The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery), J. Ellis [free ebook novel TXT] 📗

well. We now know that he was killed immediately after Barnes. Also he’d acquired a gun. You cleverly placed the gun holster in his room at the flat but no one had any recollection of seeing Holgate with a gun before, or a knife for that matter. But again: there were the text messages, his body in the harbour and that he’d been seen firing a gun. The obvious explanation for his behaviour after he’d killed Andrea was that the guilt had sent him mad. The whole thing was apparently clear.’

Morton fidgeted restlessly and scowled as these flaws in his plans were exposed by Oldroyd. He wasn’t so impressed with the detective now.

‘Our investigations in London had not revealed very much but when we discovered Hugh Preston’s body, I was pretty sure the whole story we were meant to believe was bogus,’ continued Oldroyd.

‘That was just luck,’ blurted Morton. ‘It was those damned kids. I wish I could—’

‘Maybe,’ continued Oldroyd, interrupting. ‘But I couldn’t imagine that Holgate had got the information about the sarcophagus from Preston and then murdered him. We still had no firm leads on anyone else. The missing painting had somehow resonated with me from the beginning but I had nothing more to go on. It was Louise who found out more from Mrs Adams about the painting and then she found out from her friend that you had been to the flat. She knew you were a person with a knowledge of art who might recognise the painting and how valuable it was.’

Oldroyd paused before he went on. ‘You were fortunate that she didn’t tell us anything at that point because she was trying to protect you.’ He stopped and swallowed. He was finding this difficult. Granger looked at him but let him continue for the moment. ‘She was fond of you and it blinded her to having any idea of what you were really like. The worst she thought was that you had stolen the painting after Andrea’s death and she was right. But she’d no idea that you had orchestrated the whole thing.’

‘I knew she liked me,’ said Morton casually. ‘And I liked her, but I had much more important things on my mind. I played up my attraction to her because I knew she was less likely to suspect me if she felt there was something developing between us but she turned out to be a nuisance. She wouldn’t accept what I wanted everybody to believe and she encouraged you to doubt it. When she texted me to say she wanted to talk to me about the missing picture, I knew I had to silence her for good.’

Oldroyd looked away from Morton and struggled again for self-control. He indicated to Granger that she should continue.

‘What were you planning to do?’ Granger said.

Morton shrugged again. ‘I didn’t have time to plan in any detail. I was pretty sure that she wouldn’t have told anybody else we were meeting so I could kill her at the flat, put her body in the back of her car and drive off. I would dispose of the body and abandon the car. There would be nothing to link me to what had happened. The assumption would be that she’d been abducted and murdered by some random killer.’

Oldroyd got up and lurched out of the room.

Granger cast him a worried glance as he left, but continued with her questioning of Morton. ‘You must have known that it was unlikely you would get away with that,’ she said.

‘Maybe, but things were looking desperate. She could have unravelled the whole plan. I had to do something and quickly. I didn’t know that sergeant was monitoring things.’

Granger gave him a searching look. ‘Did you have no feelings for any of these people who were your friends?’

A strange expression came onto Morton’s face. ‘I did. I was sorry I had to do it, but it was necessary for my art. I had to have the space to develop my art so it could be acknowledged.’ His eyes had a faraway look. ‘There is a genius in me; I can feel it and I can’t ignore it. It must be fulfilled. This opportunity came and it would have been a crime not to have taken it. Have you read Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky?’

‘Yes,’ said Granger.

‘Raskolnikov, the poor student, murders an old woman to get her money because he thinks his need justifies it. I felt the same. These people would all have died for a good cause if . . .’ His voice trailed off and he shrugged again. His dream was dead.

Granger said nothing. She continued to gaze into Morton’s face as if looking for further answers but there were none. Mystified, she shook her head.

Oldroyd came back into the room and sat down.

‘I think we’re done here,’ said Granger.

Oldroyd studied Morton for the last time. ‘Would you have been able to sell that picture in the end?’ he asked at last.

‘It would have been hard, but I would have made the sacrifice.’

Oldroyd took a deep breath and then signalled to the officer. ‘Take him out.’

‘Well, sir,’ said Granger, grinning as she met with Oldroyd in her office for the last time. ‘I see you haven’t lost your touch. We lesser mortals can only look on in awe.’

‘Oh, don’t exaggerate. I was very late getting there on this one and it nearly cost me, well . . .’ He frowned and shook his head, remembering how close Morton had come to killing Louise. ‘And don’t be too hard on yourself for going with the evidence. It was a very skilful plot and had me taken in too for a while. In fact, I think I would have bought it too if it hadn’t been for Louise being so insistent that she felt something was not right. She pushed us on to crack it, but she nearly paid with her life.’

It was a sombre thought and one of many ironies of the case.

‘Try not to dwell