Devil in the Detail by A.J. Cross (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

Watts looked around the room. ‘Anything else on the Lawrences’ relatives, friends and associates?’

‘Reynolds has made contact with two of his friends, Sarge. A Simon Williams and a Matthew Barnes.’

Reynolds stood, one hand raised, a leftover from the sixth former he’d been in the not-so-distant past. ‘Simon Williams told me that Mrs Lawrence has very few close relatives. Mr Lawrence is from a large family. He said he met Mike Lawrence at college, but contact between them was very limited since Lawrence got married.’

Watts eyed him. ‘You asked why?’

The young officer shook his head.

‘Got any theory on it, Reynolds?’

‘I was thinking that being married and all that, they had other things to do …’ Hearing several low laughs, he looked flustered.

‘What else did you get from this Williams?’

‘He works from home. He’s some sort of designer for a toy company. He lives about four miles from the Lawrences’ house. He doesn’t know Molly Lawrence that well. He said he has no idea why anyone would do either of them harm. He also said that Mike Lawrence had told him that his wife was pregnant.’ He looked up at Watts. ‘He did give me the name of one person Mike Lawrence didn’t get along with: Damien Alphon.’

‘Who’s he?’

‘He said he was one of Mike Lawrence’s work colleagues.’

‘And?’ He waited. ‘What about this other friend, Matthew Barnes?’

Reynolds quickly turned a page, his eyes searching the detail. ‘Matthew Barnes and Mike Lawrence were friends for years, a similar story to the one I got from Williams.’ He gave Watts a quick look. ‘He told me he dated Mrs Lawrence very briefly before she met Mike Lawrence.’

‘And you asked him about that and how he felt about what’s happened to her?’

‘No, sir. It seemed a bit … personal.’

Ignoring more grins and eye-rolls, Watts regarded the young officer, now a beacon of discomfort. ‘You need to start asking the next question. Make it soon because I’m getting older by the minute.’ Some officers were sending sympathetic looks to the hapless Reynolds. ‘Anything else?’ He waited out more page-searching.

‘Yes, sir. I went to Mike Lawrence’s place of work. It’s an interior design company. I asked to see the boss there, a Sebastian Engar, but he wasn’t there. I tried asking a few of the other employees what they knew about Mike Lawrence. They said Mr Engar had told them not to discuss it. That he would provide the police with “all relevant information” at a later time.’

Watts took the notes from Reynolds and looked at them. ‘Very neat, Reynolds. Very clear. Just bear in mind the next time you’re on a visit that you are the police and they give you whatever you ask for.’

‘Sir.’ Reynolds quickly sat.

‘I’ll be seeing Williams, Alphon and Engar.’ Watts searched for Judd. ‘You’ll be on the visits with me—’

‘Sir?’ Reynolds half-rose. ‘Mr Engar’s on holiday.’

‘Nice to know you’re on the ball, Reynolds.’ He picked up a note. ‘A forensic update: still awaiting fingerprint and DNA testing of the gun, DNA testing of Molly Lawrence’s clothing, plus fingerprint analysis of her watch. Needless to say, if any DNA was transferred from her upper body on to her clothes, it’ll be our silver bullet. Not the best analogy in the circumstances, but accurate.’ He paused, glanced at Traynor.

‘Will has an update.’

Traynor stood. ‘I spoke with Molly Lawrence for the third time, earlier today. It’s extremely unlikely that she will be able to supply this investigation with a more detailed account of the attack on her and her husband. She has also declined to speak with PC Judd about the sexual aspect of it. I’m considering a possible change of approach with her. If I decide there’s a chance it could assist this case, I’ll discuss it with Detective Inspector Watts.’

Amid a low buzz of talk, Watts reached for his file. ‘That’s it for now.’

He headed for the door looking irritated, hooking a finger at Jones. Outside the incident room, he turned to him, forefinger raised.

‘You don’t send somebody who’s got about as much nous as a nun at a swingers’ party to do visits you should be doing with him. How else is he going to learn?’

‘Sorry, Sarge. We’re up to here with investigative visits, paperwork, and I thought Reynolds—’

‘Who isn’t “up to here”? What you do is your job, part of which is to have Reynolds with you on visits so he can see how you do it!’ He turned and headed downstairs, Jones following him.

‘There’s another mate of Mike Lawrence’s I haven’t managed to make contact with so far, Sarge. Benedict Sill.’

‘Leave it with me.’

Back in his office, Watts was feeling rattled. Traynor’s admission of what amounted to defeat with Molly Lawrence wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. He looked at the board, his eyes drifting over what was up there. Brendan Lawrence’s name got his attention. Except for the extra weight, he could almost be a twin of his dead brother. Was this case one of mistaken identity? Were the shootings motivated by a business-related grudge against Brendan, and brother Mike died as a result? In Watts’ experience, builders overcharged, disregarded completion dates and were a pain in the tail. To his knowledge nobody had ever killed one because of it.

He ran his hands through his hair, reached for the desk phone, dialled the number for Sebastian Engar, Mike Lawrence’s boss. After a brief exchange, during which he learned that Engar would be in his office at the end of the week, he said, ‘Please inform Mr Engar that I’ll see him at his office on Friday. I’ll see Damien Alphon at the same time.’ He ended the call as Judd came in.

‘I want you in here at eight in the morning. Thanks to Reynolds’ non-attention to detail, we’ll be seeing Simon Williams and Matthew Barnes, the two mates of Mike Lawrence’s. On Friday we visit Sebastian Engar at his business address where we’ll also see Damien Alphon.’

She was looking keen. ‘How about I go and see Williams and