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Authors: Elizabeth Darrell

Indian Summer (26 page)

BOOK: Indian Summer
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‘We have evidence to the contrary,' said Max, switching on the tape recorder and giving the introductory details of who was present, the date and time. Then he began the questioning. ‘Are you Sergeant Gabriel Cruz of the Royal Engineers?'

Cruz looked aggressive. ‘What's this about? I don't know anything.'

‘Just answer the question,' ruled Max in fully official mode.

After a moment of resistance, Cruz said, ‘Yes.'

Max nodded. ‘Are you of Portuguese descent?'

Again long hesitation before the affirmative was given.

‘Are you related to Sergeant Fabio Cruz, who was killed in action in June 2007?'

It now began to dawn on him where this was leading, and he nodded sullenly.

‘Speak for the tape,' ordered Tom.

‘He was my brother,' he admitted almost in a whisper.

‘The brother serving with 23 Regiment, Special Air Services?'

‘Yes.'

‘Are you aware of the manner of your brother's death?'

‘No.'

‘We have evidence to the contrary, Sergeant.'

Cruz tried to brazen it out. ‘What they do is top secret. Everyone knows that.'

Tom introduced a new angle. ‘Was your brother to have been married seven days after he was killed?'

‘Um . . . yes. Yes, he was.'

‘Married to whom?'

Cruz was openly worried. ‘I don't actually know. We . . . we weren't all that close.'

‘You hadn't been invited to the wedding?'

‘They wanted a quiet affair. Because of his job,' he added inventively.

‘According to your father the entire family had been invited to a full-scale celebration in Cornwall, where the prospective bride's parents run a large market garden,' said Max, who had phoned Cruz senior in Madeira from Heathrow. Max then asked if Cruz still claimed he did not know the name of his brother's fiancée.

‘I just said, we weren't close.'

‘Really? At the time of his death your Section was also in Iraq. Lieutenant Sears told me an hour ago that you met up with Fabio and another of your brothers whose regiment was in the same area of operations.'

‘Oh! Yes, I'd forgotten that.' He forced a smile. ‘We talked about the job, like guys do. It's women who cackle on about weddings.'

‘So the immediately imminent marriage wasn't mentioned? You and your brother didn't express regrets that you couldn't be there? You didn't wish him and his future bride well?'

‘I . . . probably. Yes, I guess we did. It was two years ago, and we
were
in a warzone,' he reminded them in a buddies-in-arms tone.

Tom said, ‘Do you know Lieutenant Dunstan of the Intelligence Corps?'

Momentarily thrown, Cruz stammered,' No. Well, I know she's on this base because our boss mentioned that he jousts with her, that's all.'

‘So why d'you think he told us she often visits you?'

‘Dunno. He's mistaken.'

‘You never meet up with her on a one to one basis?'

‘Never.'

‘So Sergeant Figgis, Corporals Fane and Edwards are also mistaken in saying you're very friendly with her?'

Cruz was now seriously rattled. ‘Look, what's this about, sir? Why am I getting the third degree?'

Max looked him sternly in the eyes. ‘We have reason to believe you knew it was Philip Keane who fired the shot that killed your brother, so when you discovered his body at some time during the Open Day you decided to make a statement with it in the water tank.'

‘Why would I do that?' he demanded wildly.

‘You tell us.'

Silence.

‘Where did you find Keane's body, Sergeant Cruz?'

Still silence.

‘Bad enough to lose a brother to enemy fire, but to learn one of our own killed him would hit really hard. If you then came across that person lying dead, the opportunity to make some small gesture of revenge would be hard to resist, wouldn't it?' Maintaining his uncompromising eye contact, Max asked quietly, ‘Where did you find Keane's body, Sergeant?'

Cruz's resistance collapsed dramatically. Shoulders sagging, he gazed at the scratched surface of the table and spoke as if to himself. ‘When I heard about it I could have killed Keane with my bare hands, but the
RCR
had left Iraq by then. Things hotted up for us out there soon after. Two of our lads were blown up trying to diffuse land mines and I . . . I suppose something like that . . . well, I just wanted to kill the ragheads who'd killed my mates.'

He looked up at Max then. ‘When I came across him lying there, it all came back. The desire for revenge. I wanted his death to be grotesque. I needed to
mark
him in some way; show the anger of my parents, three sisters and three brothers.'

Into the silence, Tom said, ‘Initially you had wanted to kill Keane with your bare hands. Choke him to death. So you simulated strangulation in the tank.'

Cruz nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘How did you transport the body to the tank from where you found it?'

‘Carried it.'

‘So it was lying near the tank? Where, exactly?'

Cruz swallowed. ‘Not
carried
it, as such. Lifted it into my car, then drove to the tank.'

‘From where, Sergeant?'

‘Over by the Armoury, sir.'

‘The Armoury was fenced off during the Open Day.'

Cruz stared back, lost for words, and Tom added pressure by asking, ‘How did you know the body was that of Philip Keane, know with such certainty as you happened to be driving past? It would have been dark. Lieutenant Sears revealed this morning that you didn't leave the vicinity of the water tank from the time the public came on the base until they left. Sergeant Figgis claimed you and he spent most of the evening together, and you confirmed that. If that's true, it must have been around twenty-three hundred when you found Keane. Why were you driving near the Armoury at that hour?'

Against the extended silence came the faint sound of people entering the premises, and Max silently congratulated Heather on her immaculate timing.

‘I'm going to pause this interview, Sergeant Cruz. A member of my staff has just brought in Lieutenant Dunstan for questioning. We would like to hear her testimony before we go into your explanation of your movements last Saturday night.'

Cruz reacted energetically. ‘Why're you questioning Mel? She had nothing to do with it.'

‘So you do know Lieutenant Dunstan. Well enough to call her by her first name, apparently.'

‘Leave her out of this, sir,' he begged Max. ‘It's a
family
thing.'

‘A family she was set to join two years ago,' he retorted, getting to his feet. ‘Mr Black and I will return after hearing her account of what happened.'

Pausing as they walked to the other interview room, Max spoke quietly to Tom. ‘He's lying to protect her. Witness statements prove he couldn't have found Keane, and I suspect we're now about to confront a very sharp lady.'

‘Against whom we have no solid evidence.'

Max smiled. ‘The scene of crime lads lifted fingerprints from the platform beside the water tank. If hers match an unidentified set she'll have to explain what she was doing there. Let's see if we can outwit her before resorting to that.'

The two women were sitting in silence when they entered. Heather was wearing a jacket with her plain navy skirt now autumn was showing its true face; Melanie Dunstan had added a khaki pullover bearing two pips to her uniform. Having been unsure what to expect of this young woman who liked to joust as a hobby and who must be highly intelligent, Max's first impression supported the belief that she was a very sharp lady. Neither glamorous nor butch, the large-boned subaltern had an attractive narrow face and large greenish eyes bright with awareness.

Max introduced himself and Tom, then thanked Heather who departed wearing a satisfied smile. Tom loaded the recorder and set it running to give the introductory details, while Max concentrated on the young woman sitting with evident composure and patience.

‘Lieutenant Dunstan, you undoubtedly know that our investigation into the death of Corporal Philip Keane has proved it to have been the result of a fatal bee sting. We now have to establish why his body was subsequently put in the water tank with that jellyfish round its neck. We believe you can throw some light on this.'

Throughout this speech she sat relaxed, meeting Max's forthright gaze with a matching optical challenge. ‘Why would you think that, Captain Rydal?'

‘Were you engaged to Sergeant Fabio Cruz, 23 Regiment, Special Air Services, who was listed as killed in action in Iraq seven days before the planned wedding?'

To his surprise she smiled and softly clapped her hands. ‘Bravo! I thought you'd give up long before tracing that connection. However did you do it?'

Rising to this provocation, Max said, ‘We're investigators. We don't give up easily.'

Tom came in quickly with, ‘Were you aware of the circumstances of your fiancé's death?'

‘That it was a blue on blue? Yes, the info came in within a matter of hours. The task of finding
who
had murdered him took me much, much longer. I eventually narrowed the search down to a night patrol by men of the Cumberland Rifles.' She let out her breath slowly and a frown appeared between her eyes. ‘Unfortunately, my endeavours to track down this killer were halted for six months. The burning desire for revenge, on top of my grief, caused a breakdown. I was out of action for half a year.'

‘When you returned to duty did you resume your campaign to trace whoever was responsible for Fabio Cruz's death?' asked Max, taken unawares by this ready confession.

‘Of course,' she said with a touch of contempt, ‘but by then all official records had been wiped, including ours. I tried every available means, but the top secret sensitivity of the mission that night had created a solid wall that couldn't be penetrated.

Max knew that all too well and he guessed what she would say next. He had worked the same way.

‘As always in these cases, although records can be wiped, the participants' memories can't. Men can be silenced by the Official Secrets Act, but men are human and have the usual weaknesses.' Her eyes narrowed. ‘I set out to exploit that fact. I cultivated the friendship of an
RCR
captain attached to
GCHQ
earlier this year. As I guessed, the Cumberland Rifles believed the fable dished out to that patrol by your guys in Iraq. The bastard who shot Fabio was regarded as a hero for putting an end to a raghead.'

For the first time Max glimpsed the passion kept rigorously in check by this outwardly controlled woman. It flared in her eyes, it set her hands gripping each other tightly. As Tom was about to speak Max kicked his foot to prevent him. Amazingly, Melanie Dunstan looked set to offer a full account without any prompting.

‘It only needed a little flattery to get all the details, including the name of the “hero”. Keane by name, too keen by nature.' She gave a vicious smile. ‘I'll remember that name as long as I live.'

Max made no attempt to interrupt, and she soon continued. ‘I applied for a transfer out here but, by the time a vacancy had occurred, the
RCR
had departed for Afghanistan. Annoying, but I could wait another five months. My one dread was that Keane would return in a wooden box and deprive me of what I had to do for Fabio. Those five months at least gave me time to plan the many options available but, when I heard about the Open Day I knew that would give me the greatest freedom for the job.'

She leaned back in the chair and unclenched her hands, a return of calmness replacing the temporary tension. ‘I'd encouraged brother Gabbi to grow very fond of me over the five months, and I'd also made a play for Pete Rogers of the Cumberland Rifles
HQ
Company. Men are so
gullible
,' she added with contempt. ‘He never realized I was just using him to keep a tab on Keane's movements when he returned. Pete faithfully recited the bastard's address and marital status, along with the fact that his wife had spent the months while Keane was away with her mother in the
UK
. That told me Keane was unlikely to spend his R and R there, so I finalized my plan of attack.'

Tom was unable to stay silent at this. ‘Your plan of attack?'

She had been concentrating solely on Max, and now faced Tom as though surprised by his presence. ‘How I was going to kill Keane.'

‘By choking the life out of him?' suggested Max.

Her gaze returned to hold his. ‘Top marks! I was brought up in the country, Captain Rydal. You need strong hands to deal with animals, and mine were going to kill him slowly and painfully while I told him why.'

‘You freely admit it was your intention to murder Philip Keane?'

‘
Avenge
. There's a difference.'

‘Go on,' he said grittily.

‘I parked nearby where I could watch the house, but I thought I was out of luck when I saw a taxi pick Keane up soon after nine. I knocked and said I'd been sent to take her husband to
HQ
Company urgently. That gross woman said I could take him to the abattoir for all she cared.'

Mel smiled. ‘I then heard a catalogue of his sins before learning that she was leaving him and going to a friend for the weekend. Then she said he would be back in a couple of hours after giving her time to pack. I was quite chuffed by the knowledge that he'd suffered long years with that harridan.'

‘Just two,' said Tom harshly.

She flicked a glance at him. ‘Pity!'

‘So you returned during your lunchtime break in the jousting, in the expectation of finding Keane there alone?' suggested Max.

‘I saw a taxi bring him back just before thirteen hundred, gave it ten minutes, then knocked. He came to the door in a towelling robe and I gave out the same tale about reporting to
HQ
; waffled about not knowing why he'd been summoned. He looked irritated, but he accepted the lie and offered me a cold beer while I waited for him to dress. I declined, and he took up an open can he must have been drinking from when I arrived, and headed for the stairs.'

BOOK: Indian Summer
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