‘And you believe he took all that?’ She was astounded.
‘Not all at once,’ Ramsay said. ‘I think he withdrew it in cash. Over a period.’
‘And I signed the bloody cheques,’ she said. ‘What a bastard!’
There was a silence. In her room Anna was playing lyrical and sentimental music. Prue took a knife and a board from a drawer and began violently to chop an onion.
‘It isn’t the theft itself which is of most concern at the moment,’ Ramsay said. ‘It provides a motive, you see, for Mrs Wood’s murder.’
‘You think she found out about it?’ Prue stood, poised for a moment with the knife in her hand. ‘ Do you think that’s why he decided to look for another job?’
‘I think it’s almost certain that she suspected he’d been stealing,’ Ramsay said, almost to himself. ‘She’d have heard from her husband that he wanted to buy the flat in Chandler’s Court. She might even have been on the bench when Lynch was charged with non-payment of the community charge. So she went through the bank statement herself to check. But it all happened years ago. If she’d wanted to get rid of him she’d have done it before now.’
‘But she wouldn’t have wanted to get rid of him!’ Prue was suddenly excited, caught up in the investigation despite herself. ‘Don’t you see, he was the best thing that had ever happened to the Grace Darling. He was a famous actor. Even better, a local famous actor. It meant that we got all the publicity we could handle. It meant that the Grace Darling was successful when other similar projects were closing down. It would be worth ten grand to her to keep him.’
‘So you’re saying that she used the information that he’d been stealing to put pressure on him to stay? A sort of blackmail?’
She nodded.
‘It’s certainly very significant that he only decided to announce his resignation on the day after she died,’ Ramsay said.
‘Does that mean,’ Prue said incredulously, ‘ that you think he killed her?’
‘There’s no evidence,’ he said slowly. ‘ We need more than motive.’ He knew this was all a mistake. He had no right to discuss the case with Prue. He had never been so unprofessional, but he was certain he could trust her discretion. She had information he needed, and he continued: ‘Besides, there’s Gabriella Paston. Where could she fit into all this? Is there any way, do you think, that she could have discovered the fraud?’
‘I don’t know,’ Prue said. ‘I think Gus gave her a contribution towards her RADA audition expenses from the building society account but she’d surely have no way of knowing where it came from. Unless…’ she hesitated.
‘Yes?’
‘Unless Ellen told her. Ellen Paston. She’s a dreadful snoop. I’ve even caught her going through the mail on my desk. It would be hard to keep anything in that place secret from her.’
‘And we know that Gabby met Ellen regularly. It’s marked in her diary.’ It’s all coming together, he thought. At last. Gabby and Ellen met for a gossip. Of course Ellen would pass on her suspicions. There was no more juicy gossip than dishonesty of a famous man. And then Gabby must have acted on it. Surely the contribution towards audition expenses wasn’t all she received from Lynch. There was the five hundred pounds which started her savings account. It couldn’t be coincidence that both murder victims had blackmailed the director.
‘All the same,’ Prue said. ‘I can’t believe it of Gus Lynch. He wouldn’t have the guts.’
She stood up and rinsed mushrooms under the tap, then returned to the board to slice them.
‘You do understand,’ he said awkwardly, ‘that this is all confidential. I’m sorry. I’ve put you in an unfair position. You have to work with the man. But I must ask you to keep it secret.’
‘Oh,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ve always been good at secrets. Are you going home? To your cottage in Heppleburn? I should like to see it some time.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Back to the police station. There’s still work to do. It won’t be long, I hope, now.’ He touched her shoulder clumsily, but there was no invitation to his cottage and she thought she had made a fool of herself. He was only interested in her as a means of clearing up his case.
Back at Hallowgate police station Ramsay wondered why he had not asked Prue to come to Heppleburn. He would like to have shown her the cottage. He was busy but he could have made some vague, friendly gesture. He decided that a sort of superstition had prevented him. He did not have a good record in protecting the women he came close to in murder cases. He wanted to keep her safe and when the investigation was over he would make his move.
The telephone rang. It was Hunter reporting on the surveillance operation outside the Pastons’ house. He had called it off now, he said. The van would cause suspicion if it were parked there after dark. Especially if it was there in the morning with all the wheels still on.
‘How did it go?’ Ramsay asked. He thought his interest now was academic. Gus Lynch must be his most likely suspect.
‘It was like St James’s Park on Derby match day, kids in and out all afternoon. And one of the visitors might interest you.’
‘Who was it?’ He tried to sound excited to humour Hunter.
‘John Powell. Now what do you make of that?’
Chapter Fifteen
By the next morning the weather had changed. The wind had gone westerly and was mild and damp, carrying squalls of rain. In Hallowgate police station Ramsay and Hunter had a meeting with the superintendent. From his office at the front of the building they saw the bright splash of colour of the yellow oilskins worn by the men driving fork-lift trucks on the Fish Quay against the grey of the river. Ramsay stared out at the scene below him and found it hard to concentrate.
‘So,’ the superintendent said, ‘what are we going to do about Gus Lynch?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Ramsay knew he must appear indecisive and tried to gather his thoughts. ‘I’m tempted to bring him in for questioning on suspicion of fraud but technically that’s awkward because the Grace Darling trustees have never reported a crime. The matter’s complicated of course by his high profile.’
‘You’ve not got enough to charge him with murder?’
Ramsay shook his head. ‘ There’s nothing to put him in Martin’s Dene on the evening of Amelia Wood’s death. We had his car and so far no one’s come forward to say that they gave him a lift. Of course someone might be protecting him. But until we have something more substantial than motive to link him to the murders it would be too risky to bring him in.’
They all knew the problem: once the PACE clock started ticking there was only a limited time before a decision had to be made whether to charge or release a suspect. And if Lynch was released after questioning Ramsay would have shown his hand and given the actor the opportunity to cover his tracks. That’s why he hadn’t asked to see the slush account records.
‘Of course we do have substantial evidence to implicate Lynch in the Paston murder,’ the superintendent said. ‘ Her body was found in the boot of his car.’
‘Yes.’ But Ramsay’s voice was uncertain. Paradoxically it was only the body in the car which made him question their case against Lynch. An intelligent man would have found somewhere to dump it. But perhaps it was all an elaborate counterbluff. Or the result of the sort of panic which leads to inaction.
‘There’s nothing we can do without more evidence,’ he said, taking a decision at last. ‘We can’t even talk to him informally about the missing funds without giving too much away. We need proof that he was in Martin’s Dene on Monday lunch time and Tuesday evening. Either a witness or forensic evidence. He’s well known. You’d think he’d be recognized. We’ve taken the clothes he was wearing on Tuesday for testing but there’s no result yet.’
‘I presume you’ve checked his alibi that he was in the pub in Anchor Street on Monday lunch time?’ The superintendent spoke apologetically, implying he was sure they had checked, but they must realize that he had to ask.