Separated at Death (The Lakeland Murders) Page 18

  The solicitor started to get up, but Hall gestured for him to sit down.

  ‘We do have questions for your client.’

  ‘I’m most surprised. I thought that this statement covered your areas of concern.’

  ‘Not all of them’, said Hall. He looked squarely at Mrs Hamilton. ‘But while we’re on the subject of last Wednesday evening can I ask what you were doing that evening, earlier on I mean?’

  ‘I ate at about seven, and then read until my husband came home. I do tend to lose track of time.’

  ‘So you can’t pin the time down any more accurately?’

  ‘You have my client’s statement.’

  Mann was always impressed by Hall’s faultless manners. It must be down to him being a southerner.

  ‘I do, but you are now quite certain that your husband didn’t come back any later than nine thirty, Mrs Hamilton?’

  ‘Inspector, my client has already given you a written statement to that effect.’

  Hall smiled, nodded, and paused. It was a long pause.

  ‘Does your husband often come back later in the evening?’

  ‘Oh yes, very often. He works incredibly hard.’

  ‘And does he sometimes stop in Kendal for something to eat?’

  ‘Sometimes, yes. Sometimes he picks up something in Bowness too. A take away for us both perhaps.’

  ‘But not last Wednesday?’

  ‘No. As I said, I’d already eaten.’

  ‘So did your husband eat on the way home last Wednesday?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well did he make something when he got home? A little snack or something?’

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Can you think carefully for me, Mrs Hamilton. What happened for the rest of the evening, after your husband came home?’

  ‘Nothing. He called hello, got changed out of his work things, and came down to the living room. We watched the ten o’clock news together.’

  ‘So he might have made a snack?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him.’

  ‘And one last thing,Mrs Hamilton. What was your husband wearing when he returned from work?’

  ‘I didn’t see him, I told you.’

  ‘Well, what was he wearing when he left home in the morning?’

  ‘A shirt, blue I think, a sports jacket, jeans and black shoes.’

  ‘And did he have a coat?’

  ‘Yes, I expect he was wearing a waxed jacket. He’s worn one since he was a lad. This must be about his fifth one.’

  ‘So it’s dark green?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Thanks Mrs Hamilton, that’s all for now. Our enquiries are ongoing, and I’m sure that Mr Jenkins here has explained that we might need to talk you again, if there are other matters that we need to check. But before we get that statement typed up for you to sign, is there anything you’d like to say? Anything that you think might help us?’

  Sarah Hamilton shook her head slowly.

  ‘That’s fine. Well, you know where we are if you need us. Your solicitor will no doubt have explained what the implications are if anyone who gives us a statement in these circumstances turns out to have lied to us.’

  Sarah Hamilton shook her head, and Hall spoke before Jenkins could. It was almost rude, thought Mann.

  ‘Well they face the risk of being charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice, and in a case like this one I would expect a custodial sentence to be handed down upon conviction. Wouldn’t you agree?’ Hall smiled at the solicitor.

  ‘My client has been entirely truthful at all times, so that question is entirely hypothetical.’

  Hall suggested that they interview Mr Hamilton while his wife’s statement was being typed up. Simon Hamilton looked a good deal more relaxed than his wife. When the tape was running Jenkins repeated that the couple both agreed that Simon had arrived home between half-past eight and half past nine, and that he had with him a statement to that effect.

  Hall looked as if he’d heard it all before, which of course he had. Then he leaned forward.

  ‘Tell us what route you followed from the motorway to your house.’

  ‘As I said before, I drove through Kendal, then turned left up the hill, and then right to the west of the town. Then I took the Crook Road home.’

  ‘And did you stop anywhere during that part of the journey, from the time you entered Kendal until you reached home.’

  ‘No, actually I didn’t.’

  ‘When we spoke earlier you said that you’d stopped at a take-away.’

  ‘I know, but that was a different evening. I didn’t stop. I was going to, but I changed my mind.’

  ‘So you just drove straight through Kendal, and straight home from there without stopping?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What kind of driver are you, Mr Hamilton?’

  ‘I’m not sure I follow.’

  ‘Fast, slow, medium? How would you describe your driving?’

  ‘I keep to the speed limits.’

  ‘And how long would you say it takes you to drive from the centre of Kendal to your home, obeying the speed limits?’

  ‘Half an hour, perhaps a little less. It depends on the traffic.’

  ‘And what was the traffic like on that section of your journey last week?’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly.’

  ‘But not unusually busy?’

  ‘No, probably not.’

  ‘I ask, because we have you turning left at the town hall at three minutes to nine last Wednesday. A little while ago I asked a colleague to do the drive from there to your house, via Queen’s Road, in an unmarked car, keeping strictly to the speed limits. And do you know how long it took?’

  ‘This isn’t a guessing game Inspector’ said the solicitor.

  ‘Quite right. It took twenty three minutes. So that puts you back at home at twenty past nine, just inside your revised recollection of your arrival time.’

  ‘You see. That’s what I said all along.’

  ‘It’s not really been all along, has it Mr Hamilton? Until today you were claiming to have been home by half eight, the better part of an hour before you can possibly have actually reached home. And please don’t think we’re being petty Mr Hamilton, because you see that time difference really is important. Would you like to know why? Sorry, Mr Jenkins doesn’t like guessing games, and quite right he is too. So I’ll tell you why it’s important. You see if you were at home at eight thirty last Wednesday then you couldn’t possibly have murdered Amy, that’s for definite, but if you didn’t get home until an hour later; well then your alibi is gone I’m afraid.’

  ‘But I don’t need an alibi.’

  Hall let Hamilton’s words hang for a long moment.

  ‘And for the record you are absolutely certain that you didn’t see your niece anywhere in Kendal that evening?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘And you didn’t stop, or leave your car at any time between the time that you turned left at the town hall, and when you reached Plumgarths roundabout?’

  Hamilton didn’t hesitate.

  ‘No, I didn’t stop the car, except at junctions obviously.’

  ‘So you’re quite sure that you never parked or got out of your car in or around Kendal last Wednesday?’

  ‘Yes, I’m certain. I do sometimes, but I didn’t last Wednesday.’

  Hall asked what Hamilton had been wearing. His account tallied closely with his wife’s. ‘Have you been in or near Serpentine Woods in the recent past?’

  ‘No. But we often go for walks, all round the area. Some of those are in woods.’

  ‘When you return to your house after this interview would it be possible for us to remove any black pairs of shoes for examination?’

  Hamilton looked at his solicitor.

  ‘We can get a warrant if you prefer.’

  The solicitor nodded. Then Mann spoke for the first time.

  ‘Could we see t
he shoes you’re wearing now sir?’

  Hamilton stood up. They were black Oxfords, as shiny as Mann’s old Major’s dress boots.

  ‘Would you leave those with us? If you tell me the size I’ll arrange for a new pair for you to wear. Of course these will be returned to you.’

  Hamilton hesitated, and looked at his solicitor again. He nodded assent.

  ‘And one last thing’ said Hall. ‘I need you to reconfirm, for the record, what happened when you visited your brother to pay your respects last Thursday. Specifically, which rooms were you were in, and whether you were in any of them alone.’

  ‘Like I told you before, I was in the kitchen and the living room. There were people there the whole time. And I went to the loo as well.’

  ‘But that was downstairs?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you go upstairs at any point?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you quite sure of that, Mr Hamilton?’

  Hamilton looked at Hall with something that quite closely approximated the policeman’s stare.

  ‘Yes, I’m quite sure.’

  Hall thanked Hamilton and Jenkins, and asked if there was anything that Hamilton wanted to say. There wasn’t.

  Hall wasn’t surprised at how it had gone, nor was he especially disappointed. He was more convinced than ever that Simon Hamilton was guilty, and he’d said exactly what he’d expected him to do. He was gambling that Hall’s team wouldn’t be able to catch him in a lie. If he turned out to be right then Hall knew that there was little or no chance of a conviction. Even if his shoes still had any traces of soil and leaf litter on them there was no real likelihood that forensics would be able to say, categorically, that they had come from Serpentine Woods.

  But what about Sarah Hamilton? Why was she persisting in providing her husband with an alibi? If it came to it, and Hamilton ended up being charged, she’d probably avoid prosecution anyway, because Hall was betting that he’d actually reached home at around 9.45pm. That was a long move from her original estimate of 8.30pm, but close enough to what she was saying now. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t respond to pressure.

  Hall just couldn’t work out who Sarah Hamilton was most frightened of, her husband or the police. Hall decided to ask Jane for her view. ‘I’ve been thinking about Mrs Hamilton. Let’s assume that she’s lying for Simon, and has been all along. Why would she do that do you think?’

  ‘You want me to put myself in her position?’

  ‘Yes, in a way.’

  ‘Well that’s not going to be easy. Simon is such a slime-ball.’

  ‘Do your best. What do you think? Loyalty, love; worry about losing that lovely lifestyle?’

  Jane Francis took her time.

  ‘They’re all possible, and a mixture of motives is an option as well. I don’t think there’s a strong probability of coercion, or at least of physical intimidation if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s got no record for violence, and usually something has happened by now if it’s going to. Of course that doesn’t mean to say that he hasn’t got her mentally cowed. I’d say that’s much more likely, but of course I’m just guessing.’

  Hall nodded, and Jane went on.

  ‘There is another possibility though. What if she’s giving him an alibi because she knew that he was up to no good, but not about the murder? And now she’s stuck with it, even though she must know by now that we’ve got him firmly in the frame for Amy’s murder?’

  Hall hadn’t thought of that, and he was intrigued.

  ‘What sort of thing?’

  ‘Something white-collar, fraud maybe. Connected to the building game perhaps. Money-laundering even.’

  ‘Hold that thought. We should consider that possibility, and see where it takes us. But for now let’s get on with the meeting.’

  Mann had assembled what was left of the team. The specialists had all returned to HQ, so he was down to himself, Mann and Francis, plus a uniformed Sergeant and three PCs. He briefed them first.

  ‘Ian is coming out with you, and you’re going to re-canvass all the houses near to the entrance of the woods, plus all the dog walkers and others who were on that stretch of Queen’s Road between half eight and half nine on Wednesday.’

  Hall didn’t have to wait long for the groans. It wasn’t unexpected.

  ‘Don’t worry, we do have something new to go on. We want to know if anyone saw this car or this man, with or without Amy, last Wednesday evening. Please work each of them hard, really get them to think back over that evening carefully.’ Hall handed out the plastic folders containing a picture of Simon Hamilton, plus front, rear and side shots of his Mercedes.

  ‘How many are there in total Ian?’

  ‘20 doors and four walkers. I’ll do the walkers myself.’

  ‘Great. And remember, if you get a positive of any kind then close the interview down immediately, and get them straight in here. Any sighting at all could be vital. Is everyone clear? Good, away you go then. Jane, you and me are going to look again at Simon and Sarah’s finances, let’s see if we can take your idea anywhere. But first let’s take a ride round to see John Hamilton.’

  Jane joined Hall in the car park, and as they drove he noticed her perfume. He liked it. Hall put on some REM, and Jane sang along toNew Test Leper. Usually hated it when people did that, but not this time.

  John Hamilton was at home, and his mother was fussing around, tidying up and making him some food. ‘I don’t think he’s eaten since it happened’ she said, as she showed Hall and Francis in to the living room. Then she went back towards the kitchen.

  ‘Why are you here this time?’ John’s tone was anything but friendly, and Hall was very slightly taken aback for a second or two. But it didn’t show.

  ‘I wanted to go over something with you, and also chat a bit about your brother. It’s in your interests, I assure you.’

  ‘My brother didn’t kill Amy. He didn’t kill anyone. You have to try harder to find out who did.’ Hamilton’s tone was definitely tetchy. His initial deference towards the Police had evaporated, and on balance Hall preferred that. He wasn’t really used to it.

  ‘Let’s talk about when your brother came round to see you last week.’

  ‘I told you, he was never on his own. He couldn’t have planted that phone.’

  ‘He says that he went to the loo.’

  Hamilton looked surprised. ‘Did he? I didn’t notice.’

  ‘Can you think back and try to remember. How long was he gone for?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s all a blur. Mind you, that’s partly because I’ve been sitting in a cell at the police station and been charged with my own daughter’s murder, wouldn’t you say? I think it’s just some kind of protection mechanism. My mind, my memory, everything sort of shut down.’

  ‘That’s OK, don’t worry. I know you’re trying to help.’

  ‘So finally you do believe that I didn’t murder Amy?’ Hamilton’s tone had softened slightly.

  ‘We have a new, active line of enquiry to follow, that’s all I can say for now.’

  John Hamilton nodded.

  ‘My mum was here when Simon was round, perhaps she will remember something.’

  ‘Good idea. Jane, would you ask Mrs Hamilton if she could join us for a second.’

  Hall waited until Jane had left the room. ‘Off the record’ said Hall quietly, ‘can you see any motive for your brother being involved? Anything at all?’

  ‘Are you thinking about child abuse? Is that what this is all about?’

  Hall said nothing, and waited.

  ‘Absolutely not. Definitely not. I’m certain of it.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘The money? Like I told you Simon wasn’t happy with his settlement, and as luck would have it trade has been better since he decided to cash in his chips. But that was his call. My brother just never really was a businessman. He likes to act the part, likes the trappings, but when it comes down to it he’s just not a grafter,
and he has no patience. Our dad spotted it early on. Simon never liked that much.’

  ‘What’s your brother like in other respects?’

  ‘A good lad really. They couldn’t have kids, but it’s not something we ever talk about. He’s a bit flash, a bit impulsive, reckless even sometimes. And though we’ve fallen out a bit over the payment he got for his shares, and I probably knocked him back a bit harder than I needed to when he did come back for more, I’m sure everything will be back to normal soon. Blood’s thicker than water as they say.’

  In Hall’s professional opinion that old saying couldn’t be more wrong, but he said nothing. It wouldn’t have helped. Jane opened the door to the living room, and Mrs Hamilton came in with a tray of tea and coffee.

  ‘John’s dinner won’t be long, Inspector’ she said firmly.

  Hall took the hint. ‘We’re just off, but I just wanted to ask you one thing before we go. Last Thursday, you were here all day?’

  ‘Yes, from five minutes after John called me with the news until very late that night. I only live a few houses further up the road.’

  ‘And Simon came round?’

  ‘Of course. As soon as he heard. He stayed for an hour or so.’

  ‘When he was here, was he in the same room as you all the time?’

  ‘No, I was in the kitchen quite a lot of the time. Simon was mainly in here, with John.’

  ‘Did you by any chance see Simon anywhere else in the house that day?’

  ‘No, not that I remember. Is it important?’ She looked anxiously across at her son.

  ‘Mum, if I didn’t kill Amy, and you know I didn’t, then someone must have planted the phone to incriminate me.’

  ‘But you can’t think it was your own brother?’ She turned to Hall. ‘Are you intent on destroying this family?’

  ‘Mrs Hamilton’ said Hall, as calmly as ever, ‘either your son brought the phone into the house, or someone else did.’