Free Blue Murder by Cath Staincliffe Page B

Gibson?’
    ‘Shock?’ he suggested.
    Janine pulled a face. She looked at the boards again where Lesley Tulley’s picture was up beside that of her husband. The picture had appeared in the morning papers, Lesley leaving the house for the mortuary, her face bleak and blank.
    ‘Husband’s been killed. We ask her if anyone had a grudge – I mean you’d mention it in passing wouldn’t you?’ She took a swig of her drink. ‘Post mortem?’
    Richard held the report. The salient points had already been written up on the boards.
    He summarised them for the team. ‘Death due to a massive haemorrhage from the wound to the abdomen. Defensive cut on the right arm. Time of death between nine, last sighting, and eleven, when he was found. Also the victim’s fingers were clean, no compost or plant material under the nails.’
    Janine looked at the team. ‘Suggesting?’ she prompted them.
    ‘Not much of a fight,’ Shap said.
    ‘He’d not done much gardening,’ put in Chen.
    Janine nodded. ‘He died sooner rather than later.’
    Richard turned the pages of the document. ‘Dr Balloran concludes that the weapon was a sharp knife with a slightly curved blade. All-purpose type used by fishermen, gardeners … murderers.’
    ‘All right,’ Janine warned him.
    ‘Five inch blade. The attacker was right-handed. Victim in good health, report refers to a recent scar on upper chest.’
    ‘Ferdie Gibson carving his initials,’ said Janine. ‘Miss Grassmere?’
    Rachel Grassmere flicked on the overhead projector. Richard turned off the lights. ‘Dabs still being processed,’ the forensic specialist announced, ‘but we’ve got a decent one on the tap. The trainer print, here by the water butt.’ The screen displayed an enhanced version of the muddy print Janine had struggled to make out. ‘Right foot, somewhere between a ten and a twelve from the look of it. Small tear on the outside heel and two puncture marks on the ball of the foot, sort of thing that a drawing pin leaves. It’s a dream. The lab’s getting us make and model.’ She snapped the projector off and the lights in the room came on again.
    ‘Butchers, best eliminate Mr Simon, first on the scene, before we go round checking people’s shoes.’ Janine told him. Butchers nodded glumly.
    Janine stood up brushing crumbs from her clothes. ‘Ferdie might be the break we’re looking for but we don’t know that yet. As ever we have to look closely at next of kin.’
    ‘Mrs Tulley a suspect, boss?’ Shap asked.
    ‘Let’s just say we haven’t been able to rule her out yet. We’ll be seeing her today and trying to establish an alibi. Matthew Tulley’s diaries.’ Janine held up the books. She had spent an hour the previous evening scanning through them. ‘Practically all the entries relate to Tulley’s job. Meetings about Year 7 intake and Year 9 GCSE options, Governors and staff meetings. A few unexplained entries, star and time, but no indication what the appointment was. No leads there at present. So, the rest of you, you know what you’re working on. Back here at five,’ she instructed them, ‘and let’s fill this wall.’
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    ‘We’d like a word with your son, Mrs Gibson, is he in?’ They put away their badges.
    ‘What’s it about?’ Her brow furrowed and she glared at Janine and Richard from the doorway. One arm was wrapped about her waist, the other, elbow propped on it, held the fag close to her mouth.
    ‘It’s in connection with one of our enquiries,’ Richard explained.
    ‘What enquiry?’ she said derisively.
    ‘The murder of Matthew Tulley,’ Janine spoke sharply. ‘Is Ferdinand in?’
    ‘He’s got nowt to do with that. That’s bloody harassment, that is. That man assaulted Ferdie,’ she shook her cigarette at them, ‘and he was given an official warning by the school. Bleeding disgrace, deputy head and he’s lamming into kids.’
    ‘And then Ferdie knifed him,’ Janine pointed out.
    ‘You can’t