One of Us Is Dead

103 Thursday 27 October 2022

The two detectives entered the interview room at Brighton police station and sat down at the table, opposite the casually, but conservatively, dressed thirty-nine-year-old man. ‘I’m Detective Superintendent Grace of the Surrey and Sussex Major Crime Team and this is my colleague, Detective Inspector Branson.’

‘Nice to meet you, gentlemen,’ Taylor replied with an authoritative, slightly combative tone, as if to show he was on equal terms with the police officers and wasn’t about to be monkeyed around. Suddenly both of the officers appeared fuzzy, before coming back into focus. All kinds of shit had been going on inside his brain these past days. It was the result of his severe concussion, the consultant neurologist at Southampton Hospital had told him. He could expect his brain to play weird tricks on him for some while to come, until it settled back down. For that reason he was temporarily signed off from flying, and he’d also been advised not to drive until he felt fully recovered. Debbie had dropped him here and would drive him back home afterwards. Via somewhere nice for lunch.

Peering for some seconds at the swollen and badly bruised right-hand side of Taylor’s forehead and face, Branson said, ‘Looks like you took quite a whack. I understand you’ve been under observation in Southampton Hospital for the past week? I hope you’re feeling better now, and recovering?’

Taylor nodded, grimly. ‘Apart from a fractured skull, fractured orbital bone and a fractured cheek bone, I’m fine. Seems like Rufus Rorke had an interesting line in cabin baggage.’

Both detectives nodded. ‘Yes,’ Branson said. ‘A holdall with three different passports and driving licences, four mobile phones and £250k in cash, as well as a knuckle duster.’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Taylor said with a wry smile.

Smiling back, Grace said, ‘I know you have already been interviewed by two of my colleagues, we just have a few more questions we’d like to ask you.’

‘Am I under suspicion?’ Taylor asked warily. ‘Because if so I would like my solicitor present again — I’m using Paul Donnelley.’

The two detectives looked at each other at the mention of the solicitor’s name. Donnelley was a particularly sharp and astute opponent — neither of them ever relished coming up against him. ‘If you would be more comfortable,’ Grace said. ‘This is not a formal interview, and I can assure you that you are not under suspicion — we are only interested in understanding what happened on the morning of Tuesday, October the eighteenth and establishing the facts. OK?’

‘OK,’ Taylor consented, and then continued. ‘If I’m not under suspicion, gentlemen, can you explain why, after my RAF escort saw me all the way to Jersey, the Pilatus I was flying has been impounded by the police as a crime scene, preventing it from having urgent repair work? I have one very pissed-off boss at this moment.’

‘I appreciate that,’ Grace said. ‘But someone who was on your plane is dead, after exiting in mid-flight — as a result of actions you took in self-defence.’ He raised a pacifying hand. ‘I’ll come on to that, but it’s a necessary procedure for Jersey States Police, working in cooperation with us, to carry out a full forensic examination of the aircraft.’

‘Forgive me if I’ve got this wrong, Mr Taylor,’ Branson said. ‘But your boss, Mr Towne, owns another aeroplane he could use?’

‘He does, a Citation jet, but it’s a long-range aircraft and it’s not really economic to use it for the short-haul work we do most of the time.’

Branson gave him a bemused look. ‘No disrespect, but isn’t that rather a First World problem?’

Taylor granted him a small nod and a slightly reluctant smile.

‘OK,’ Grace said. ‘Let’s make something very clear, James — may we call you James?’

‘It’s my name,’ he replied. ‘Why not?’ But his humour was lost on the detectives.

‘The Pilatus you were flying was, as I’m sure you know, fitted with a factory optional extra of a voice and data recorder — which has a similar function to the Black Box recorders on all commercial aeroplanes,’ Grace said. ‘We’ve listened to the cockpit voice recording and had all the data analysed. Additionally, we have seen CCTV footage from Brighton City airport that shows Rufus Rorke surreptitiously entering your aircraft before it was towed from the hangar. I’d like to emphasize again that you are not a suspect in Mr Rorke’s death. In the recordings we’ve heard, it is pretty clear you were the victim of Rorke’s aggression.’

Taylor nodded. ‘How much do you gentlemen know about him?’

Grace replied. ‘Mr Rorke had been a person of interest to us for a very long time. Long before he “disappeared”, as it were, off a yacht off the coast of Barbados.’

‘He’d been of particular interest to me ever since I was certain I saw him at a funeral last month — September the twenty-third,’ Taylor said.

‘Why was that of particular interest to you?’ Branson asked.

Taylor paused for a beat before replying. Then with a wry smile said, ‘Well, because I’d delivered the eulogy at Rufus Rorke’s funeral over two years ago. I think you guys would have been pretty interested in finding out if he was actually still alive, if that had been you, right?’

‘There was no body at his funeral, I recall,’ Grace quizzed.

‘No, it was a slightly odd service.’ Taylor frowned. ‘You were there?’

‘One of my team was.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we had been close to arresting Rufus Rorke on a series of very serious charges, and we think he was aware of that.’

‘Is that why he disappeared?’

‘It’s one of our primary lines of enquiry.’

‘So, James, after you were certain you saw Rorke at a funeral a month ago — did that have anything to do with your trip to Barbados?’ Branson asked.

Taylor looked at him sharply, thrown by the question. And thrown by the detective’s hard stare. He thought carefully before responding. ‘I went there on holiday, to have a rest after running the Chicago Marathon. But yes, I was curious. I thought while I was there I’d try to talk to the fisherman who had apparently found Rufus’s jacket — or part of it.’

‘John Baker?’ Branson said.

Taylor studied his face to see if there was anything in his expression that hinted of a trap. But all he saw was warmth and friendliness. An ally, perhaps. ‘Yes, John Baker. Quite a character.’

The detective tilted his head to one side. ‘Well, that’s one way to describe him.’

‘Meaning?’ Taylor quizzed.

‘When did you last speak to him?’

Taylor hesitated before replying. ‘About a fortnight ago, when I was in Barbados. Why?’

‘Did you believe what Baker told you?’ Branson asked.

Taylor reflected for a moment. ‘There was something he said that didn’t ring true, so no, I didn’t. And bear in mind, I was convinced Rufus was still alive, so I figured he had to be lying.’

‘Was there a reason you didn’t come to the police and report your suspicions?’ Grace asked.

Taylor shrugged. ‘I thought you’d probably think I was crazy. After I saw him in the church, at the funeral, I went to the vicar and asked to view all the CCTV footage of the mourners arriving and leaving the service. Rufus didn’t show up on it. I then went to see his widow, Fiona. She seemed pretty convinced — and convincing — that he was dead.’

As he said this, Taylor noticed a strange glance between the two detectives. ‘Have I missed something?’ he asked.

Ignoring the question, Grace asked, ‘Can you talk us through your flight from Brighton City airport on the morning of Tuesday, October the eighteenth, in as much detail as you can recall?’

Taylor looked at him for a moment, pensively. ‘I’m not under caution, so I’m correct that nothing I say can be used against me in court?’

Grace nodded. ‘That’s correct, James. All we want to do is to confirm the facts leading up to Rufus Rorke’s fall from your aircraft to his death.’

‘I’ll do a trade-off with you,’ Taylor said. ‘I’ll talk you through everything I can remember from the time I arrived at Brighton City airport, if you can explain to me how the hell — if Rufus Rorke really did go off the back of a yacht, late at night, several miles off the coast of Barbados — he survived? Do we have a deal?’

Grace and Branson looked at each other. After a few moments they nodded. Grace turned to Taylor. ‘I think we can accommodate that.’