A Genuine Mistake Ted Tayler (e ink epub reader .TXT) 📖

lighting system. The sunroom, games room, and Mum’s studio had sound-proofing. Dad wanted everyone to have quiet when they were working or relaxing.”

“You were certain that your Dad was dead?” asked Blessing.

“The wound to his head,” said Sean. “It was awful.”

“What did Rachel say to you?”

“She told me to call 999.”

“Why did you ask for an ambulance as well as the police if you were sure he was dead?”

“Rachel told me to call them.”

“How long was it before they arrived at the house?”

“The paramedics were there first, ten minutes later. Then the police car drove through the gateway. Another six or seven minutes, perhaps.”

“Did you and Byron stand in the doorway all that time? Except for when you used the landline to call the emergency services.”

“No. A uniformed officer took us inside. She sat with us in the lounge.”

“I’m sorry we made you go through that ordeal again,” said Gus. “I know it was the millionth time you’ve done it. Was there anything different on this occasion?”

Sean shook his head.

“An unusual evening,” said Gus. “Not the same routine that you followed on other Sundays. Yet surely, several things stayed the same? The three of you were in the games room. Byron was playing you off the table, and Dad was refereeing. I’ve seen the crime scene photographs. Where were the white gloves?”

“Was he wearing them when he left the games room?” asked Blessing.

“Yes,” said Sean, “now you mention it. Yes, he was. It was second nature by that time. He must have forgotten he was wearing them.”

“We’ll check with Rachel,” said Gus. “Maybe your Dad took them off.”

“If he’d stuffed them in his pocket, guv,” said Blessing. “The police would have found them later. They would have listed the gloves among his belongings.”

“True. Rachel might have found them near the porch,” said Gus. “Perhaps, Gerry discarded them somewhere while he spoke to the visitor, intending to pick them up on his way indoors.”

“Byron might remember something that I don’t,” said Sean. “With the shock of seeing Dad that way, I might not have noticed the gloves were missing before I made the phone call. Until you asked just now, I hadn’t given them a thought.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr Hogan,” said Gus. “We’ll let you get on with your day. You’ve been most helpful. The white gloves could be the first fresh lead we’ve found since we started.”

“I’m not sure how the gloves could lead you to Dad’s killer, Mr Freeman,” said Sean.

“Nor do I,” said Gus, “but for some reason, I feel more positive than I did before we spoke with you.”

“When is Byron due back in this country?” asked Blessing.

“If he keeps winning matches, he’ll play in the final on Sunday and fly back to Bristol on Monday. I can give him a ring and say that you want to talk to him at the house on Monday evening. Is that okay?”

“We’ll put the date in our diary,” said Blessing. “What if he loses before then?”

Sean grinned.

“He’ll fly back at the weekend, but he won’t want to chat. He’s not used to losing.”

“If our other enquiries push us in a different direction, we may need to reschedule anyway,” said Gus. “Will Byron fly out for another tournament later next week?”

“I think they’re off to China at the weekend.”

Gus and Blessing left the office and met the ever-smiling Emma in the reception area.

“Thank you for visiting Hogan Finance. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Gus wasn’t interested in financial affairs. He was interested in a pair of white gloves.

  CHAPTER 11

 

“That was a surprise, guv,” said Blessing.

“Back to the car, Blessing,” said Gus. “The game’s afoot. Those gloves are the first thing that has differed from the first investigation. Kirkpatrick didn’t find them. We’ll check with Rachel Cummins.”

“If Rachel didn’t rescue them from the porch, then where could they have gone?” asked Blessing. She had to hurry to keep up with her boss. He was on a mission.

“Rachel wouldn’t have removed them from Gerry’s hands, surely, guv?”

“If she was traumatised by what she found outside the door? Who knows what either of us would do in those circumstances?”

“I reckon the killer took them,” said Blessing. “He needed to ditch the gun. He used the gloves to wipe the weapon clean of fingerprints.”

“That’s a possibility,” said Gus. “Rachel would spot their visitor was already wearing gloves. It was a pleasantly warm evening in early May.”

They reached the station car park. Gus sat inside the Focus and waited for Blessing to get comfortable.

He drove out of Bradford-on-Avon and headed for the office.

“A helmet, gloves, and leathers are de rigueur for a moped let alone a proper motorcycle,” said Gus. “Our witness said it sounded like an angry wasp. It always seemed that any bike the neighbour heard was something a kid rode, not an adult male. I’m more convinced than ever that it’s irrelevant.”

“The man was casually dressed, guv, not in motorcycle gear,” said Blessing. “If he intended to confront Gerry Hogan and shoot him, he would want to be in and out of that driveway in seconds. He must have arrived at the house by another means.”

“How far was it to walk to the house from the nearest bus stop?” asked Gus, “Buses do run out to Trowle Common. Could he have walked to the house, shot Gerry, and then taken the gloves with him?”

“It would have been simple enough to pull the gloves from Gerry’s hands,” said Blessing. “Then run away, clean the gun, drop it into a drain, and make his way back to Trowbridge or on to Bradford-on-Avon. He could have dropped the white gloves in the first waste bin he saw.”

“It’s a theory, Blessing,”