Snapshot

18

The incident room, 5 p.m.

McQuarrie was there, making it clear that he’d be running the briefing. Challis acquiesced, vowing to hold another briefing as soon as McQuarrie left, to undo any damage or interference the man caused, intended or otherwise. Again he pondered the super’s motives. Was he instinctively protecting his son? His daughter-in-law? His own reputation? Or was it obstruction of a more calculated kind? Challis waited for McQuarrie to sit at the head of the table, then stepped across to the wall and propped it up morosely. Ellen flashed him a grin.

The setting sun angled across the chipped table and McQuarrie’s twitchy knuckles. ‘Inspector? We’ll hear from you first.’

Challis outlined his day. Then, true to form, McQuarrie double-checked every step of his account.

‘You talked to my son.’

Said almost accusingly. ‘I hadn’t expected to see him,’ Challis replied.

‘He’s got important commitments,’ McQuarrie said. ‘He made a racing visit up to the city, then came straight back to be with Georgia.’

You don’t have to apologise for him, Challis thought.

‘And you got nowhere,’ McQuarrie said. ‘He’s well respected, well loved. No enemies.’

‘Sir.’

‘And no witnesses.’

‘No.’

‘This Lisa Welch woman didn’t hear or see anything?’

‘No.’

‘But you think it’s possible she was the intended target?’

Challis gave his head a brief,, impatient shake. ‘No, sir, not really. It’s just a precaution. I thought it best to advise her of the danger, but on the face of it she’s not involved.’

‘Still, I want you to dig a little deeper. You never know.’

‘Sir.’

‘Good,’ McQuarrie said briskly. ‘Now, my daughter-in-law. Sergeant Destry?’

Ellen flashed McQuarrie an alert, humourless smile. ‘Sir?’

‘You spoke to Janine’s work colleagues this morning, I believe?’

‘Sir.’

And?’

Challis, unseen by McQuarrie, made a fleeting axe-murderer face at Ellen, who composed herself and reported that the office staff and other therapists at Bayside Counselling Services had alibis and were clearly baffled by Janine’s murder. ‘Meanwhile, we still don’t know who she was meeting this morning or why she was on Lofty Ridge Road. A note scribbled on her desk calendar simply says “Penzance North, 9.30”.’

‘Keep looking. What about disgruntled clients? Weird clients?’

‘We’re still looking into that, sir, but client confidentiality comes into it.’

‘How closely did you look at her work colleagues? For all you know there could be simmering resentments, jealousies, that type of thing.’

‘Not that we could see on a preliminary visit.’

‘Keep looking. She was at the top of her profession, you know. Bright girl.’

‘Sir,’ Ellen said, wanting to tell the super what she’d told Challis in the car that afternoon, that husband and wife had been made for each other.

‘Constable Sutton, anything to add?’

Scobie nodded. ‘I spoke to Mrs Humphreys, and-’

‘Who?’

‘She owns the house where Janine was murdered.’

‘And?’

‘She’s elderly, currently in hospital recovering from a hip operation.’

McQuarrie semaphored with his arms. ‘What about her?’

‘She has a goddaughter, Christina Traynor, who stayed with her for three weeks in April.’

The room went very still. McQuarrie cocked his head. ‘Do we know anything about her?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Get onto it.’

‘Sir.’

Challis uncoiled from the wall and sat at the table next to Ellen. He knew that McQuarrie would be leaving soon. ‘Sir, thirty minutes ago I had a call from Janine’s sister, Meg. She said something that might have a bearing on all this.’

McQuarrie looked put out. ‘Such as?’

‘Were you aware that Janine hated driving?’

McQuarrie looked puzzled. ‘I fail to see-’

‘In particular, she had a pathological fear of making right turns, of turning against oncoming traffic, and so whenever she had to drive anywhere she’d map out routes that involved mainly left turns, meaning that she often drove far out of her way to travel short distances. You weren’t aware of that? Robert didn’t tell you?’

‘I think he mentioned something about it,’ McQuarrie said evasively. Then he brightened. ‘But don’t you see? Everything points to one thing: Janine was the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘But there’s no indication that Mrs Humphreys was the right person or that her house was the right house,’ Challis said.

‘And Janine might have been followed,’ Ellen said.

McQuarrie said, ‘Keep an open mind, that’s all I ask. Any joy on the weapon?’

‘No ejected shells were found,’ Challis said, ‘but ballistics confirm that the shooter used a 9mm automatic’

The report had just come in. The usual kind of detail, two 9mm slugs, the lands and degrees of twist possibly indicating a Browning. ‘If our shooter was a pro,’ he went on, ‘and it seems he was, he’d have used gloves and got rid of gun, gloves and outer clothing as soon as possible.’

‘Not necessarily,’ McQuarrie said briskly. ‘We’re probably not dealing with rocket scientists here.’

Challis gazed at his boss for a couple of beats. ‘Quite right, sir.’

‘Have you spoken to everybody yet?’

You never reach everybody, Challis thought. ‘We will eventually.’

‘No time to lose,’ McQuarrie said, getting to his feet and making for the door in a faint eddy of aftershave. ‘I want to be informed of everything of importance the moment it happens. Meanwhile I think our most promising course of action is to look closely at the woman next door and the goddaughter.’

When McQuarrie was gone, Challis stood by the window to watch and wait. After a couple of minutes, McQuarrie strode across the carpark to his personal car, a Mercedes, finding time to reprimand two constables on their way to a divisional van. One, Challis noted, gave McQuarrie the finger afterwards.

The world restored a little, he returned to the conference table, saying, ‘That man’s been like a father to me.’

Then he waited. Would they think his remark in bad taste? But they grinned. ‘This job’s expanding before our eyes, boss,’ Scobie said.

Challis nodded. ‘And we’re going to be stepping on sensitive and powerful toes, so we do everything by the book. The super is going to stick his oar in at all stages, he’s going to want to steer the investigation, and he’ll try to protect his family. At one level, we’re going to let him do that. We’ll listen to him, we’ll follow up the lines of inquiry he suggests, for they’ll probably be those we’ve already thought of, and generally let him think he’s the driving force. At the moment he’s not calling for a full-scale task force. If things get too unmanageable, I’ll do something about it. Just don’t let him waste your time, okay?’

Ellen gathered her notes into a folder. ‘Are we ruling out Janine McQuarrie as the intended victim?’

‘No,’ Challis said bluntly, ‘no matter what the super thinks.’

He saw Ellen sneaking a look at her watch. ‘Go home,’ he said. I’ll run Christina Traynor through the data bases; Scobie, I want you to keep checking for stolen cars, particularly older ones, pale in colour, but cast a state-wide net.’

‘Boss.’

Ellen continued to pack up her notes. ‘Did Janine’s sister say anything else?’

Challis could read Ellen by now, and shot her a look. ‘You think she’s trying to divert our attention away from Janine’s love life,’ he said.

Ellen shrugged. ‘I don’t think she gave us the full picture this afternoon.’

Challis nodded his agreement, just as one of the phones rang. It was the switchboard, looking for him. They had a man on the line who claimed to have information about the shooting of Janine McQuarrie. Challis told them to record and trace the call and put the caller through to him. He switched to speaker mode and said, ‘Inspector Challis.’

The voice emerged like a mouse from a hole. ‘Are you the guy in charge of the murder of Janine McQuarrie? The one on the news?’

Challis leaned forward, listening hard to the voice, the background noise and everything in between. It was hard to pinpoint the age. Slurred, which meant he’d been drinking or was stoned. Suspicious and wary: owing to the situation, or because he’d had dealings with the police before? No extraneous traffic or other sounds.

He said carefully, ‘Do you have something to tell the police?’

It was important to stay low-key: no hectoring, pushing or leading. It was also necessary to establish if the caller was a hoaxer or a sad character after a bit of attention.

In a rush the man said, ‘What if something happened you didn’t think was going to happen?’

Challis said gently, ‘We’re not in the business of blaming people for things they didn’t do.’

‘I didn’t think he’d go this far.’

‘Is this person a friend of yours? Are you afraid of him? We can offer protection.’

There was silence and the seconds ticked away and then the caller said, as if betrayed, ‘I bet you’re tracing this,’ and hung up.

‘Well?’ Challis said, glancing around at the others.

‘He wasn’t on long enough for a trace,’ Scobie said.

‘What was your impression of him?’

‘Genuine, boss.’

‘Ellen?’

‘Genuine.’

Challis said, ‘Right, we need it to go out on the evening news and in the papers tomorrow. Reporters are already swarming over this, so we won’t need to persuade them. The usual thing: Police are anxious to speak again to the anonymous caller who phoned with information regarding the murder of Janine McQuarrie. Who knows, it might shake something loose.’