.
The woman was found murdered on
Boscastle harbour, a violin string around her throat, but that was this morning
lets go back to last night.
Jack was bored, he’d been bored for
months now he was so close to retirement, he wasn’t getting big cases any more, and he lived for big
cases. No, instead of big cases he had to listen to hysterical women all day
moaning that they were in danger from ex boyfriends or ex husbands or even
currant husbands. Most of them would be back with their erstwhile attackers as
soon as his back was turned, but out of a sense of duty he logged each call,
put them at ease calmed them down and made the occasional home visit.
He had thought this was just such a case, an attractive middle aged lady
the wife of a violinist in the county orchestra, who looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly
’You don’t know him he can turn really nasty’
‘I’m sure he won’t come back
tonight’, he said
reassuringly, he knew his appearance worked for him here, he looked like a big
friendly teddy bear, or a favourite uncle, the kind who was always welcome at
Christmas
A few minutes later he was propping up the bar of a pub just around the
corner from her flat, by the second whisky he had forgot all about
her.
The next morning he was at his desk shuffling papers, when he noticed
the phone call received by Detective inspector
Lewis, it looked serious so he watched as Lewis put on his jacket and
left the with two detective sergeants in tow. God, what he would give to be in
their shoes, but he knew it wasn’t to be his big cases were behind him now. The call
came an hour later.
‘Hello Jack this
is Lewis here. Do you know a Mrs Barnaby?’
‘Yes, I spoke to her yesterday why do you ask’
‘You’d better get
yourself down to Boscastle harbour mate’.
Soon he was in his car speeding through country lanes, feeling that
subtle form of elation he knew so well. At the same time wondering what the
hell was going on.
He soon arrived at the beautiful little tourist hamlet and pulled off
the road where he could see the police tape. He nodded to the uniform copper on
duty keeping back the small band of the public that were congregating on the
picturesque bridge over the river, he bobbed under the tape and made his way to
the group of officers standing around a small heap of clothing that he knew was
the remains of a human being
‘Allright Jack?’ said inspector Lewis, Jack nodded
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Found your
business card on this lady’s body, can you confirm her identity?’
‘Yes its Mrs
Barnaby. How did she die?’
‘Violin wire
around the neck’,
‘It was her
husband’.
‘What makes you
so sure?’
‘He’s lead violinist
in the Cornwall county orchestra, and I want in on the arrest. She was my
responsibility I dropped the ball here, I want the case’.
‘Oh OK Jack you
get to run with it, but you answer to me’
‘OK boss I can do that’. Just a little arse kissing was in order here. Mind
you, it came hard-Lewis had been his detective sergeant for the last fifteen
years. Together they had solved dozens of cases, it was this partnership that
had been the reason he was so highly thought of.
They traced Mr Barnaby to the north Cornish town of Bude. He was staying
in the Royal Hotel a first rate hotel overlooking the sea. He was eating a late
breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Jack went straight over to him
‘Mr Joshua
Barnaby?’
‘Yes that’s me’ he looked very
nervous. Well he should do, he’d just killed
his wife.
‘I am arresting
you for the murder of your wife.’
‘This has to be
some sort of joke I’ve been here all
week, I’ve not seen my
wife for two.’
On the return journey Jack tried to get on friendly terms with the
suspect trying to get a confession from the man.
‘I can understand
why you did it Joshua, I can call you Joshua?’
‘Yes please do’
‘Yes I understand
why you did it she was a total bitch, wasn’t she?’
‘Well yes but I didn’t kill her.’
‘Oh come on she
had been a nightmare for years now.’
‘That’s true but I
didn’t kill her.’
‘Oh come on you
took a strand of violin wire, put it around her neck and pulled on it until she stopped moving.’
‘Is that how she
died? that’s horrible poor
Karen.’
‘But you know how
she died don’t you-because
you killed her?’
‘No I didn’t and I don’t want to talk
anymore, not until I see my solicitor.’
‘Jack gave up for
now. This was his speciality, getting suspects to confess. he’d been doing it
for half his life now and he knew he was good at it. He’d get his man-it
just took patience and determination.
When he arrived back at the station he oversaw the booking in of the
suspect and saw him safely tucked away in a cell then he went to work, where
was the suspect the previous evening? What time had the victim been killed
exactly? How had he moved the body? All important questions that needed to be
answered. He put sergeants on to all of them, telling them he expected them to
get back to him within hours.
He didn’t get answers
until early evening and he didn’t like them when
he got them. He was just leaving the interview room after four hours questioning
their main suspect, their only suspect, he had clamed up and refused to answer
any questions. They needed to let him rest now, but Jack saw no problems yet-a
night in prison would loosen his tongue. But his sergeants had bad news for him
the woman had been killed after eight o’clock he knew that he had left her about then, but
before midnight, she had been driven to the spot in her own car, the car was
then returned to its parking spot outside her flat. But the main piece of
information was that Joshua Barnaby had been in the bar of the cliff hotel at the time in question and he had thirty
people to corroborate that fact, this knocked him back on his heels. He had
been certain of the man’s guilt-he had a motive, the murder weapon so unique (a
violin wire).
He had to suspect someone was trying to frame Barnaby-what other motive
could there be? Who else had a motive? He would have to go back to basics.
First of all he needed to interview him again find out if he had any enemies He
wasn’t looking
forward to that interview, not at all.
On his way to the cells he was way laid by Chief Superintendent Regan
‘Can I have a word please Jack?’
‘Of course sir.’
‘Can you give any
good reason why there should be one of your fingerprints on the interior of the
dead woman’s car?’
‘Sir?’
‘I’m sorry but I am
going to have to place you under arrest sergeant take him to booking.’ A Sergeant
appeared by his side.
‘This way Jack.’He took him by the arm steering him gently towards
booking. There was a hush as he was led towards the front desk, and he
considered fleeing but thought better of it. He was old and out of shape and he knew he wouldn’t get to the
front doors. He went through booking in a daze just answering in the
affirmative when they asked his name and address.
In an hour he was in the interview room opposite Detective inspector
Lewis
‘What made you do it Jack?’ He recognised
the tone gentle inquisitiveness-he’d used it hundreds of times himself.
He felt nothing just
regret at being caught, he thought he could beat the system, and get back into
major cases.
‘Where did you find the fingerprint?’
‘On the rear view
mirror.’Of course she
had been such a small woman it had surprised him how easy it had been to get
her into the car. She had let him back into the flat without asking him why he’d returned, he’d
seen the wire earlier in the evening he unwrapped it while she was making
coffee then took her by surprise when she straightened up from putting down the
drinks . He took the weight of her body on his as he pulled back on the string.
She had only made a gurgling sound in the minute or so it had taken to kill as
her he had cut off the carotid artery taking blood to the brain. She did have
time to realise what was happening, and for that he felt guilt, but not
much.
