The Electrician's Code Read online

“Um,” Theo started, sitting forward. He didn’t think he would be here long enough for a cup of tea, but after the long drive, he felt like one. “That sounds—”

  “Yes,” interrupted Diane, “bring us tea.” She waved the housekeeper away.

  “So, you’ve come to tell me Doc has died,” she continued as if she were telling the officers she had bought a car or that she had discovered a new flavor of coffee.

  “Has someone contacted you?” asked Dorland.

  She shrugged. “Why else would you be here to talk about my brother? How did he die?”

  “Someone stabbed him,” Dorland replied.

  “I see.” She blinked. After staring at them for a while, she asked, “Well, who did it?”

  “We don’t have any idea,” Dorland said.

  “We were hoping,” said Theo, “you had information that could help us. Can you think of anyone who might have a motive?”

  “A motive?” She sat back against the sofa and put her fist to her mouth. “A motive?”

  “Yes, a reason why someone might want to kill him.”

  “Yes, I do know what it means, officer. It’s a difficult question to answer. You see, I haven’t seen him in ages, and the last time I saw him, I wanted to kill him.”

  “Oh?” said Theo. “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Oh, at least ten years ago. I know it sounds shocking that I would want to kill my brother, but you see, he was such an . . . unusual person. I come from a family of seven children and he was the youngest. In this day and age, the youngest is often spoiled; however, in our household, that didn’t happen. Poor Doc. I suppose I can understand why he was the way he was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mother really shouldn’t have had any children—she epitomized the word selfish, you see—but, she somehow ended up with seven. The first six turned out well because we were all girls and took care of each other. However, gin and tonic became her best friend by the time Doc, her first boy, came along, and she couldn’t feign caring any more. In short order, he became the property of various young nannies.”

  “Why did you want to kill him?”

  “Well, I don’t think I really would have killed him, not really. Typical brother and sister angst: we would pull down his trousers and knock him round a bit. In return, he would pull our hair or tattle on us. Silly things really. We gave him a difficult time but eventually he got us all back. We’d find our favorite frocks shredded and hanging from the trees in the garden. Or he’d put coloring in our hand cream. I told him I’d kill him if I ever saw him again because he put itching powder on all my clothes before I had an important business trip to Europe—I had an important interview. I ended up getting the job, but I was so angry. I moved to Spain shortly after and . . .” She shook her head. “We weren’t really close.”

  “What about your other sisters? Were any of them close?”

  “I don’t think so. Patty married a Canadian and moved to Canada, Carolyn’s in Italy with her husband. My sisters Beatrice and Yvonne live in London, but as far as I know, they don’t have contact with him. And my sister Roberta, she died, ten years back now. Sadly, if anyone knew him, it would be the nannies. He always felt closer to staff than to his family.”

  “Do you think he still has contact with them?”

  “The staff? No. I don’t remember the name of any of my nannies. And if I did, it would be only their first names. I don’t know where my mother found them. They weren’t much older than we were. Anyway, Doc moved out of the house and down to London when he was seventeen. I think my father kicked him out of the house.”

  “Why was that?”

  “Possibly because my father expected Doc to take over the family’s steel business. He chose instead to get into trade—an electrician or something like that. It was inevitable though, Doc was determined to become the opposite of whatever my father wanted him to become.”

  “Where’s the doctor?” Henry called out. “I will not see the doctor.”

  Diane turned to him and yelled, “Dad, the police have come to tell me Maddock is dead.”

  Henry didn’t reply.

  “Did you know your brother was missing a leg?” asked Theo.

  “Yes, I knew.”

  “Do you know what happened to it?”

  “It happened at work. He was installing wiring and scaffolding gave way. He only sustained a gash in his leg but then the cut got infected and had to be amputated.”

  “That’s too bad,” replied Theo.

  Diane only shrugged.

  “We found some pieces of art in his home, tiled art. Has he always been an artist?” asked Theo.

  “Artist?” She laughed. “Not that I’m aware of. All anyone in this house expected of Doc was for him to get a good education and take over the family business.”

  “So then, who took over the business when your father stopped working?” Dorland asked. He rose from the sofa and began to peer at the figurines on the mantle place.

  “My cousin Earnest. And he actually took the company to new heights, expanded the business. Now the company is international, we have companies using our steel products in Italy, France, and Norway, and of course China.”

  “And Doc didn’t feel the company should have come to him?”

  “I’m not sure he cared. Honestly, I’m not sure anything really bothered or worried him. He hid his emotions well.” Suddenly, she sat forward. “I have been going through the attic, cleaning it out. There are sixteen rooms in this house and we only occupy two. I was thinking of opening a bed and breakfast. We have some horses and I was thinking of stocking the pond again.”

  She looked at them blankly for a moment before she remembered what she wanted to say. “Anyway, I found some albums. There were some photos of Doc, would you like to see them? Yes, come, come.” She stood up and walked from the room.

  Theo and Dorland quickly chased after her. In the hall, the housekeeper met them with a tray.

  “Take the tea into the library,” Diane instructed her. The housekeeper complied, and Diane led the officers down the hall and into the large dining room. The walls and furniture were a mahogany color and the table sat at least twelve. Dorland stopped by one of the chairs and leaned down to examine a place setting.

  “These are very beautiful. They must be very old,” Dorland remarked. He ran his finger across the face of the plate and then rubbed his fingers together. “And there’s no dust.”

  “This is a very beautiful dining room,” Theo agreed.

  “Yes, my mother loved this room. She once gave grand dinner parties in this room. All us girls couldn’t wait until we were of age and could attend those parties. The dresses we wore.” Diane looked up at the ceiling and pursed her lips together. “Oh yes, those parties.”

  “Did Doc ever attend those parties?”

  She squinted. “I don’t recall. I know as a child he would sneak into the room and hide under the table. Why? No one knows. He would lift up the women’s dresses or tickle their legs and run out of the room. Eventually my mother had to lock him in his room during parties. We don’t eat in here anymore. It’s just my father and I now. Come, I want to show you those albums.”

  The opulent library shelves were filled floor to ceiling with books and priceless antique tomes. Very different from Doc’s drawing room. She motioned them to the Empire chairs that flanked an English Regency table in the center of the room. On the table in front of them lay five cloth-covered albums. She pulled the third album from the pile and slowly flipped through the delicate pages. Theo examined the black and white photographs that covered the black pages beneath.

  “How many years ago were these taken?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m not sure. Ages.” She waved aside the question with her hand and instead, she pointed to a large photo that took up a whole page. “This is one of the six girls. We were visiting the seaside, that was. Those swimsuits, look at them. They don’t make them like that anymore.” She continued
to flip through the pages. “Ah, here is one of Doc. I believe he was four or five, in school uniform there. As soon as Mother could, she shipped him off to boarding school and fired the nannies. Until holidays, that is. He’d be back for holiday, and to make up for his absence, he wreaked havoc throughout the house. One of my sisters stayed away on holidays because she didn’t want to deal with the tension in the house at that time.”

  The housekeeper brought in a tray of tea and laid it on the table. One by one she poured the officers a cup, asking each one about the milk and sugar.

  “This is one of Doc deer stalking. Of course, that day all he brought home was a pheasant. He was really good with deer. I think it was the only thing my father liked about Doc—that he came home with meat. My father eventually bought him a few shotguns and gave him a Land Rover. I don’t know how long Doc had that vehicle but, it’s not here so I assume he kept it.”

  Theo leaned in closer to have a look. Doc stood on the banks of a marsh land, holding a large bird in one hand and a large gun in the other. He stood with an older man. Could it be his father? Theo placed his finger on the man in the photograph.

  “Oh, that’s my uncle, Earnest,” she explained. “Father of my cousin Earnest. Doc really loved my uncle. He worked for the government, you know. I don’t know which branch.”

  “Your brother worked for the government?” asked Dorland.

  “No my uncle. I don’t know much about him but I remember Doc used to look forward to his visits. My uncle could tell stories, some crazy stories. I’m not sure any were true. Doc had a code, or so he says. He would place square children’s blocks in the window before Uncle Earnest would arrive. One time to spite him, I pushed his blocks off the window sill. Doc got so mad he threw a metal ornament at my head.”

  She pointed to a scar on her forehead.

  “I know this doesn’t help with the investigation, but, as much as he drove me insane when he was younger, I always felt he was misunderstood. That he wasn’t given the chance. He never received the love he should have, that he was entitled to. I really do hope you catch whoever murdered him.”

  “We will do our best. Perhaps you can give us the names and numbers of your sisters in London. We would like them to come in and give a formal identification and perhaps they have had contact with Doc, you never know. Also, do you think any of your staff will have remembered Doc? Are any still with you?”

  She shook her head. “Sadly no. We had to let a lot of staff go, so we are down to six. No one has been with us longer than . . .” She counted on four fingers, “twelve years. They wouldn’t know Doc.” She rose. “Now, let me get you those names.”

  She went to a desk in the corner of the library and pulled out a leather book. “We should be closer, my sisters and I, but you know how it is. Eventually you lose contact. They marry, have children, and move on with their lives.”

  Dorland rose from his seat and again started making his way around the room, examining all the books on the shelves and the art on the walls.

  “Is that your mother?” Dorland asked.

  “That is.”

  The portrait of Mrs. Tipring covered a large panel on the wall. She was stunning and vibrant in a white evening gown. A large red flower sat neatly in her hair above her right ear. What a creature she must have been in person.

  “The gown she wore there still hangs in her wardrobe. Doc never tore that one to shreds.”

  A short while later, after finishing tea, the officers were headed back on their long trek to London.

  “So, what do you think?” Theo asked his partner when they had left the house.

  “They’re an odd family. But I suppose the rich are often that way.” Dorland pulled down his visor and checked his teeth. “You’d never suspect from examining his flat that he’d ever come from that family. I wonder if he inherited any money from his parents?”

  “I guess his solicitor will be able to tell us that. However, from the way his father took the news of his son’s death, I don’t think there was any love lost between the two. Do you think his sisters had anything to do with his death?” Theo asked.

  “Why now? The statement from the nurse says that he had no contact with anyone. His sister confirms she never talked to him in years. Why would they kill him now?”

  “Well, it looked like the nannies were the ones who spent time with Doc and they didn’t treat him well either. Could one of the nannies have become his nurse later on in life and have killed him?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “More likely, he would have killed them.”

  “I just don’t see a motive anywhere.” Dorland slammed the visor against the top of the car roof.

  “The only reason I can see is if on his father’s death, money goes to him. Again, we will have to ask the solicitor for that information. Most likely it goes to the cousin. I wonder if he had any contact with Doc?”

  “Tomorrow, first thing, we should visit the solicitor. I hope the rest of our team or forensics have found something.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Five minutes before five, a knock sounded at the door and Sophia rose to answer it. Through the peephole, she saw a tall, blond woman nervously inhaling a cigarette while rocking back and forth on her heels. While almost sure the woman was here to replace her, she couldn’t be certain. What if it was a neighbor? Placing the chain on the door, Sophia opened it a crack.

  “Yes?”

  “Let me in,” the woman replied, pushing on the door. The chain held it in place.

  “Who are you?” Sophia asked, stepping back; the woman reeked of smoke.

  “Who are you?”

  This wasn’t going well.

  “Who sent you?” Sophia asked.

  The woman placed her hands on her hips and replied, “Foxton.”

  “All right.” Sophia closed the door and released the chain. The woman dropped her cigarette on the hall carpet and stomped down on it with the sole of her high heel boot. Then, she helped Sophia open the door again with a stronger than necessary push.

  “What are you doing? Why didn’t you let me in? Sheesh. I shouldn’t have to stand in that rat infested hall.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m new at this.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Well, anyway, I’m Evans, Sophia Evans.” Sophia held out her hand.

  “Carla Rose.” Carla didn’t shake. Instead, she went toward the kitchen.

  Sophia followed her and watched as Carla poured herself a cup of coffee. Out of her handbag, Carla produced a bottle of cough mixture, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.

  She looked at Sophia. “I feel a cold coming on,” she said. Next, she fished around her bag for her pack of fags, pulled a lighter from her draw-string jacket, and lit up another.

  “We can’t open the windows in here.”

  Crystal came into the kitchen.

  “This is Crystal Priestly.”

  Carla ignored her and pushed past them into the living room. Crystal looked at Sophia curiously.

  “What’s with her?” she signed. “Should she be smoking in here?”

  Sophia shrugged.

  “When did we get all this new equipment? This is nice stuff. Look at these monitors, they’re so thin now.” She pressed a few random keys on the keyboard.

  “They belong to us.” Sophia quickly locked her computer. “It’s very new and very expensive. It’ll have to stay here tonight but you won’t be able to access it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” Sophia said slowly and deliberately, “they’re ours and unrelated to the case you’re working on.”

  “Then why are they here?”

  “Ask Foxton.” Sophia started shutting down all her computers. She didn’t think Carla capable of hacking any computer. She wasn’t even sure the woman could operate a computer that wasn’t already turned on. “Will you be working alone?”

  “No. Carlie should be here any minute.” She flicked ash onto the floor.


  “You’re working with a girl named Carlie and your name is Carla?”

  “We’re both Carla but she agreed to be Carlie so it wouldn’t be confusing.”

  “Why didn’t they just put you with someone else?”

  Carla shrugged and blew smoke toward the ceiling. The room was quickly filling with smoke.

  “The smoke alarms will be going off.”

  “Nah,” replied Carla, waving her hands about as if it would improve the situation. “No batteries. I took them out ages ago.”

  A knock at the door sounded again. This time Carla went for it and returned with an Asian woman wearing a track-suit and large cardie. In her hands, she held a file-box.

  “You must be Carlie,” said Sophia. Again holding out her hand. This time the woman moved the box over to one arm and shook. “And this is my partner, Crystal.” Sophia nudged her friend with her elbow and Crystal held out her hand.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Carlie asked.

  “She’s deaf.”

  “So what is she doing here?”

  Sophia was glad Crystal couldn’t hear the remark, as it was, she was upset enough by it. Crystal finished collecting everything that the two of them could possibly carry out. Including the mobile phone she had been working on all afternoon.

  “Everything is ready. Our notes are here,” said Sophia, pointing. With that, Sophia grabbed Crystal’s arm and pulled her from the flat.

  Sophia waved good-bye to Crystal and climbed into Liam’s car, pulled the seat forward, and backed the car out of the car park. She had only been in his car a few times and she was not happy that now Liam had an excuse to see her after work hours. Nor was she impressed with the music stations programmed into his car radio. However, within a few seconds, she almost forgot she wasn’t driving in her comfortable leather seats and made her way through the streets toward home.

  Somehow, however, she found herself in front of Marcus Master’s residence. Or previous residence. A new family—husband, wife, and two small boys—had moved in only three weeks ago. She pulled across the street from the flat and looked in the windows of Marc’s old study. Though the curtains were drawn, Sophia could see the silhouette of a woman walking about in the room. The woman gestured wildly with one arm. Then paused. Then gestured wildly again.