Mid November
“God it’s cold. So much for global warming. What do think WPC Grant?”
Spence could not help himself. He knew that Joanne Grant was a keen supporter of Greenpeace and Save the Tigers, Save the Penguins or Save the Giraffes or whatever environmental cause was the flavour of the month. She knew that the price of working with Spence was putting up with this sort of ribbing. She had also learned that if she was ever in trouble, she knew she could turn to Spence.
“Traynor, you take WPC Grant. Ferguson you come with me.”
They headed off north along the A419. It was a slower drive than normal; there had already been a couple of nasty smashes just outside Blunsdon. Black ice!.
The search of the Davidson house had not revealed a great deal. Nigel Ferguson was a man who liked things neat, tidy, in their place and ordered. However, even he thought that the Davidson home was sterile.
“It lacked that lived-in feel Spence. No newspapers, no book next to the bed, no CDs lying about. Even the garbage bin was pristine.”
“No porn? No copy of The Sun? No William Hill betting slips?”
“When we arrived yesterday afternoon, do you know what Felicity Davidson was doing?”
Spence glanced at his DS.
“She was polishing the cutlery! Now a psychologist might suggest this obsessiveness was her way of coping with what had just happened to her husband.”
“But you don’t think so Detective Sergeant.”
Ferguson paused, and then said, “I think she’s a cold one Spence. Totally devoid of emotion. All that screaming the other night, for our benefit I’m sure. That certainly fits in with what Joanne reported.”
Spence paused for a few seconds and asked Ferguson:
“So what do you think Ferguson? Do you think Felicity Davidson has cold-bloodedly had her husband murdered for reasons of, what, jealousy, passion, boredom? What’s your gut telling you Sergeant?”
One of the first things Spence tried to impress on Ferguson was to be willing to trust one’s instincts. Evidence is crucial, listen to Josie Collins, but try to understand what your gut is telling you.
“Too early to tell Spence. I’m thinking ‘No’, but I’m going to keep an open mind with this woman. I’m sure we’ll learn more when we start talking to people at Woodlands.”
Spence smiled. Their guts were in sync.
“What about Mrs Davidson’s late night phone call that WPC Grant interrupted?”
“We checked her phone. Must remember to give it back to her too. Random number, couldn’t get an identity just yet. Could be anyone. And I am guessing that there was even less love between father-in-law and son-in-law than between husband and wife.”
Spence glanced over for corroboration.
“Traynor spent a few hours checking the Davidson finances. Pretty uncomplicated, and you were right Spence. Their combined teachers’ incomes would have been hard pressed to maintain that little palace of theirs in Merton Ave, and the cars and the foreign holidays.”
“Daddy?”
“That’s right. Mrs Davidson’s father bought them that house, and Felicity’s bank account showed regular direct transfers from her father.”
Spence was about to suggest Ferguson interview the father –
“I’m going to see Felicity Davidson’s father this afternoon. He has a massive country house just outside of Marlborough.”
Spence nodded and smiled at his Sergeant. He didn’t need to say anything.
“Here we are Ferguson. Bring back happy memories does it?”
Ferguson grimaced. Spence laughed.
Spence drove to the main gate and exchanged pleasantries with the security guard. The guard directed them to a discreet parking spot behind the main administration building, and told them they were to go in through the back entrance. Robert Hamsby was obviously trying to ensure their presence remained as unobtrusive as possible. Traynor and Joanne Grant were already there. The four of them walked towards the rear door.
“Is it getting colder or what?” Spence said.
“No sir. I think perhaps you might just be getting older.”
Spence gave Joanne Grant a broad smile. Good to see she had a sense of humour.
Robert Hamsby was waiting for them. Once the introductions were out of the way, it was down to business. Hamsby had allocated four rooms for the staff interviews. Joanne Grant and Ferguson were given adjoining rooms in what was imaginatively called E Block. Traynor had the counsellor’s room in the admin block; Spence was given Robert Hamsby’s office.
Spence gave his final instructions.
“Now remember. Don’t get into any discussion about Roger Davidson’s murder, no speculation, no information about what happened to him. Keep it general. Did you know him well? What sort of person was he? How did he get on with everyone? You know the drill. Okay, let’s get to it. Thanks for setting this up so quickly Bob.”
“You’ll also find a list of names in each room. I got Miss Tims to work out a running order for your interviews.”
Miss Tims gave Spence a look that said she had spent hours on this particular exercise.
“I am most grateful Miss Tims. Your efforts will make our difficult task so much easier to perform. Thank you.”
Spence really could lay it on thick when he had a mind to.
“Right let’s get to it.”
Spence went into the headmaster’s office.
“Constable, the counsellor’s room is just down here, second door on the left.” Traynor nodded and took himself there.
He then spoke to Ferguson and WPC Grant, “I am afraid you are going to have to venture outside to get to E Block. Miss Tims will show you where it is.”
With as little enthusiasm as she could muster, Hamsby’s secretary led the two officers outside. It was going to be a busy morning.
“A word before we start Bob.”
“Of course, Winston.”
Hamsby led Spence into his office.
“Please, the headmaster’s chair, see how it fits.”
Both men smiled, and both shook their head.
“Give me a quick run-down of your staff Bob. Standouts, anyone left, new people?”
“My Deputy Bill Williams died in August, big loss. Two retired, three left in July, two of them promoted. Three new staff this year. It is a pretty stable staff here Winston.”
Spence was not surprised. Had he stayed in teaching, Robert Hamsby is the sort of boss he would have wanted to work for.
“What about the new people?”
“Leila Mohammed from Bradford, mid-twenties, Commerce and Economics, joined at the start of term. Great teacher, lucky to get her, I have to tell her to go home most days. Shane Tott from Southampton, joined us in January. Teaches Geography. A former colleague of mine recommended him. Not the sort of guy you would want to spend a couple of hours in the pub with, but his classes seem to go quite well. And Karen Turner, Maths, good girl, joined us back in April when her husband got a move to Swindon. He works for Northern Energy.”
Ferguson’s first interviewee was Charlie Page.
“Did you know Roger Davidson well Mr Page?”
“We