Remember Me Page 8

  Ford comes into the office and throws his jacket over his chair. Greene looks up.

  ‘I hope your day has been more productive than mine?’ Greene says.

  ‘Not sure sir, I didn’t get much out of Pratt’, Ford says.

  ‘So tell me about her.’

  ‘Well, she’s in her fifties or thereabout, a bit stocky, could make two Estelles out of one Pratt. She is, by the way, Mrs. Pratt, and has a daughter in nursing school in London. Husband apparently died barely a year ago.’

  ‘Why is she called just Pratt, not Mrs. or by her first name? Is it one those upper-class toffs’ habits? I thought they all used first names for their servants.’

  ‘Apparently Mrs. Pratt’s first name is Elsie, which is the same as Estelle’s mother’s name so they just call her Pratt. Not sure if they asked Pratt what she wanted to be called or if they even cared. She is a local, and hasn’t been with them for more than a few months. She calls Estelle ma’am.’

  ‘Really? Anything else? Where was she when Eric Warner was found?’

  ‘She claims to have been in London, visiting her daughter, all that week. Eric had given her a week off, insisted that he could make do without her. Mrs. Warner didn’t like that at all, according to Pratt. Not sure why not. Pratt gave me her ticket stubs.’

  ‘Check it out just in case. Did you get anything else out of her, any gossip or anything about the Warners?’

  ‘Nope, she was in a hurry to get out of there. Estelle was hovering about.’

  ‘Ok, we’ll just have to bring her in here on Tuesday to talk to her, as we may want to know a bit more before the inquest on Wednesday. However, you’ll have to do it on your own; I have to go to London on Tuesday to see the solicitor. I didn’t get anything out of him on the phone. Didn’t even tell me if Warner had made a will! He did give me the name for Warner’s GP in London though. I’m hoping I can get to see the doctor too as he was out this week. Did you get the phone numbers for both Warners?’

  ‘Yes, got those from Mrs. Pratt. I’ll run a request for them right now. How far back do we need them?’

  ‘Let’s do the normal three months for both; we can request more later if need be. No need to get the Chief involved as of yet. We don’t even know if it’s a murder yet. It could be just a heart attack after all.’

  ‘You don’t really believe that, sir, do you? A guy in good health drops dead in the woods and has no identification or mobile phone on him?’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe. Slater seems to think he had had a heart attack, no proof of anything else. Maybe our unknown witness, whom we still can’t seem to find, took his ID and phone?’

  ‘Guess so, but it is a bit unlikely, isn’t it?’

  ‘You mean little old ladies can’t murder or rob people? It could be two separate incidents: him dropping dead, and her relieving him of a nice mobile and a few credit cards.’

  ‘True, but why not take the cash? Why leave the thirty quid?’

  ‘Could be that it was someone else – credit card fraud is far more lucrative. Come to think of it, we must ask Mrs. Warner if she has cancelled his cards or if she has found her husband’s cards in the house. It could be of course that Warner didn’t have a credit card, but I’d find that very hard to believe. I mean, a man in his position and no plastic? You can’t even fill a tank or get cash without plastic these days. But if he actually didn’t have any, that would open up another can of worms altogether and we’d have to figure out if he was in financial trouble or something.’

  ‘Since you now have her mobile number, call Mrs. Warner and ask about the credit cards. And if she hasn’t seen them or knows nothing about them, ask her the name of her bank, and we’ll contact them for her.’

  ‘Are we supposed to do that, sir?’

  ‘Not really, but it will be a good way to find out more about their monetary situation since we haven’t gotten the access to bank records yet, have we?’

  ‘No sir, I have requested it but it takes a bit of time’.

  ‘Ah, the way they do it in America! They just access it all online, so much easier.’ Greene sighs. ‘Ok, enough of our mystery man. Let’s get the reports done on both the injury assault and that murder-suicide.’

  ***

  ‘Let’s get home, it’s Friday and we can’t get anything else done.’ Greene stretches his arms.

  ‘Thank you, sir. The weather is supposed to be nice and sunny all through Tuesday,’ Terry says.

  ‘Any plans for the long weekend, Terry?’

  ‘No nothing really, just driving to Penzance.’

  ‘What, another girl there? Or is this a same one?’ Greene laughs.

  Terry blushes a bit. ‘The same girl, sir.’

  ‘Oh, you must be getting serious about her. Have a good weekend, Terry.’

  ‘You too, sir. Is Andrew coming home?’

  ‘Yes he is, and he’s bringing a new girlfriend too. Which reminds me, need to get some more bangers and some chicken legs. I do hope she’s not a veggie like the previous one! Never could understand how you can be a veggie and yet wear leather shoes. Not to mention why do you need to fix your veggies to look like a burger? Why can’t you just eat the veggies as is?’

  As they are leaving their office, Chief Inspector Mullan sees Greene and asks him to come into his office.

  ‘Sit down, sit. So, is it a murder or not?’ Mullan asks Greene.

  ‘Still not clear on that, sir. Slater hasn’t received the toxicology results yet. He says it could be something he ate or his medication or maybe he just did drop dead. It’s been known to happen. The only odd thing is, as you know, the lack of identification, credit cards, and mobile phone.’

  ‘Do we know for sure he had a mobile phone?’

  ‘Yes, we do now know for sure and we have requested the phone records for his mobile as well as Mrs. Warner’s mobile phone.’

  ‘Why do you need hers too? Wasn’t she in the Scillies?’

  ‘Yes she was – well, at least we know she went and came back when she said, but she could easily have taken a flight back and forth from Land’s End under a different name. They don’t always check names on those planes properly. I think there’s something going on. They’d only been married for four years, but it is a bit odd – why did she go there in the first place? And why didn’t she talk to him for a week? I just want to see if we can find something in the phone records. Ford has also requested their bank records.’

  ‘Very well, let me know if you need more authorizations on either.

  ‘Thank you, sir.

  ‘Any headway on who inherits yet?

  ‘No, I have to go to London on Tuesday to see the solicitor, and hopefully I will get to see his London GP at the same time. He didn’t have a GP here as, according to his wife, he didn’t need a doctor, he was a very healthy man.’

  ‘Is travelling to London really necessary? Can’t these discussions be conducted on the phone?’

  ‘It’s more efficient to see the person, and the solicitor refused to discuss the matter on the phone, you know how they are. The solicitor was also in a hurry as it is bank holiday weekend. Probably wanted to drive to his country estate or something.’

  ‘Alright then. I assume you are coming back in the evening? When is the inquest again?’

  ‘Yes, coming back same day. The inquest is on Wednesday, sir.’

  ‘Good, have a good weekend then. Keep me posted on what you find out in London.’

  ‘Certainly, sir. Good weekend to you too.’

  Greene leaves Mullan’s office and walks out to his car. It’s still quite nice outside, despite it being nearly six in the evening. He thinks of stopping at a pub on his way home. His car is his pride and joy, a six-year-old blue BMW, still in great shape and as good as new. He had bought it cheap 3 years ago at an auction. He likes to keep it shining – no eating in this car! Terry Ford has already left in his battered old Ford Fiesta. How he can get his long legs in that car is a mystery. Greene, being on the short
side himself, enjoys seeing Terry folding himself into the Fiesta. Terry usually drives when they both have to go somewhere. Greene doesn’t want Terry to drive his BMW as it is a rear wheel drive, and he’s not sure Terry can handle that. He should – he is a copper after all – but not all coppers are good drivers. Besides, Terry can use the extra money for miles too.

  Greene has just a short drive to his end-terrace house in one of the early-fifties houses built when coal mining was a big industry. He stops by Asda on his way and gets some bangers, chicken legs and hamburgers as well as a few beers while he’s at it. He thinks he’d better get some bread for the hamburgers – he’s not sure if there is any at home. Better to pick up some veggies too. He notices some fresh corncobs and picks up a few of those – they’d fit nicely with the American-style barbecue he is planning for the weekend. A big tub of ice cream and a bottle of chardonnay for the girlfriend and he’s done with his shopping.

  Peter is very happy that Andrew is coming home for the long weekend from the University of East Anglia, where he is studying climate change and environment. The house feels big and empty without him around. Shortly after he had started his studies, Andrew had explained that it should not be called global warming. It is climate change, meaning the world turns hot or cold. These changes happen in a snap, and bad storms come up all of a sudden. ‘”Hot or cold, changes in a snap, bad tempered…” I’ve met women like that,’ Peter had chuckled, to Andrew’s chagrin. Greene is very proud of his son, and while he agrees that climate change is real, he just hopes the degree is something his son can get a job with after university. On the other hand, if the world really is going through a “change,” there may be plenty of job opportunities.

  Andrew shows up with his latest girlfriend, Gina, in tow, and takes residence in his old room. She seems to be an improvement compared to the previous one, Greene thinks, doesn’t seem to giggle all the time either. Gina is good looking, with dark brown hair, chiseled features, and oddly luminous blue-grey eyes that seem to bore into you. She isn’t very talkative, but when she does speak, her comments show that she thinks about what she says and doesn’t just blurt out things to say something. As far as Greene is concerned, she is definitely a keeper –a good-looking girl with brains.

  Andrew and Peter set about to do some American-style barbeque. Peter has recently bought one of those gigantic kettle grills, with a lid the size of a small swimming pool. He cracks open a couple of beers and sets out to figure out how this whole American grill thing works. And, it turns out that Gina knows how it is supposed to be done. She had apparently first been in Texas as an exchange student and then later spent a year studying octopi in Puget Sound at the University of Washington out on the west coast of the USA.

  According to Gina, one should load up the coal half way in the bin, let it burn out until it was grey on the surface, shovel the coals to one side and then put the chicken on the other side, not on top of the coals. Cover with the lid for half an hour or so, then check, flip, and baste with good barbeque sauce and bake under the lid for another fifteen-to-twenty minutes, and hey presto, you’ll have excellent chicken. Burgers and bangers would only take last ten minutes or so.

  While Peter and Andrew keep drinking beer and talking, Gina focuses on the food and whips up a salad to go with the meat. It turns out that Gina definitely knows about barbeque, the chicken is excellent, very juicy and not burned and dry as it usually gets when Peter tries grilling it. She drinks beer too. After finishing the meal, Andrew and Gina go out for a walk, and Peter takes care of the dishes.

  Terry Ford is driving fast with the radio on full blast, blaring out latest pop tunes. He is keen to head out to Penzance to see his girlfriend there. If the weather is nice, they could go for a long walk along the beach and then for a nice dinner at Turk’s Head.

  He had previously made reservations at his favorite B&B, which is just a walking distance away from the beach and the city center. His girlfriend, Christine, lives near Marazion with her somewhat overprotective parents. She is a librarian, a tall and rather shy girl in her late twenties, with mousey brown hair, which could use some attention by a hairdresser. She has kind eyes, which display tiny crow’s feet in the corners. When she smiles her nose crinkles and eyes sparkle.

  Once Terry has settled into his room, he calls Christine and asks if she’d like to go out for a walk. The rain has stopped but it is still fairly windy, a perfect time to go for a walk along the beach as far as Terry is concerned. Christine agrees.

  They walk for more than an hour on the beach, holding hands, talking and then wander to the Turk’s Head for dinner. Terry had made a reservation for eight o’clock to avoid all the families with children running about. They get to their table, they order food and a bottle of wine. Later on if you were to ask either one of them what they ate, they wouldn’t know. They talked and talked about music and movies and books until late into the night when Terry finally walks her back to her parents’ house. It is nearly two in the morning when his head finally hits the pillow in the B&B, and he falls asleep with a smile on his lips; she likes Warehouse 13 too.

  Jimmy Carter, The Abbey Chronicle

  On Friday afternoon Jimmy drives to Exeter to see if he can find the flat which, according to online info, belonged to Eric Warner. He is hoping to talk with his neighbors and find out more about him and what was going on in that flat.

  St. Leonard’s seems like a nice area, and quite pricy at that. Jimmy makes a note to look into how much Eric had paid for the flat. He finds the building on Victoria Park Road and parks his car. Very nice indeed, well-maintained. He walks to the door, and finds that it is locked. There’s a buzzer for each flat, but, oddly, no names are noted for any of them, only the numbers. Maybe the place has mostly students who share flats? Jimmy had not been able to find out which floor Eric’s apartment is on, so he decides to pick one number in the middle and hope for the best. He presses the buzzer, to no response. Just when he’s about to try a third time, he gets lucky. A young woman comes out wearing tight blue jeans and a short leather jacket.

  ‘Hello, I was looking for Eric Warner’s place, do you know him?’

  ‘I know of him, don’t really know him. His flat is on the third floor.’ She turns to walk away. Jimmy catches up to her.

  ‘Then you know he died recently?’

  She stops and looks at him.

  ‘No, I didn’t know that. When did he die?’

  ‘Two weeks ago.’

  ‘Well then, that explains why I haven’t seen him for a while. What happened to him? A car accident? He was fast-driving type.’

  ‘The police are still investigating his death. So how often was he here? I understand this was his office?’

  ‘I guess it could have been an office – what kind, I have no idea. Why are the police involved? Somebody kill him?’

  ‘They don’t know that yet. You think someone could have a reason to kill him?’

  ‘Why are you asking all these questions? Who are you?’

  ‘My name is James Carter; I work for The Abbey Chronicle, in Faukon Abbey. As Mr. Warner was new to our parts, we’re trying to get some info about him. What can you tell me about him?’ Jimmy digs up his card from his pocket and gives it to her. She takes it, looks at it and puts it in her pocket.

  ‘I see. As I said, I didn’t know him personally, I knew of him.’

  ‘Are you neighbors?’

  ‘No! I’d love to be, but no way I could afford to live here. No, I’m a personal trainer for a couple of the people living here. I come here three times a week.’

  ‘So what can you tell me about him?’

  ‘This is, you understand, all hearsay; I only met the guy once, maybe twice in the elevator, that’s all.’

  ‘Of course, we’re only looking for background. What kind of person was Mr. Warner?’

  ‘He was a bit of a creep!’ she said.

  ‘Really, how do you mean?’

  ‘One of my ladies was really upset one da
y when I got here. She had her granddaughter with her, a really pretty six-year-old, with blonde curly hair. She and the granddaughter had been out for a walk for an hour and when they came back, Warner had just parked his car, walked with them inside, and got in the elevator with them. When she got to her floor, she couldn’t get out of the elevator fast enough. He had to get out too as she uses a walker and the elevator is quite small. She wanted to get the kid out of there as soon as possible. She claimed that the way he had talked with the six-year-old and the way he’d looked at the kid gave her the creeps. It wasn’t what he had said, but the way he had said it. In that tight space, he had crouched down to look at the kid closely, and unbuttoned her coat, admired her dress.’

  ‘Oh wow. Really? Wow. That does sound strange. How long ago was this?’

  ‘Only a few months ago, January something. My client said she felt strongly about making sure she never left her granddaughter alone with him.’

  ‘He does have two daughters of his own, and one of them died young. The other one is eighteen now, so you don’t think he could have just talked to her like he used to talk to his own daughters when they were small?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t even know he was married. Could be, but my client felt it was creepy all the same. According to my other client here, who lives on the same floor, he sees a frequent flow of different women who come and go, mostly during the day.’

  ‘You think your clients would want to talk with me? It would be great if I could talk with them directly.’

  ‘I don’t know but I can ask. Now, however, I must rush.’

  ‘Thank you for talking with me, you have my card. Please let me know if you want to talk more or if your clients would like to talk with me. Is there somewhere I can drive you?’

  ‘Thanks, no, I’ve got my car parked on the street there. When I see my clients again next week I’ll let them know about Warner’s death. Maybe they want to talk with you; I can’t promise anything but I’ll ask. Bye, I’ve got to run now.’