like it as he’s ever so particular.’

‘When you say “he”, Mrs Flowers, who are you referring to?’

‘Mr Matthews. He’s got a flat as well which I used to clean, but that’s too far for me to go now.’

‘Is this Mr Matthews?’ Anna showed her the picture of Alan Rawlins.

‘Yes. Lovely young man he is.’

Anna’s pulse-rate jumped. ‘When did you last see him?’

Mrs Flowers licked her lips and then got up to fetch a thick notebook.

‘I can tell you exactly. He said he was here on a flying visit as he was not going to move into his new house, but rent it out. I’ve known him for quite a while now – about four years.’ She sat thumbing through her book, then passed it over to Anna.

‘It was seven months ago. He said he would arrange for me to keep an eye on the property. I’ve made notes for him of the damage. They’ve broken the gates, the kitchen is a real mess, and him being so particular everything was brand new. I can’t shift the grease on the cooker and the microwave is always filthy. They never wipe around it after they’ve cooked in it.’

‘Tell me about him.’

‘Well, as I said he was a lovely chap. I often used to do his washing and ironing when he was down here.’

‘Did you ever meet his fiancée?’

Mrs Flowers flushed and folded her arms.

‘Her name is Tina Brooks.’

‘Look, I don’t like to gossip, but I didn’t think he liked women.’

‘Why do you say that?’

She flushed again and glanced at Williams.

‘When Ed here was asking me about him, I told him that a few times Mr Matthews had guests – men – and he only had one bedroom.’

‘Did you ever hear him being called a different name?’

‘Who?’

‘Mr Matthews.’

‘No, but you know I just went in to clean, take his laundry back and forth. It was just a small place and he often wasn’t there. He always left me my money, not like some of them, and when I last saw him he said if I did a good clean-up as he was leaving, he—’

‘Wait a minute. Was this when you last saw him, when he told you he had rented out his house?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘So when you cleaned, did you find anything left by him?’

‘No. He was very methodical. However, I did find . . .’ She stood up and walked to the door. ‘I never use the stuff myself, but my daughter-in-law when she stays has tried them out and says they’re very good.’

Mrs Flowers returned with half-filled bottles of shampoo, conditioner and moisturiser and all had Tina’s Salon labels on them.

‘It’s not as if I was stealing – he’d left them in his bathroom cabinet.’

Anna smiled, looking over the items.

‘When he said he’d rented out this house he had here, did you find that odd?’

‘Well, yes, I did. It had taken so long to be fixed up I presumed he was going to be living there himself. He had books of fabrics and magazines. I took some of those, but I’ve thrown them out.’

‘Did he ever tell you where he was going to be living, if not at his house?’

‘No.’

‘Did he seem like his usual self on the last time you say he saw you? You said he told you it was a flying visit.’

Mrs Flowers shrugged. ‘I put it down to the fact that he was renting out that lovely property. I mean, I never asked about his financial situation, but I reckoned it was because he was short of money.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, for one he was in a terrible hurry, a bit agitated, and kept on looking at his mobile phone as if he was expecting a call.’

‘Did he have any luggage with him, as if he was going away?’

‘No, just his briefcase and a small overnight bag. He said he would be out of touch with me for a while and to liaise with the estate agents if anything went wrong at the house. He said they would handle everything.’

‘And you’ve not heard from him since?’

‘No, dear, not a pip.’

Back in the car, Anna leaned her head against the headrest.

‘Not a pip,’ she repeated.

‘The time he was down here arranging the house coincides with him taking a holiday break from his work. It sounds to me as if he was planning on doing a runner,’ said Paul from the back seat.

Anna made no reply, but simply stared ahead before addressing Williams. ‘You interviewed her before, right?’

Williams nodded, explaining that Mrs Flowers had also at one time cleaned for Sammy, but he was always late paying her. He then said that it was possible Sammy had recommended Mrs Flowers to Alan Rawlins.

‘Christ, he kept up using Daniel Matthews’s name for years!’ Paul exclaimed.

‘Maybe he was planning to do a runner for that length of time,’ Williams suggested.

Anna disagreed. ‘Maybe he was planning to leave Tina and London to live here, but something changed his mind, and it had to have happened around the time he arranged to rent out his house.’

She looked out of the window. ‘Where are we going now?’

‘I thought you would like to have a coffee and meet the team at the station.’

‘I would, but do you have access to Sammy Marsh’s place? You said he’d upped and left it as well.’

‘Yes, and legally, as he’s wanted, it’s still in our possession. You want to go there now?’

‘Yes, if you don’t mind.’

Williams gave her a sidelong glance and then put in a call for an officer to be at Sammy’s flat with the keys.

It took almost three-quarters of an hour to get to the flat, which was in a modern block with small balconies overlooking the beach, and lock-up garages to one side. The place looked in very good order. Williams parked, and as they headed towards the entrance a patrol car drew up with DC Harry Took driving. He didn’t get out, but dangled the keys out of the open window. Williams took them, and they headed into the apartment block.

‘Sammy also had numerous rented flophouses, plus the caravan,’ he told them, ‘but he bought this place a few years ago. We’ve checked out all the other places and they’ve been let out since he disappeared – apart from the caravan obviously, because it was trashed.’

‘So Mrs Flowers also cleaned for Sammy?’ Anna mused.

‘Apparently a few years ago she did, but like I said, he was always late paying her and the rentals were always left in a terrible state.’

Williams used an entry code that opened the glassfronted reception door. There were eight flats and Sammy’s was the large one on the top floor, which they reached via a small lift. Anna was impressed. It was all well decorated, and Williams observed it would have cost about four hundred grand, and was probably worth even more now. Most of the tenants were retired elderly couples who lived in the flats all year round, but a few moved out and rented their homes for the summer, to make some money.

Williams used two keys to open up the front door. There was no hallway; it opened into a huge lounge with spectacular views across the bay.

‘It’s pretty much left as we found it,’ Williams said.

‘How did you get the keys?’

‘From the caretaker. He doesn’t live on the premises so couldn’t give us any details about who came and went.’

Anna looked around the tasteful room. There were huge floral-fabric sofas and matching armchairs, a glass-topped coffee table and a small bar close to the sliding doors to the balcony.

‘Best place I’ve ever seen a drug-dealer live in,’ she said.

‘Yeah, compared with the other shitholes. He had places all over the main beaches that he rented, mostly just bedsits. You can see from here, the boat is moored at the dock in front of the property.’

The boat was covered in a tarpaulin. It was amongst numerous others and yet the size of it was impressive.

‘Cost two hundred grand and is very fast.’

Drawers had been left open in a fitted cabinet.

‘You find anything of interest in there?’ Anna asked.

‘Nope. Lot of bills for his furniture, and wait until you see the kitchen – cost a fortune and looks like it was never used.’

They looked into the high-tech, very well-equipped kitchen. As Williams had said, it didn’t look as if anyone had ever used it. New crockery filled the glassfronted cabinets and some of the cutlery still had the prices attached.

‘He must have come into a lot of cash to own a place like this,’ Paul said, looking around.

‘How many bedrooms?’ Anna wondered.

‘Just the one. Follow me.’ Williams led them to one side of the immense lounge and pushed open a door. The room had white carpet, white walls, the bed was unmade and clothes were strewn around with the wardrobe doors left open. The clothes were mostly designer jeans and flash T-shirts, rows of trainers and boots with Cuban heels, and there was even a drawer dedicated to thick gold bracelets and chains.

‘Left in a hurry, wouldn’t you say?’ Williams said as Anna fingered the heavy gold bracelets. There were a few empty boxes and a gold Rolex watch.

‘You know how much these cost?’ Paul asked, opening the case.

‘We do, and . . .’ He turned as Anna was drawing the sheet away from the bed.

‘Have Forensic checked out the bedlinen?’ she asked.

Williams shook his head.

‘We would like this done, if it’s possible, to check for any DNA.’

‘I can organise that, but basically we’re only just beginning to consider that he might have been bumped off. If he hasn’t been, I’d like to get my hands on him. I told you we found a few fake passports – good ones.’

They opened the bedside drawers, which were full of gay pornography and lubricants. There were also numerous DVDs with lurid titles. Paul entered the en-suite bathroom and after a moment he came out and gestured for Anna to join him.

There was a mirrored cabinet beside the huge Jacuzzi bath with gold dolphin-shaped taps and a glass screen around it. White towels were stacked on a shelf beside the bath and hung on gold rails. Paul had opened the cabinet to reveal fake tanning lotions, bubble bath, bath oils, shampoos and conditioners.

‘What?’ Anna asked, looking around the bathroom.

Paul held up the shampoo container. It was identical to the one shown to them by Mrs Flowers. Tina’s Salon labels were on the shampoos, the conditioners and massage oils.

Anna turned to Williams. ‘This is confirmation that Alan Rawlins knew your drug-dealer.’