Dead Right by Peter Robinson

Author:Peter Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Canada

Many thanks for your interest in the work of FoxWood Designs. Unfortunately, we have had to suspend business for the time being due to bereavement. We hope you will be patient and bring your business to us in the near future, and we apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you.

Yours sincerely,

Mark Wood

“Mark Wood. So we’ve got a name,” said Banks.

Susan nodded. “As I said, it’s not much, but it’s a place to start. This could be the lad who was with Jason in The Jubilee. At the very least, he’s Jason’s business partner. He ought to know something.”

“Maybe,” said Banks. “But he still might prove to have nothing to do with the case at all.”

“But don’t you think it’s a bit fishy that he hasn’t come forward yet, no matter who he is?”

“Yes,” said Banks. “But Liza Williams didn’t come forward, either. Jason’s neighbour in Rawdon. She didn’t see any reason to. Nor did Motcombe.”

“Well, sir,” Susan went on, “I still think we should try and find him as soon as possible.”

“Oh, I agree.” Banks reached for his briefcase. “Don’t mind me, Susan. I’m just a bit down in the dumps about what happened to Frank Hepplethwaite.”

Susan nodded. “I understand.”

“Anyway,” Banks went on, “there’s one thing we can check, for a start. I got a fax from Ken Blackstone listing Motcombe’s properties and tenants. I haven’t had time to have a good look at it yet.” He pulled the sheets of paper out and glanced over them. “Seems Motcombe owns a fair bit of property,” he said after a few moments. “Four houses in addition to his own, two of them divided into flats and bedsits, the semi where Jason Fox lived, and a shop with a flat above it in Bramley. He also owns the old grocer’s shop where the Albion League operates from, as we thought.” Finally, a few seconds later, he shook his head in disappointment. “There’s no Mark Wood listed among the tenants. Maybe that would have been too easy.”

“I wonder where Motcombe got his money from,” Susan said.

“Members’ dues?” Hatchley chipped in.

“Hardly likely,” said Banks, with a grim smile. “Maybe he inherited it? I’ll get in touch with Ken again, see if he can work up some more background on Mr Motcombe for us.”

“You don’t really think he did it, do you?” Susan asked.

“Kill Jason? Honestly? No. For a start, he doesn’t seem to have a motive. And even if he did have something to do with it, he certainly didn’t do it himself. I doubt he’s got the bottle. Or the strength. Remember, Jason was a pretty tough customer. But let’s have a closer look at him anyway. I don’t like the bastard, or what he stands for, so any grief we can give him is fine with me. Even a traffic offence. Besides, I’d look a right prat if we overlooked something obvious, wouldn’t I? And that’s the last thing I need right now.”

“The chief constable?” Susan ventured.

Banks nodded. “Himself. In the flesh.

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