Murder in the Caribbean. Robert Thorogood
‘Do you recall hearing the sound of glass smashing at all today?’
Natasha rose from her chair.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘If you could just answer the question.’
Natasha looked to Camille for support, and she nodded kindly, which seemed to give her strength.
‘Okay. Well, no, I didn’t hear any glass smashing today.’
‘Thank you. And have you been in the house all day?’
‘I’ve been cross-stitching a kneeler for the church.’ As Natasha said this, she indicated some brightly coloured threads that were piled on an occasional table nearby.
‘I see. You’re involved in the local church?’
‘Of course. Aren’t you?’
Richard didn’t quite know how to reply, if only because he always felt a touch bashful that religion had never quite ‘taken’ for him. As he tried to think of a suitable reply, Camille stepped in.
‘And what church do you belong to?’
‘Father Luc Durant’s. He’s such an impressive priest. Don’t you think?’
Richard had no idea who Father Luc was, but he recognised that he was in danger of losing control of the interview entirely.
‘Then can I ask,’ he said, ‘if you didn’t hear any glass smashing, and you were here all morning, what time did you leave?’
‘How do you mean?’ Natasha asked.
‘Well, we first met you at the harbour. So when did you leave your house for the harbour?’
Natasha frowned as she considered her answer.
‘That’s easy enough to explain. I left when . . . you know, I heard the . . . the boat . . .’
‘You heard the explosion?’
‘Not that I knew what it was. It was just this terrible noise.’
‘What time was this?’
‘It was just after eleven, I think. I was listening to the news on the radio.’
‘And then what did you do?’ he asked.
‘Well, I got on with cross-stitching. I didn’t think it had anything to do with me. But about five minutes later, Morgane Pichou came and knocked on my door. You know Morgane? She runs the tourist centre in Honoré. Anyway, she said she’d been down at the harbour when the explosion happened, and she’d heard that it was Conrad’s boat that had just . . . well, that it had just happened to. I didn’t know what to think. And then my phone rang. It was the harbour master, Philippe. He said I should come down to the harbour at once. There’d been an accident. I still didn’t believe it could be true – I still don’t believe it . . .’
‘So what time did you get down to the harbour?’ Richard asked, aware that Natasha was about to start crying again.
‘I don’t know. Twenty past. Something like that.’
‘And just to be clear, you were definitely in the house the whole morning before the explosion?’
‘Yes.’
Richard paused to collect his thoughts, because this meant that if Natasha could be believed, the break-in must have happened after she’d left her house following the explosion. After all, if it had happened at any time before, she’d surely have heard the glass smashing. But what sort of person would break in to Conrad’s house after his boat had just exploded? Were the two facts connected, or was it just a coincidence?
‘Mrs Gardiner, could you follow me?’ Richard asked, before leading Natasha and Camille into the corridor where Conrad’s room was. As he pushed the door open, Natasha gave a little gasp and her hand shot to her mouth.
‘Is this a surprise to you?’
‘Of course,’ Natasha said, deeply shocked. ‘I mean, Conrad’s not the tidiest person, but he’s not this bad. Everything’s been thrown onto the floor. Hasn’t it? And the window’s been smashed.’
‘I think it was smashed with that piece of concrete there,’ Richard said, indicating the chunk in the middle of the room. ‘Which is why I was asking if you’d heard the sound of any glass smashing today. I think it would have made a considerable noise when that rock came in through the window.’
‘Of course. I didn’t hear any smashing this morning.’
‘Can you see if anything’s been stolen?’
Natasha scanned the room from the doorway.
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t say Conrad had anything worth stealing.’
‘Then can you tell me if this belongs to him?’ Richard said, entering the room and going over to the table where the bright red ruby was sitting.
‘What is it?’
‘It looks like a ruby.’
Natasha’s expression of concern briefly froze, and Camille and Richard exchanged a glance – both knowing that the ruby had just registered with her.
‘A what?’ Natasha asked.
‘A ruby,’ he replied.
Natasha didn’t speak for a few moments.
‘Does it mean anything to you?’ Camille asked as kindly as she could.
Natasha seemed to come to a decision.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘But you’re saying it’s a real ruby?’
‘I don’t know,’ Richard said. ‘I doubt it. It would be worth millions.’
‘Then I’ve no idea how that got there,’ Natasha said with finality.
‘Do you think it belongs to your husband?’ Camille asked.
‘Oh no. Where would he get something like that from?’
Richard bent down to give the jewel a good inspection. It lay on its side and was cut so that it was fat at one end but sharpened to a point at the other. Richard could see tiny air bubbles trapped inside, making it clear that it really was just a trinket made of plastic.
‘So you’re saying this jewel doesn’t belong to your husband, and doesn’t belong to you, either?’
‘That’s it exactly,’ Natasha said, happy with Richard’s assessment. ‘I’ve never seen it before in my life.’
‘Then I wonder who put it there?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Don’t you? Only you seemed to recognise it.’
‘I didn’t,’ Natasha said, and Richard could see how sincere she was. ‘I was just surprised. I couldn’t work out what it was doing there.’
‘Which is very much the question, isn’t it? Can you imagine why anyone might have wanted to smash that window there, break in to your house, and then place a paste red ruby on this desk here?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Oh yes. I’ve no idea what it can possibly mean.’
Natasha seemed to have got control of whatever doubts she’d previously had, and Richard could see that he wouldn’t be getting any more from her for the moment.
‘Okay, we’ll have to treat this room as a secondary crime scene, so we’ll need to have our officers process it. And we’ll need to take your fingerprints as well, Mrs Gardiner. Just so we can exclude them from whatever we find in this room, of course. And can I ask where