‘Behind the door? Then he grabs Dunbar from behind. Cuts his throat. Then turns as he struggles and dies.’
Biddulph smiled. ‘You really like the disturbed burglar theory, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one. That’s what you always tell me.’
‘Yes. And usually I’m right. But Dunbar worked from home. Any burglar worth his salt would have known that and moved on to easier pickings.’ He held up a hand. ‘And before you say that the burglar could have waited until Dunbar left the house, he was wearing slippers and no coat and no sign he’d brought anything in from the shops.’
‘The burglar could have been drugged up? Not thinking clearly.’
‘Clear enough to kill with one cut? The average druggie tends to lash out a bit more. And other than the broken window, it’s all a bit clean and clinical, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Marriott. ‘Where does that leave us?’
‘With a dead body and a broken window,’ said Biddulph. ‘You might be right. It might be an opportunistic druggie who lost the plot, but let’s have a good look around, shall we?’
CHAPTER 53
Carolyn looked at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to five and there were still two scenes to be shot. It was Friday and the following week was already choc-a-bloc so she knew she wouldn’t be leaving until they had finished. Tracey was working on her hair, putting it up because the next scene was a cocktail party and the director wanted her looking glamorous. Glamorous was all well and good but it meant an hour in make-up and doing the scene in high heels which would play havoc with her ankles all weekend.
A runner popped her head around the door. It was a girl with cropped hair and a nose ring, a new face to Carolyn. ‘Miss Castle? Mr Day wants to see you in his office.’
‘Now?’ said Tracey, two hairpins between her lips. ‘I’m halfway through this.’
‘He said it was important,’ said the runner.
Tracey grunted in annoyance and stepped back from the chair. She took the two pins from her mouth and tossed them into a plastic container in front of the mirror. ‘They think we can just throw your hair together, clearly,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry, Tracey. I’ll be right back.’ Carolyn took the blue sheet from around her neck as she stood up, and draped it over the chair. She grimaced at the reflection in the mirror. ‘I look like I’ve just walked through a wind tunnel’.
Tracey handed her a scarf. ‘Wear that,’ she said. ‘I don’t want anyone thinking I did that to your hair.’
Carolyn laughed and put the scarf on the chair. ‘I’ll explain to everyone,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, your reputation is secure.’
Carolyn headed down the corridor to Day’s office, wondering what it was he wanted. It could only be bad news, she was certain of that, and the only bad news she could think of involved her future on the show. Sinead had been optimistic but things could change quickly in TV-Land.
Laura looked up from her computer and frowned when she saw the state of Carolyn’s hair. ‘It’s a work in progress,’ said Carolyn. ‘Paul wants to see me. Is it bad news?’
‘There are two detectives in with him but I don’t know what it’s about,’ she said. She stood up, knocked on Day’s door, and opened it.
Day was sitting on one of his sofas and there was a middle-aged man and a blonde woman on the sofa facing him. Day stood up and hugged her. ‘A couple of policemen want to talk to you, darling,’ he said. ‘Takes me back to my days on The Bill.’ He waved a hand at the two visitors. ‘Inspector Marriott and Sergeant Biddulph.’
‘It’s the other way around, actually,’ said the man standing up. He flashed a warrant card. ‘Inspector Biddulph. My colleague is Sergeant Marriott.’
Carolyn’s heart raced and she felt light-headed. ‘Has something happened to Robbie?’
‘Robbie?’ repeated the detective, frowning.
‘My son. Robbie. Is he okay?’
‘We’re not here about your son, Mrs Castle,’ said Marriott.
Carolyn put her hand over her heart. ‘Thank God for that. You scared the life out of me.’
Biddulph waved at the sofa next to Day. ‘Please just have a seat while we ask you a few questions.’
Carolyn was still finding it difficult to breathe. ‘I thought something had happened to Robbie,’ she said to Day as she sat down. He patted her on the knee and smiled sympathetically.
Biddulph put his warrant card away and sat down next to his sergeant. ‘I’m sorry to have caused you concern there, Mrs Castle,’ he said. ‘We’re actually here in connection with a Mr Maxwell Dunbar. We called your home but kept getting your machine and then realised we’d have a better chance of catching you at the studio.’
‘Max?’
‘You do know Mr Dunbar?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, he does some work for me from time to time.’
‘Is he the guy who dealt with that stalker of yours?’ asked Day.
Carolyn nodded.
‘A stalker?’ asked Biddulph.
‘It was some time ago,’ said Carolyn. ‘I had a fan who was getting a bit too up close and personal and Max sorted it out for me. He’s a private detective.’
‘Well I’m afraid to tell you that Mr Dunbar is dead.’
Carolyn nodded slowly, not sure how to react. She barely knew the man and was more concerned about why the two detectives had come to see her. ‘What happened?’
‘He was murdered, I’m afraid. At his home, yesterday.’
‘Murdered?’ Carolyn put her hand over her mouth. ‘Max? No.’
‘There was a robbery at his house. At least, some things were stolen. But we’re just contacting the people he saw over the last couple of weeks, just to get a feel for how he was.’
‘I’m confused,’ said Carolyn. ‘He was robbed, you say?’
‘He was robbed, there’s no question of that,’ said Biddulph. ‘His phone, wallet and watch were taken, along with a BluRay player. His area is a burglary blackspot, lots of drug addicts with habits to pay for. But the level of violence was more than you’d expect from a robbery gone wrong. If a householder disturbs a burglar, more often than not the burglar will just run for it. If they lash out, it’s usually because they were cornered. It’s very, very rare for a burglar to kill during the commission of the burglary.’
‘So what do you think happened?’ asked Carolyn.
‘We’re not sure,’ said Biddulph. ‘Which is why we’re speaking to everyone he was in contact with over the last week or so. We found a copy of a cheque for five hundred pounds in his desk, a cheque dated last Saturday.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Can you tell me what that was for?’
‘For?’
‘It’s a lot of money, can you tell me why you gave it to him?’
Carolyn shrugged. ‘He was doing some work for me.’
‘What, specifically?’ asked Biddulph.
‘Does that matter?’
‘It would, if he was blackmailing you,’ said the sergeant.
‘What?’ said Carolyn.
‘Sergeant Marriott is speaking hypothetically,’ said Biddulph, flashing his sergeant a withering look.
‘You think I killed him because he was blackmailing me?’
Biddulph put up a hand. ‘We’re following several lines of inquiry,’ he said. ‘But, at the moment, we are looking for a motive.’
‘Well, Max wasn’t blackmailing me. The idea’s ridiculous. I have another fan who has been following me a little too zealously. Max helps me sort things out like that. He was going to track them down and then get them to stop.’
‘And how does he do that, exactly?’ asked Marriott, scribbling furiously in her notebook.