‘From Alastair Morton.’ He looked around him at the empty flat. ‘In case you’re wondering, it’s no coincidence that I’m packing up and I’m on my way. It’s thanks to you.’
‘How come?’
‘You talked to Khan.’ That made no sense to me so he continued. ‘You’ve been asking questions about me. You’ve found your way to my home. Did you know that Fenchurch International owns half the flats in this building? It’s meant to be a safe space – but not any more. Morton wants me out of the way. And so I’ve got to go.’
He had spoken without malice but I still felt terrible. ‘Does he really have such a hold over you?’ I asked.
‘He employs me. Hawthorne got me the job, but Morton signs the cheques.’
‘I’m very sorry . . .’ I didn’t know what to say.
‘Don’t be. I don’t mind a bit of sunshine and I’ve always fancied trying my hand at fraud – white-collar crime. It’ll be an experience.’
There was a brief silence.
‘You must see quite a lot of Hawthorne,’ I said. ‘Living in the same building.’
‘I used to – but you could say we had a difference of opinion. Sometimes we see each other coming in, going out. But we tend to keep our distance.’
‘Where did the two of you meet?’
I hadn’t expected him to answer and I was surprised when he did.
‘In Reeth.’
‘You grew up there?’
‘We were at school together.’ Dudley smiled. ‘We knew each other when we were eight years old. We were best friends in the way that only eight-year-olds can be. He was like a brother to me.’
‘I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what happened in Reeth?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not my story to tell.’ He deliberately changed the subject. ‘You know, he speaks very highly of you.’
‘Does he?’
‘That’s why I let you in. I’ve wanted to meet you for quite a while now, although if you’ll do me a favour, I wouldn’t mention any of this to Hawthorne.’
‘Or Morton.’
‘He already knows. He knows everyone who comes in and out of this building.’
‘I hope I’m not going to get you into more trouble.’
I meant it. It was strange, but I felt completely relaxed with John Dudley, as if I’d known him a long time. There was some sort of affinity between us. Despite what he’d said about our different roles, we had both come into Hawthorne’s orbit and that connected us.
He shook his head. ‘It’s too late now. Anyway, I’ll be gone by tomorrow evening, so we can just pretend it never happened.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ I said.
‘He’s not an easy man. I know that. But it’s good that you’re helping him. I think you’re what he needs.’
We lifted our coffee cups at the same moment. Again, I got that weird sense of reflection.
‘There’s one thing I really want to know,’ I said. ‘It’s the one thing that’s been really bothering me and I hope you can tell me. Why did the two of you part company?’ He didn’t answer, so I leapt in. ‘Was it because you discovered that he’d pushed Adam Strauss off a hotel balcony?’
He smiled at me. ‘That’s very direct.’
‘Well, as you say, you’re about to leave for the other side of the world. You might as well tell me the truth.’
‘It was something like that,’ he admitted.
He didn’t need to say any more. Khan had known Hawthorne was responsible, although he hadn’t been able to prove it. Morton was afraid of the truth coming out. Dudley must have worked it out for himself and that was why the two of them had gone their separate ways.
‘I was sorry the investigation didn’t have a better outcome,’ I said.
He shrugged. ‘It ended the way it ended. I’m not sure it’s going to be very helpful for your book.’
‘Who do you think killed Roderick Browne?’
He gazed at me and I saw the puzzlement in his eyes. ‘I know who killed him. It was Adam Strauss.’
‘But you never found out why?’
‘I know exactly why. Hawthorne got it all right. Everything he said was correct!’
I was puzzled. ‘That last meeting at The Stables . . .’
‘That’s what I’m talking about. The last meeting: Hawthorne and me, the Strausses. Have you heard the recording?’
‘I’ve heard all your recordings. I’m grateful to you for making them. I couldn’t have written the book without them.’
‘Everything that Hawthorne said that day was bang on the money. I knew it before we went in. Adam Strauss murdered his first wife when he was living at Riverview Lodge and buried her in his back garden. If Detective Superintendent Khan was too stupid to see it or too up his own arse to accept it, that was his problem. I will admit, though, that Strauss completely tricked him. But that was what was so brilliant about him. He was a chess grandmaster and he was always ten moves ahead.’
I’d heard that quite a few times.
‘He’d boasted about it when we first met him,’ Dudley went on. ‘But the act he put on in that room . . . that was something else.’
‘What do you mean?’
Just for a moment, Dudley looked irritated. ‘He’d planned it all a long time ago, exactly the same way he’d planned the murder and the so-called suicide. He’d left nothing to chance. What was he going to do if a police officer walked into his house and tried to arrest him? He’d thought of that before he even killed his wife and he always made sure he had postcards, stashed away, ready to be brought out if anyone started asking awkward questions. Plus, every year a New Year’s card sent from Hong Kong: 2013, the Year of the Snake; 2014, the Year of the Horse. Photos of Wendy that he could show off on his phone. Don’t make any mistake. She was rotting away underneath that magnolia tree, but he’d built up a whole legend to keep her alive.
‘I have no doubt that it was Teri and not Wendy who took that flight to New York after the divorce. Planning ahead! They must have looked quite similar, even without the racial stereotypes. They were family! And anyway, a single woman travelling business class to New York would barely have got a second glance from a border control guard at either end of the journey. Strauss could probably have done it in drag!’
‘He told you there was a Wendy Yeung working at the Maritime Museum in Hong Kong.’
‘If DS Khan had bothered to check, which he didn’t, he would have found that there is – but not the same Wendy Yeung. It’s a common name. It would have been easy enough for Strauss to find someone who shared it.’ He paused. ‘It’s like when a magician tells you to pick a card and then says you can change your mind. You very seldom do. Just the fact that he gives you the opportunity is enough. It makes you believe he’s playing fair and square.’
‘You called her from the room.’
He sighed.
‘No. Adam Strauss dialled the number and passed the phone across. He made a point of announcing that he wasn’t going to say a word. Again, the magician! Khan was the one who did the talking and what was the first thing he said? “My name is Detective Superintendent Khan.” That was the stupidest thing he could have done. That was the trigger! Whoever it was in Hong Kong, it wasn’t Wendy. It was a friend, a relation, an actress, someone who had been paid to play a part years ago. And he’d tipped them off. There was no hesitation, no need for any explanation. When the woman heard who she was speaking to, she simply did what she and Strauss had rehearsed.’
‘He said he was paying her money. Was that a lie too?’
‘It’s probably true. One thousand pounds a month into an account in Hong Kong would be easy enough to arrange. He pays it in. It gets passed across to a second account and then it gets paid back again.’ He drank his coffee. ‘You’ve got to understand, Anthony. Nobody has ever planned a murder so far in advance. That was what made Strauss so unique. And why he was so dangerous. In a way, he was the most obvious suspect from the start. Only a chess grandmaster could have dreamt up anything as elaborate.’