? ? ?
Beth wanted to fly straight back to England so she could confront Christina before the wedding took place, but William talked her out of the idea. He knew it would only give Faulkner another opportunity to escape, and if he did, it would be the only thing anyone remembered about his short and undistinguished career. It helped that Catherine had stepped in and insisted Beth stay with them while she was in New York.
‘The Met, the Frick and the MoMA with our own personal tour guide?’ said Catherine. ‘What more could a girl ask for?’
Mr Justice Whittaker nodded sagely, but didn’t comment when his wife said she would be only too happy to accompany Beth to Carnegie Hall and take William’s seat for the Ella Fitzgerald concert. The judge didn’t complain, but then he’d never heard of Ella Fitzgerald. He couldn’t wait to return to England and preside once again over the trial of Miles Faulkner, and had already decided on the length of his sentence.
‘What about Christina?’ Beth asked him.
‘Assisting an offender,’ pronounced the judge, ‘although Mr Booth Watson wouldn’t find it difficult to get her off that charge, as long as she doesn’t visit Captain Ralph Neville in prison.’
William couldn’t wait to get back to England.
? ? ?
‘How many murders were there in London last year?’ asked Commander Hawksby, as he took his place at the head of the table for the first meeting of the newly formed Unsolved Murders Unit.
‘One hundred and eighty-one, sir,’ replied Detective Sergeant Adaja.
‘How many of those were domestic?’ asked The Hawk, switching his attention to the other side of the table. Although the room was large compared with the rabbit warren the rest of the team worked in, the table in the centre could just about seat six. A photograph of the Queen hung on the wall behind The Hawk’s desk, and a silver cup on the bookshelf reminded them that he’d once been the Met’s middleweight boxing champion.
‘Thirty-four,’ said Jackie.
‘And how many of those ended up with a conviction?’
‘Twenty-nine. Most of them were waiting for us to turn up, while the remainder were arrested within twenty-four hours.’
‘That’s the secret. Most domestic murders are solved in the first twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the most,’ said The Hawk. ‘After that, they begin to think they’ve got away with it, and become more and more confident as each day passes.’
‘Which is certainly true in the case of Mr Clive Pugh,’ said Jackie, opening her case file. ‘He murdered his wife a couple of months after taking out a million-pound insurance policy on her life, and was handsomely rewarded for his trouble.’
‘Why wasn’t he convicted?’ demanded The Hawk.
‘We didn’t have enough evidence to charge him, so he literally got away with murder.’
‘Then find the necessary evidence, DS Roycroft,’ said The Hawk. ‘Because if there’s one thing that makes a potential murderer think twice, it’s the thought that he won’t get away with it. That still leaves us with a hundred and forty-seven murders that can’t be described as domestic. DC Pankhurst, how many of those resulted in arrests?’
Rebecca didn’t need to open the file in front of her to answer the commander’s question. ‘One hundred and forty-three, sir.’
‘How many of those ended up in prison?’
‘One hundred and thirty-nine, and, of the other four, we know who the murderers are, but we didn’t have enough solid evidence to convince the Crown Prosecution Service they should be put on trial.’
‘Details?’ demanded The Hawk.
‘One of them, a Max Sleeman, is a particularly nasty piece of work,’ said DS Adaja, opening his case file. ‘He’s a loan shark, and if you don’t pay up on time, you end up with a broken arm or leg. And if you still fail to deliver, he rents a hearse, but doesn’t cover the funeral costs.’
‘I want Sleeman arrested,’ said The Hawk, ‘and preferably before the next poor sod is eliminated.’
‘Already on it,’ said Paul.
‘Three to go,’ said The Hawk. ‘DC Pankhurst, what can you tell me about a certain Darren Carter?’
‘He’s a bouncer at the Eve Club in Soho,’ said Rebecca. ‘Pleaded guilty to manslaughter and got off with a two-year sentence. Though I’ve no doubt it was a premeditated murder that he carried out on behalf of the club’s owner.’
‘Then I want him back in jail. Double jeopardy doesn’t apply if fresh evidence can be produced,’ The Hawk reminded her. ‘And, DC Pankhurst, I also want the club shut down and to make sure that the owner never gets another licence. That should keep you occupied for the time being. Which leaves the final two cases that have been gathering dust for far too long.’