Taste of Blood

Chapter Three

Jane sat with Burrows and Stanley in the boardroom discussing how they would proceed with the investigation, given that as yet they had no statement from the victim. According to Burrows, the hospital was confident he would come out of his coma, but it might not be for a few days. Jane asked if there was any information regarding any previous medical issues that could result in a minor blow to the front of his forehead causing his present state.

‘Well, I’ve not been given any details,’ Stanley said. ‘I spoke to his wife, but she was in such a state when I interviewed her that I decided to ask at the hospital. I talked to a nurse on duty. She couldn’t give me any information, and the surgeon wasn’t on duty so I couldn’t get access to the victim’s previous medical history.’

‘Well, we will need to get that as soon as possible. You need to talk to his GP to confirm any other medical issues,’ Jane said.

Stanley flicked through pages of statements. ‘I’m doing that, gimme a break, OK? We questioned his wife about the iron bar, but like Burrows said, she was in such a state. She said she had never seen her husband with one and was certain he went over to see Mr Caplan empty-handed.’

Jane nodded. ‘That differs from Mr Caplan’s statement then. He said that Boon came through the garden gate waving it around, and that he warned him to get out, but he kept on heading towards him and... So basically, it’s his word against Boon’s, who as we know can’t say anything! What about Mrs Caplan?’

‘She claims that she was in the kitchen that overlooks the garden, and she heard Mr Boon but did not actually see the assault until her husband called her. She said she had to put their dog away as the gate was open. When she went out and saw him, she called an ambulance.’

Stanley tossed the statement down on the desk.

‘I think we need another round of enquiries and a visit to the hospital to see what medical history we can get from them. If you ask me, this is all about jealousy. The Caplans’ property is worth millions, and the couple are obviously minted, so Boon was probably just a bitterly envious bastard.’

Jane decided she’d go and talk to Mr and Mrs Caplan while Stanley went to have another session with Mrs Boon and the neighbours at number 10. Burrows was to go to the hospital and then join them at the properties.

Stanley could see that Jane was puffy-eyed, and he didn’t want to get into emotional stuff about Dexter, so he suggested they make their own ways there, saying that if there was any new development, one of them could then return to the station.

Jane parked her car outside the double gates of the Caplans’ rear garden. There was a NO PARKING sign attached to it, and the same sign was also pinned up on a smaller ivy-covered garden door. The driveway round to the courtyard was very obviously in need of repair, and there were potholes in the tarmac.

No sooner had Jane parked her car than a tall, slender man with wispy, thinning hair approached.

‘You can’t park there,’ he snapped.

‘Excuse me?’

‘This is a private area; this courtyard is privately owned, and there is no parking.’

Jane locked the car. ‘I am Detective Inspector Jane Tennison. I am here to speak with Mr Caplan.’

‘You can’t park here. Drive to the front of their property and park there. This is private land.’

Jane hesitated. The man was clearly in a tense state, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

‘And you are?’

‘Edward Larsson. My wife and I live at number 10 and we own this courtyard.’

‘Mr Larsson, as this is police business, I am sure that my parking here will not be a problem. So, if you will excuse me...’

He stepped back, his hands still clenched at his sides. Jane went to the garden door and pressed a bell. She heard a dog barking, then after a moment the latch was lifted. An attractive woman wearing jeans with high boots and a crisp white shirt stood in the gateway. Jane took out her ID.

‘I’m DI Jane Tennison. I would just like a few moments of your time to answer some questions. Are you Mrs Caplan?’

‘Yes, I am. Of course, do come in.’ She opened the gate wider, looked past Jane, then raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, I see the Gestapo is out. Did he try and make you drive around to the front of our house?’

‘Yes.’

‘Beyond belief, but please do come in. Are you all right with dogs? We have a Labrador puppy and he’s a bit boisterous.’

Jane followed her down a Yorkstone path, with mowed grass either side. There was a beautiful fountain and numerous olive trees in large wooden planters. To one side there was a patio with garden furniture and a large, rolled umbrella. The walls surrounding the patio were thick with ivy that was growing almost to the roof of the large three-storey house.

As Mrs Caplan opened the backdoor, a large Labrador hurtled out and ran past them into the garden. ‘I’ll shut him out, but he might make his way round to the rear garden. I just have to keep my eye on him in case he dives into the fishpond.’

The kitchen was enormous with a beautifully tiled floor and a long refectory table with matching period chairs and two long benches. Mrs Caplan offered Jane a coffee, but she declined and asked if Mr Caplan was at home.

‘Oh, he’s just gone to the post office, he’ll be back any moment,’ Mrs Caplan said.

Mrs Caplan led Jane to their sitting room, which was furnished with large mirrors and oil paintings crowding the walls. Through a window, Jane could see an indoor swimming pool, with sliding doors to the rear which led to the garden, where the puppy was happily chasing a ball around.

‘I was told that you were in the kitchen when the incident occurred?’ Jane began.

‘Yes, that’s correct. I was actually just in the laundry area beside the kitchen. I heard Buster barking and went out into the kitchen as my husband was calling me. I kept Buster inside and saw Mr Boon on the ground and David, my husband, shouted for me to get an ambulance. They came very quickly, thank goodness. Mr Boon’s wife came into the garden screaming that she wanted to get to her husband. She was completely hysterical and I tried to calm her down, but then the ambulance arrived. Shortly afterwards the police came.’

‘Did you see an iron bar, the one your husband claimed that Mr Boon was threatening him with?’ Jane asked.

‘No, I was asked that before. The police took the spade, I think; it was propped up by the garden shed not far from the double gates. David was distraught and just said over and over again that he was only defending himself. He had no intention of hurting Mr Boon.’

‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Almost eight years. We bought it two years before that, but it was in a dreadful state, so we spent that time rebuilding and refurbishing it from the roof down, so we could then put it on the market. David is in the property business, and I am an interior designer. We had hoped to sell over a year ago but this situation with the neighbours and planning permission has been going on for years.’

Jane nodded. ‘As you know, I just had a bit of a run-in with your neighbour at number 10. He said I was not allowed to park in front of your gates as it was private property. That seems very strange.’

Mrs Caplan sighed. ‘Yes, the Larssons are rather unpleasant, and ownership of the courtyard is a bone of contention. They use it as a car park for themselves and, though we have right of way, we are not even allowed to park in front of our own gates.’

‘Did the previous owners have the same problems?’

‘I really don’t know. But I think they were in a difficult financial situation, and due to the run-down state of the house we got it at a very good price. We’ve spent a fortune on it as an investment, but with the ongoing situation re the planning permission it has just become a money pit. And now this awful situation with the Boons...’

Mrs Caplan was close to tears. Jane plucked a tissue from a leather-bound box on the coffee table and handed it to her.

‘I’m sorry, Detective, I can’t remember your name.’

‘Jane Tennison. Did you keep in touch with the previous owners?’

‘No, I think he was a German diplomat, but we mostly talked to her. After they left, we found the rooms infested with fleas, and there were nests of rats and mice... It really was unbelievable how they could have lived in such squalor. I think there was something wrong with her.’

‘Unlike her husband, who just appeared to be stoned out of his head!’ said a man’s voice.

Jane stood up as David Caplan walked into the room. He was handsome, with dark black hair and grey sideburns, and a suntan that enhanced his blue eyes.

‘This is my husband,’ said Mrs Caplan as he sat down beside her. ‘Would you like a coffee, darling?’

‘Yes, please, Alice. I’ve been standing in line to post a parcel to my son in the US. There was someone in front of me who had a problem with a post office savings account that took over fifteen minutes to sort out... then there was something wrong with her pension.’

Mrs Caplan looked enquiringly at Jane, who nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Mr Caplan waited until his wife had left the room. ‘Has there been any news about Mr Boon?’

‘I’m afraid not, but we have someone at the hospital checking on his progress.’

He leaned back and sighed, shaking his head. ‘It’s unbelievable. I am obviously aware of the repercussions if the poor man dies. As you can imagine, it’s very stressful, especially for Alice.’

‘I read your statement, Mr Caplan, after you were interviewed at the station.’

‘David, please. To be honest, I was so shaken and confused at the time I gave my statement that I can’t really recall what I said.’

‘Would you mind if I recorded our conversation?’

‘Not at all, not that I think I have anything else to add about what happened.’

Jane placed her tape recorder on the coffee table between them. ‘What I would like you to do, Mr Caplan, is to take me through exactly what occurred from the very beginning.’

Jane pressed ‘record’ as he looked up to the ceiling.

‘Right... I was out in the small back garden, checking one of the flower-beds because the dog had been digging up plants. Mr Boon pushed the gate open, and he was obviously in a rage as he was red-faced when he came towards me.’

‘Can you recall what he said?’

‘Yes, it was something like, “I’ve had enough, you are trying to move the boundary line, I can prove it, I am warning you”.’

Jane nodded. ‘And then what did he do?’

‘He had this iron bar in his hand, and he was swinging it as he was talking, or shouting. He had made numerous verbal threats, vocally and in letters, making accusations about me lying to the council.’

‘I will need to see the letters, but can you try to concentrate on exactly what Mr Boon said to you when he confronted you in the garden?’

‘I’m sorry, yes. He said he had warned me about the fact my gates were over his boundary, and he was going to prove it and stop any building commencing. I had just had the planning permission granted to erect a wall and electric gates and they had no right to stop me. When I say ‘they’, it’s the Larssons who own the courtyard, and I think they use Mr Boon for their obsession, and it truly is an obsession.’

‘Please, Mr Caplan, I just need you to tell me what Mr Boon said.’

‘Like I said, he was shouting that he would stop any building commencing.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told him to get off my property or I would call the police.’

‘That was all?’

‘No, I think I swore at him. I called him a mental case, and then he came at me.’

‘Just a second... How far away from you was Mr Boon when you swore at him?’

‘He was about halfway down the path.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘He started to swing this iron bar at me.’

‘Describe the bar?’

‘It was about fourteen inches long, not very thick, and he was doing this...’ He gestured with his right hand, making a swinging motion.

‘You seem very certain it was an iron bar, not perhaps a stick?’

‘Well, I suppose it might have been some kind of stick, but it looked very solid and it was black.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘I backed away from him and when he still kept on coming at me, I picked up a spade, to warn him to stay back.’

‘Did you warn him verbally?’

‘Yes, I told him to get out, but he swung the bar at me again and... it was not my intention to strike him with the spade... I was just trying to protect myself; I was trying to knock the bar out of Mr Boon’s hand, I didn’t mean to hit him on the head.’

‘Did you strike him with the front or the back of the spade?’

‘The back of the spade... maybe where the handle joins the spade.’

He went on to describe how Mr Boon had fallen backwards, and then his wife had come running into the garden screaming, and Alice had come out.

‘I told her to call an ambulance and I put Mr Boon into the recovery position. Then Buster got out as Alice had left the kitchen door open, so he was running around the garden and Mrs Boon was screeching hysterically. She was trying to get her husband to sit up, but I told her to leave him lying down. Buster went out into the courtyard; you know he is still only a puppy and could have run from the lane into the main road, so I had to get him back, which I did, and the ambulance arrived very quickly after that.’

‘Who called the police?’

‘Mr Larsson, I think, but by this time I was obviously very disturbed by what had happened, and then the two officers came in to talk to me and then...’ He sighed, shaking his head. ‘I was arrested on suspicion of assault.’

‘Did Mrs Boon go in the ambulance with her husband?’

‘I don’t think so... Mrs Larsson came and looked after her and then I think she drove her to the hospital later.’

Alice walked in with a tray of coffee and biscuits as Jane turned off her tape recorder.

‘Sorry this took so long, but Buster went back to digging up the plants.’

‘I just need to ask a few more questions,’ Jane said.

Alice glanced at her husband and he held out his hand for her to sit beside him on the sofa.

‘I know you have been asked about it before,’ Jane said, ‘but it’s very important. The officers that were here the day of the incident couldn’t find this iron bar.’

Jane switched the tape recorder back on.

Mr Caplan frowned. ‘I went into the garden to search for it while the officers were here at the house. We couldn’t find it anywhere... I mean, it had to have dropped from his hand when he collapsed, but... I even looked around the courtyard. Alice, you looked for it as well, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, all I can think is that perhaps the paramedics took it when they took him away on a stretcher. We told the police officers they should ask the paramedics about it.’

Jane nodded. ‘I’ll talk to them. There’s also a possibility that one of the neighbours picked it up.’ She switched off the tape recorder and put it in her bag.

‘Thank you for your time,’ she said, standing. ‘And for the coffee. I will be in touch if I have any news regarding Mr Boon’s condition. In the meantime, I suggest you get legal representation, Mr Caplan, just as a precaution.’

‘I was advised to do that when I was at the station, but I found it all so ridiculous... but having had time to think about it, I’ve engaged someone — a good friend, actually — to represent me.’

Jane nodded and walked. As she approached her car, she paused to look across the tarmac at the two houses opposite. They were mock Tudor, with neat grass verges and paths leading from their front doors to the tarmac, and low wooden fences on either side. Jane then turned towards the two smaller, cheaper-looking properties. They also had garages beside their houses, and the same low fences, looking as if they needed a bit of repair. There were three cars parked, two at number 10 and one at number 7. She also noticed that some kind of trailing plant was growing along the entire length of the Caplans’ old fences, with overgrown bushes beside their damaged double gates. The whole business with the tarmac was bothering her, and she decided to check into how long they had lived at Clarendon Close.

As she was getting into her car, Stanley appeared, waving.

‘I wondered if I would see you... I came by earlier to visit Mrs Boon, but she was out so I went back to the station.’ He glanced at number 7. ‘Looks like she’s back, if that’s her car.’

‘Where’s yours?’ Jane asked.

‘Parked in front of the Caplans’. I had that nosy woman from number 10, Mrs Larsson, telling me I couldn’t park there. I was not about to tell her to fuck off as she seemed so wired up, so I went to the station to do a bit of research into Land Registry... have you got a minute?’

‘Sure, I’ve just come out from interviewing the Caplans.’

They got into the car.

‘You know this iron bar David Caplan says Mr Boon attacked him with? I asked if it could have been a stick, and when he told me his dog had run out into the courtyard I wondered if the dog had maybe picked it up and run off with it.’

‘The uniforms were pretty thorough, but I suppose if it was a stick, the dog could have dug a hole and buried it. I can get them to do another search.’

Stanley pulled out his notebook and flicked through the pages.

‘I had to do a lot of farting around to get to the bottom of all of this. Anyway, it turns out the manor house and all the land around had been owned by a Mr De Wilding. This all went back over twenty-five years. He began selling off sections of land, and those two mock-Tudor houses were built after a wood was chopped down. There was a hissy fit from the council because of protected trees, but it all came to nothing, just a few slapped wrists and a couple of fines. The two houses were built, and one sold for £200,000 and the other for £350,000. Then after De Wilding died, his heirs appear to have made a lot of cash from selling more land. You following me?’

Jane nodded. ‘Yes, go on.’

Stanley thumbed through his notebook. ‘OK, so after the heirs sold up all the land they could, the main property was left in a dilapidated state, and it was subsequently bought by a Mr and Mrs Victor Hoffman. He was German, and they had one teenage son, Sebastian. From old building applications it appears they intended to convert the house into flats, but they ran into major hitches with the council. The next thing that happened was a fire. I looked up old press reports... there were hints it might have been arson but nothing was ever proved. Then it looks like the Hoffmans ran out of money, after trying to get the insurance to pay for repairs, so they sold off the courtyard to Mr Larsson.’

‘How many years ago was that?’

‘Ten... so the Larssons were already living at number 7. I haven’t got the exact date when the Larssons tarmacked the entire courtyard, but it had to have been done before Mr and Mrs Caplan bought the property. They paid £220,000, which was a bargain due to the damage from the fire, and they’ve spent the last seven or eight years doing it up.’

‘So what is the value of their property now?’ Jane asked.

Stanley shrugged. ‘It must be in the millions, and it would have been a great investment if it wasn’t for the situation with the fence and the gates. The neighbours have blocked things for over a year, and obviously with that ferret of a woman not allowing any parking in the courtyard they would probably have to lower the asking price considerably.’

‘Did you find any discrepancies in what Boon claimed about the boundaries?’

‘Nope, but replacing the old fence with a brick wall and double electric gates would probably mean digging up some of the tarmac for the foundations.’

Jane sighed. From what Stanley had just told her there was a motive for Caplan to have struck Mr Boon intentionally; even more so if, like the previous owners, David and Alice Caplan were running out of money.

‘Do we know anything about the Caplans’ finances?’

‘I’m not sure that’s necessary until Caplan’s charged with something. And that depends on Boon’s medical history and whether he recovers.’

‘Right, I don’t suppose any update came in while you were at the station?’

‘No, Bill was going to Boon’s GP and then meeting us at the hospital. Do you want to come in and talk to Mrs Boon to see if we get anything? I won’t be able to control myself if I have to interview that Larsson woman.’

‘Let’s do both together. I doubt there will be any need for good-cop, bad-cop routines,’ Jane laughed.