The Doll's House (23 page)

‘Adrian Hamilton was a dreamer. Successful in business, yes, but it takes more than dreams of success to be successful. He got lucky, as far as I understand it, invested in stocks and shares when many other people were risk averse, a little like now, really.’

‘Go on.’ O’Connor was already writing in his notebook.

‘He set up his own business – Hamilton Holdings, I think it was called.’

‘And what kind of business was that?’

‘Anything that would make money. Investments primarily … venture capital for new ideas, property, you know the kind of thing.’

‘And it was successful you say?’

‘For a time, Detective Inspector, but at some point Adrian’s luck ran out.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Every dog on the street knew he had big money worries. That was partly why suicide was suspected the moment his body turned up in the water.’

‘Do you know what happened to the company, Hamilton Holdings, after his death?’

‘And why would I know that, Detective Inspector?’ Deborah Gahan’s voice chilled.

‘You’re a successful businesswoman, Deborah.’ O’Connor smiled, hoping his charm might do him some good. ‘You strike me as someone who would know these things.’

Kate couldn’t help but admire how O’Connor got information out of people. He figured out fast which buttons to press, and using Deborah Gahan’s first name, while alluding to her business acumen, loosened the tight rein ever so slightly.

‘It was sold, as far as I know. Quite early on, actually, long before an official receiver could be appointed.’

‘When?’

‘It was soon after the inquest, Detective Inspector. A generous benefactor, I understand.’

‘Generous?’ O’Connor waited again.

‘It was believed that whoever acquired it paid a heavy price to Adrian Hamilton’s widow. She was the sole beneficiary of Adrian’s estate. There was the life-assurance policy, of course, but that alone wouldn’t have been enough.’

‘You seem to know a lot about the Hamiltons’ life?’ It was the first question Kate had asked Deborah Gahan, and it wasn’t one she expected to be received well.

Deborah Gahan cleared her throat, as if contemplating her response. ‘Dr Pearson, people with money tend to know a lot about each other’s lives, especially when they fall down on their luck.’ Her tone was harsh.

Kate knew she had to tread carefully. ‘Ms Gahan, whoever killed your brother most likely also killed Keith Jenkins. Everything indicates a single offender, and we can’t rule out the possibility of him acting again. If you know anything, anything at all, it’s important you share that knowledge.’

‘And do you have any idea, Dr Pearson, of the type of man who would do this? After all, that is your field of expertise.’ Deborah Gahan was fishing, and Kate knew it, but she needed to gain the woman’s trust if they had any chance of getting some concrete information out of her.

‘We know from witness statements that we’re looking for a male, someone similar in build to the late Keith Jenkins and possibly similar in age. Both crimes strongly suggest someone within a mature age grouping, and someone capable of keeping his cool. On each occasion, the killer was able to control the proceedings long enough to maximise his chances of success, especially as the murders happened in public places. I’m pretty sure this man knows exactly why he has carried out his actions, and is quite specific in how and what he wants to achieve. We can’t be one hundred per cent sure that he knew either your brother or Keith Jenkins before they met their deaths, but all the indicators point to that being the case. Until we know
why
your brother and Keith Jenkins were killed, we have no idea who else is at risk.’

Kate let the last piece of information sink in, hoping it would be enough to shift Deborah Gahan’s attitude to them. O’Connor sat down beside Kate and waited.

‘My brother wasn’t a particularly nice man,’ Deborah Gahan
responded, ‘and I’m not talking about his fall from society. He was a schemer, always looking for the next scam he could pull. I’m not sure how involved he was with Adrian Hamilton’s financial collapse, but if he was part of it, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.’ She looked from Kate to O’Connor. ‘I can’t be completely sure but I believe it was Keith Jenkins who put the money up for Adrian Hamilton’s widow.’

O’Connor asked the next question: ‘And what makes you think that, Deborah?’

‘He was a single guy and flash with his money – expensive cars, designer clothes, living it up. He was only starting to make a name for himself in television, so it wasn’t from there that he got his money but he had plenty of it all the same.’

‘So why would he help Adrian Hamilton’s widow?’ This time Kate did the asking.

For the first time since they had arrived, Deborah Gahan smiled, but it was more like a smirk than any positive change in her mood. ‘For the same stupid reason that most men do what they do, Dr Pearson.’

‘You’re saying Keith Jenkins and Lavinia Hamilton were involved with each other?’

‘It was only rumoured but, a bit like how Adrian Hamilton’s money worries surfaced once his dead body turned up in the water, everyone started asking questions. Answers soon rose to the surface. Keith Jenkins and Lavinia Hamilton might have been discreet, although it wouldn’t have mattered too much if they hadn’t. That is, of course, if Adrian Hamilton didn’t know about it.’

Kate sat forward. ‘You don’t think Adrian’s death was an accident. You think he killed himself.’

‘Dr Pearson, whether he ended up in the water intentionally or the alcohol put him there doesn’t really matter. He was losing his business, and was probably about to lose his wife. Either or both of those things might have been enough for some people to take matters into their own hands.’

Kate felt Deborah Gahan was still holding back. ‘Was there something else?’

‘It was a long time ago, Dr Pearson.’

O’Connor had no intention of letting Kate’s last question go unanswered. ‘Deborah, if you know something else, you’d better tell us.’

‘The wife – Adrian’s wife – she lost a baby the year her husband died. A girl, I understand.’

Kate asked another question, one to which she suspected she knew the answer. ‘Ms Gahan, you said Adrian’s wife, Lavinia Hamilton, lost her baby. You didn’t include Adrian Hamilton in that loss.’

‘Oh, he was part of it all right, but perhaps not in the way he wanted. I can’t be sure, no one can, but the parentage was in some doubt. Keith Jenkins’s name was floated as the possible father. I understand after the baby died Lavinia Hamilton started to unravel.’

‘Mentally, you mean?’ Kate kept eye contact with Deborah Gahan.

‘Post-natal depression, call it what you will, but either way, she became a mess and it’s thought Adrian finally put two and two together.’

‘Who told you all this?’ O’Connor was standing up again.

Deborah Gahan turned from Kate to O’Connor. ‘Jimmy, if you must know. He was very close to the family back then.’

‘What about the two children?’

‘What about them?’ She turned back to Kate.

‘How did they cope with it all?’

‘They were children. How do you think they coped? They got on with things.’ Deborah Gahan took a deep breath, then stood up to face O’Connor. ‘Now, Detective Inspector, if you don’t mind, I can’t be any more help to you.’

‘Just one more thing, Ms Gahan.’ Kate stood up too. ‘If Keith Jenkins was the father, he would have been a number of years younger than Lavinia.’

‘So?’

‘I was just wondering how they got together in the first place.’

‘Jimmy introduced Keith to the Hamiltons.’

‘And how did Jimmy and Keith meet originally?’ O’Connor, like Kate, was reluctant to let Deborah Gahan off the hook.

‘They were both at Trinity, but attended at different times.’

‘Really, Detective, it was a long time ago.’

‘Try, Deborah. It’s important.’

‘I guess in the same way Jimmy met everyone else, in some bar …’

‘Go on.’ O’Connor still not prepared to let go.

‘Keith would have been seriously underage at the time, but that wouldn’t have bothered Jimmy. Keith seemed to look up to him …’ She paused. ‘Jimmy liked the attention. Even as a teenager Keith Jenkins had charisma.’

‘Are you saying Jimmy—’

‘I’m not saying anything of the sort. My brother was a weak man, Detective Inspector. He had an ego, and liked it when others bolstered it. You asked me how they all met, and I’ve told you.’ Deborah Gahan was digging her heels in. ‘It was all a long time ago.’

‘What about lately, Deborah? Were they still friendly?’

‘I doubt it, Detective Inspector. Keith Jenkins moved on from the likes of my brother a long time ago.’

‘Rumour has it they were still in touch.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

‘Someone killed your brother, Deborah,’

‘I’m aware of that, Detective Inspector. Now, I think I’ve spoken to you both for long enough.’

The breeze made the voice at the other end of the phone difficult to hear. After his conversation with Stevie McDaid the previous evening, he knew he needed to put more pressure on Martin. His brief interlude with Ruby McKay hadn’t been the wisest decision on his part, but he had every intention of keeping his cool. The heavies had served to keep McDaid somewhat in check. That pretty-boy face of his hadn’t aged too badly, but he hadn’t looked too pretty after the lads were finished with him.

He pulled up the collar of his heavy cashmere coat, bringing it tight around his neck. His leather-gloved hand held the mobile phone close to his ear, watching his breathing make smoke signals in the chill of the afternoon. In a low but determined voice he said, ‘Martin, it’s good to talk to you again.’

‘What do you want?’

‘We have another fish out for a swim.’

‘Who?’

‘Stevie McDaid. You do remember him? You two were quite friendly once, if my memory serves me right.’

‘What does he want?’

‘What does his kind ever fucking want, Martin?’

‘Money?’

‘Of course bloody money. He has no idea how dangerous his meddling could be for him.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘You’re not going all nervous on me now, are you?’

There was silence at the other end of the phone, Martin taking his
time answering. ‘I’m no bloody coward. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not that.’

‘Glad to hear it, Martin.’

‘What does McDaid have on you?’

‘Never mind. There’s no need for you to worry about McDaid for now. I’ve sent him on a little errand.’

‘So what do you want me to do?’

‘Just warning you to be careful. Sit tight, stay fucking calm, and keep your mouth shut.’

‘I’m good with secrets. You know that too.’

‘Well, keep it that way, Martin.’

‘What do the cops know about the killings?’

‘They’ve connected Gahan with Jenkins, nothing a rookie out of training college wouldn’t be able to do.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘They’re doing some digging. Don’t worry about that either. I’ll keep you posted. That’s not why I rang you.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘Make sure you’re still keeping a good eye on that wife of yours.’

‘She’s getting shakier by the day.’

‘Is she hitting the booze again?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Well, keep close to her.’

‘I have it under control.’

‘Good to hear it. Keep it that way.’

Hanging up, he took a long look at the historic building in front of him, before sprinting up the stone steps. He may have been in his sixties, but he wasn’t a man to let age, or anything else, get in his way.

Once outside, O’Connor lit a cigarette, dragging on it like it was a much-needed fix. ‘So what did you make of her, Kate?’

‘I think Deborah Gahan was telling us as much truth as she was prepared for us to hear. You don’t become a successful businesswoman like her without knowing how to play your cards close to your chest.’

‘So you think she’s still hiding something?’

‘She knew an awful lot, O’Connor, to not get how Keith Jenkins fits into all this of late.’

‘I agree.’ When his mobile phone rang, he kept his gaze on Kate while he answered it. ‘What? He’s sure?’ O’Connor’s expression was changing from agitation to stern determination, a look he often displayed when something in the investigation had shifted.

‘What is it, O’Connor?’

‘That was Lynch. It turns out Jimmy Gahan was dead going into the water. Heart attack, brought on by the shock of the stabbing.’

‘What exactly did Morrison tell Lynch?’

‘Well, apparently with drowning it’s often a diagnosis of exclusion, meaning Morrison began by determining what didn’t happen. Unlike Jenkins, there was no evidence of diatoms in the bloodstream. Nor did he find any sign of pressure trauma on the sinuses or the lungs. He would have expected to find haemorrhaging in the sinuses and airways …’ O’Connor hesitated as if he was still trying to take the information in.

‘Go on.’

‘Morrison also checked for water debris, which Jimmy Gahan
would have sucked in, attempting to breathe. Again he came up blank. Once drowning was ruled out as the cause of death, Morrison looked elsewhere. Jimmy Gahan suffered severe heart failure, and was a dead man before taking his plunge.’

‘But the killer still put him in the canal?’ This time it was Kate’s turn to ponder.

‘What are you thinking, Kate?’

‘We’re back to the water connection, and it could also explain something else.’

‘What?’

‘Did Morrison say if there was any time delay from when death occurred to the victim being immersed in the water?’

‘I’m not sure. What are you getting at?’

‘Jenkins was taken by car to the canal. We know there was a time interval from the last sighting of him until he turned up dead. We also know he was alive when he was brought to the canal.’

‘So?’

‘So, it gave the killer time with the victim before death.’

‘I’m still not getting you, Kate.’

‘What if the killer was looking for information from the victim? As I said in the report, with Jenkins, the initial attack was an expressive violent act, resulting from an outburst of emotional feeling and pent-up aggression. The second element of the attack, the drowning, was a means to an end. If Jimmy Gahan’s heart gave up as a result of the stabbing, it took away the killer’s opportunity to converse with his victim afterwards but, perhaps more importantly, it meant when Gahan ended up in the water, it wasn’t for any instrumental reason. He was already dead.’