Gregory's Game, page 15
‘But you are certain of what you saw?’
He nodded awkwardly. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. Someone shot those dogs. But look, I don’t want to get involved in any of this. I’ve got a job I like and I want to keep it, right?’
Right, Jaz agreed. She left shortly after, Toby obviously now very uncomfortable with his revelations and regretting them. She hoped she wouldn’t have to get him to repeat the story at any time; she had the sneaking suspicion he’d deny it all.
THIRTY-SIX
The evening briefing was in some ways depressing. There had still been no contact from the kidnappers of Katherine Marsh and her daughter. No real progress had been made; house-to-house enquiries had thrown up no reports of strangers in the street or unusual activity and it was, as someone commented, the sort of street where strangers stood out like a sore thumb and a lot of the residents, either older people or young parents, were around for much of the day.
The fact that Katherine’s car had been shot at raised a shocked murmur among the team but wasn’t immediately helpful. Jaz and Susan’s digging led to speculation and debate, but everyone agreed it was hard to see how it all fitted together.
Jaz reported back on her conversation with Toby, the fire officer.
‘Can you get him in to make a statement?’ Branch asked.
‘I can get him in,’ Jaz said. ‘But he’s obviously been told to keep schtum and he’ll now have had time to regret talking to me.’
Branch nodded. ‘Well, if it becomes relevant, we’ll bring some pressure to bear.’
‘There is one other thing,’ Jaz said, feeling somewhat deflated. ‘I mean, it’s not a lead, exactly, but it might be a source of information. We had all the Gilligan and Hayes stuff sent over. Officially, the investigation is still open, but there’s been nothing new really since day one. But there’s an ex police officer involved. A local guy.’
‘Oh? Who, and how involved?’ Branch asked.
‘His name is Alec Friedman, was a DI. He quit a few months ago, but he was used as a consultant on the Gilligan and Hayes thing. Apparently his aunt was involved in some way – though I can’t tell you how because some of the details are missing.’
‘Missing? I thought you sent for all the case notes.’
‘I did. Some of it has been, what do you call it, redacted.’ She held up the sheets she had printed off to show him. ‘Look, bits are blacked out. I phoned through to find out why, but was just told it came from above – and I don’t think they meant God. Anyway, I spoke to a DI Barnes, who was involved in the Gilligan and Hayes thing. He couldn’t tell me much, but did suggest I speak to this Alec Friedman.’
‘Alec?’ Tess said. ‘I don’t see …’
‘You know him?’
‘Yes. I used to know him well.’
‘Then you should be the one to talk to him, I think,’ Branch said.
Tess nodded.
‘Did DI Barnes say who authorized his involvement?’ Branch asked.
Jaz grinned. ‘Oh, that would have been God as well,’ she said. ‘Barnes said Mr Friedman was far from happy. He wanted to stay retired. There was something else he said too, or sort of said. I asked him if he’d heard of Gustav Clay and he just laughed, then he said we should ask Alec about his car accident.’
‘He didn’t elaborate?’
‘No, he was out at a scene so I only talked to him for a few minutes, but I don’t think he was happy even to do that.’
Branch frowned and nodded. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Well, keep on digging and maybe try to persuade DI Barnes to come over and have a chat. Now, media management. What’s happening on scene?’
The meeting broke up soon after that. Tess caught up with Jaz as they were both leaving. ‘This Barnes, did he say anything more about Alec? Is his name in the case notes?’
‘Not that I could see, and no, like I said, he was busy on scene. He could only spare me a couple of minutes.’
‘Or only wanted to.’
Jaz shrugged. ‘Maybe. Isn’t Alec Friedman that friend of yours who came into the office the other day?’
‘He was,’ Tess said, wondering now if it had been such a random coincidence as Alec had made out.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Kat’s mobile phone vibrated in Ian’s pocket. He took it out and stared at the screen. He pressed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. ‘Hello. Kat?’
‘Katherine can’t come to the phone right now.’
Ian’s legs turned to jelly. He dropped down into the chair, his heart thumping in his chest and his mouth suddenly dry.
‘I want to speak to my wife.’
‘Sorry, can’t be done.’
‘Why are you doing this? You promised me they’d be kept safe.’
‘And so they have been. So far.’
‘No. You lied. You said you’d get Kat and the baby out and I’d be joining them. You said—’
‘And I kept my word. Pity you didn’t do the same. Ian, you have only yourself to blame for what has happened to your wife and child. We had a deal; you reneged on that deal.’
‘No. I didn’t have what you wanted. I couldn’t get what you wanted. I thought I’d be able to, but—’
‘And that’s my problem? How? A deal is a deal. You became greedy, Professor Marsh. You’d got yourself a glimpse of something and you wanted more.’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ Ian shouted desperately. ‘I couldn’t … Look, give me a chance. A few more days, that’s all I need. You can give me that.’
‘Can I, Professor? Look at it from my angle. You gave me guarantees; I in turn gave others guarantees. You don’t keep your end of the bargain, then neither can I, and that makes me look bad. I have a reputation, Ian. You’re spoiling that for me.’
‘A few more days,’ Ian begged. ‘I just need a few more days.’
There was a moment or two of silence as the other man considered the option and Ian allowed himself to hope. ‘Forty-eight hours, Professor. Fail me and I’ll have to get what compensation I can in other ways.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ian asked, but he thought he knew. He couldn’t bear to know.
‘Forty-eight hours. No more.’
The phone went dead. Ian knew it would do him no good to try and call the number back, but he tried it anyway, desperately searching through the menu for the number of the last call, finding it unknown. In a fit of sheer frustration, he hurled the phone across the room and then hurled himself after it. What if he’d broken it? What if he’d smashed this last link to his wife and child? What if …?
The phone in its bright pink case had hit the arm of the chair and fallen to the floor. To his profound relief, it was unharmed. Ian stared at the screen, willing it to ring again, knowing that it would not. Eventually, he put it back into his pocket and just sat, his back to the wall, his head full of terrible thoughts. He knew he had killed them, Kat and little Daisy, just as directly as if he’d plunged a knife into their hearts and twisted it and, oddly, finally acknowledging that filled him with a new resolve. There was nothing he could do for them now, so he had to move on, put all thoughts of guilt and pain aside.
The priority now was simply to save himself.
THIRTY-EIGHT
On the Friday morning Tess arrived at Naomi and Alec’s flat just as they were leaving for their morning walk.
‘I can go on my own,’ Naomi said.
‘No. No, I don’t think so. If you want to talk to me, Tess, you can tag along.’
Naomi could hear the irritation in his voice, the upset still hanging on from his visit to see his old colleague earlier in the week. Naomi understood; she doubted Tess would.
‘Okay,’ Tess said slowly. ‘Well, I don’t mind tagging along. I’ve just got a few questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.’
Beside her, Naomi felt Alec shrug. ‘Ask away,’ he said.
Tess waited until they had reached the promenade before beginning. Naomi paused, expecting Alec to take up his usual position on the sea wall, but much to her surprise, he came down with her to the sea’s edge and Tess had no option but to follow.
‘We’ve been talking to a DI Barnes,’ she said.
‘Nice for you,’ Alec returned. ‘He’s a pleasant man.’
‘You were involved in that Gilligan and Hayes thing a couple of months back, apparently.’
‘Indirectly. Why?’
‘Because what happened then might impact on this current kidnapping. And the murder.’
Alec shrugged. ‘Well I’m sure Barnes will help in any way he can. I’ve resigned, you know.’
‘But it makes me wonder, Alec. When you came to see me the other day, you were very interested in the murder of Anthony Palmer. Why was that? Was it really a coincidence, you suddenly turning up like that?’
Alec laughed shortly. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘Because the last thing you were involved in, and this, it seems they are all hooked up together somehow and—’
‘And when I came to visit you the other day it was genuinely just a wish to see an old friend. No one knew of the supposed connection then, did they? And I wasn’t involved. My aunt was, again, indirectly …’
‘That would be Molly Chambers. The old lady who had some killer blow his brains out on her landing.’
‘Molly does have that effect on some people,’ Naomi said. She knew she shouldn’t have but it was just too much to resist.
‘Molly Chambers, yes,’ Alec said. ‘She became involved because on the site where Gilligan and Hayes died in the back of that van, she happened to have some of her stuff in storage and there was a suspicion that her locker had been tampered with. Molly isn’t the easiest of people to handle. I liaised, you might say.’
‘Liaised. Right. So maybe you can tell me why, when we sent for the file, half of it had been, shall we say, removed.’
‘I resigned,’ Alec said again. ‘Tess, I’m out now. I can’t tell you any more.’
‘Not even about the car crash you were both involved in?’
‘What about it?’
‘An accident? Really?’
‘My brakes failed. We were on the crest of a rather nasty hill. The weather was bad. I did all the right things, took my foot off the accelerator, went down through the gears and was about to switch off the ignition when my dear aunt Molly got impatient and pulled the hand brake on. Had she waited a few seconds more, I’m sure it would all have been fine; as it was we skidded off the road and rolled three or so times down the hill.’
Alec’s voice was very controlled, but Naomi could feel him shaking; he still found it so hard to talk about those last few moments before the crash. In truth, he didn’t recall a lot about it, but Molly did and Molly had spared him no detail.
‘We survived,’ Alec said. ‘There’s not a lot more to tell.’
A beat of silence and then Tess tried another tack. ‘What do you know about a man called Gustav Clay?’
‘Career diplomat, friend of Molly’s and her husband. Died a couple of months ago. Why?’
‘In a gas explosion. At his house,’ Tess pursued.
Alec hesitated for a moment too long. That wasn’t what happened, Naomi thought. Tess would notice his hesitation.
‘Presumably,’ Alec said,
‘Alec, what are you not telling me?’
‘Tess, I’m telling you this is nothing to do with me.’
‘I spoke to one of the first responders. He told me Clay’s dogs had been shot and the house rigged with explosives. He was also told not to talk about it, that the official line was that this was a gas explosion.’
‘I wasn’t there, Tess. How the hell would I know?’
‘And what about Nathan Crow, or Annie Raven?’
‘Annie Raven is a photographer. I don’t know Nathan Crow.’
‘But you know the name?’
Alec sighed. ‘Tess, no. No I don’t. My only connection to any of this is an aunt and she’s not even a real aunt.’
‘So maybe I should go and talk to her?’
Naomi laughed. ‘That, I’d like to see,’ she said.
‘What Naomi means is that Aunt Molly is a tough nut to crack. She’ll talk to you if she wants to. If not, you don’t have a cat in hell’s chance of getting anything out of her. Anyway, you can’t – she’s not here. She’s done the sensible thing and flown south for the winter.’
‘Where?’
‘Tess, I don’t know. She sent us a postcard from Seville a week or so ago. Where she’s gone from there is anyone’s guess. She’s an independent old bird and she’s got the money and the wherewithal to go where the hell she likes and probably will.’
‘But she must have told you …’
‘Why? The only person she ever consulted in her entire life was Edward. Now Edward’s gone, I don’t think she consults anyone but herself.’
Tess seemed about to argue, then changed her mind. ‘Well, I’ll have to go and see this DI Barnes, then.’
‘You can talk to him; doesn’t mean he’ll be able to add anything,’ Alec said. ‘Tess, I’m not being obstructive or awkward, I’m just telling you this: if all this does link back to the likes of Gustav Clay, then it goes well above your pay grade.’
Tess spent a few more minutes trying to extract other details. Then she left, storming off up the beach. Naomi could hear the crunch of her boots on the pebbles as she made her departure; the frustration in each step.
‘Well, I don’t think that did much for your future friendship,’ she said.
‘You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.’
‘I’m not. I didn’t mean to. Look, she upset you; I’m allowed to be pissed off with her for that.’
Alec took her hand. ‘What do you make of all this?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. I think we should just keep our heads down and hope the storm misses us this time. Alec, what do you make of all this? Is it connected?’
‘Probably. But you’re right. We’re best keeping to the sidelines. I’m curious, though.’
Naomi laughed. ‘Of course you are. So what do you want to do about it that isn’t really doing anything?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me Gregory came to call?’
‘How did …?’ She withdrew her hand from his, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘I’d have told you; you just didn’t seem in the mood to want to know, that’s all.’
‘George Mallard gave me a call, said he saw someone hanging about when he dropped you off. People are protective of you, Nomi.’
It was a long time since he had used the diminutive of her name. ‘George had no right to be checking up on me.’
‘No, probably not, but his heart is in the right place. People care about you and when people care, they don’t always do the diplomatic thing. So, what did he want?’
‘To see if Tess Fuller had told you anything. He and Nathan are trying to get the wife and kid back; Gregory reckons the police don’t know what they’re getting into.’
‘And he’s probably right.’
‘So he wanted me to keep my ears open in case Tess told you something and you told me.’
‘I think that’s unlikely now,’ Alec said.
‘We know she’s made some links, maybe we should tell Gregory that. I don’t know. Chances are there’ll be nothing else. She’s really got the arse with you.’
She felt Alec shake his head. ‘Tess will be back,’ he said. ‘Tess is tenacious and she can’t bear to think anyone is keeping things from her. She is terminally nosy.’
‘I hope not,’ Naomi said. ‘I may not actually like the woman, but from what I’ve seen this year, terminal nosiness can be a real deal.’
THIRTY-NINE
Bernard Franks was not a man to cross. Despite knowing that, Nathan had managed to cross him on numerous occasions and had done so with impunity. Until recently, he’d been protected; no one touched one of Gustav Clay’s people. Now though, Nathan realized he was walking into the lion’s den and not even armed with a whip and chair.
‘I should go with you,’ Gregory said.
‘You should wait in the car. You and Franks are like matches and petrol fumes. I can do without the pair of you upping the ante.’
Gregory shrugged. ‘He tried to have me killed.’
‘Of course he did. That’s what he does. Not that you’re one to talk.’
‘There’s a difference,’ Gregory objected. ‘I don’t subcontract.’
‘And that makes you morally superior?’
‘In the eyes of some people.’
Nathan looked closely at Gregory, trying to decide whether or not he was joking. He decided, on balance, that he probably wasn’t. The older man had some odd sensitivities.
‘If I’m not out in ten minutes, come and fetch me,’ he said.
‘A lot can happen in ten minutes. Make it five.’
‘Gregory, a bullet takes a second.’
‘He won’t shoot you,’ Gregory said. ‘He rarely shoots people.’ He leaned forward and fiddled with the radio, looking for something classical, Nathan guessed.
Nathan got out and headed into the pub that was Bernie Franks’ domain. This, he thought, could be a really bad idea.
At the bar, he ordered a pint though Nathan actually rarely drank beer. He stood, sipping at it, knowing that his presence had been noted and Bernie Franks would either deal with him in person or send a message with someone who would. The mirrors behind the bar gave him a view of most of the pub lounge. Last time he’d been in here it had been a real spit and sawdust place, but Franks seemed to have attempted gentrification. There was carpet on the floor and the pool table that used to stand slap-bang in the middle of the room had been moved to an adjoining space. A board behind the bar even advertised food and guest beers. But there had been no gentrification of Bernie Franks.
‘Business must be good,’ Nathan said as the shadow blocked the light from the window and Franks loomed into his mirrored view.
‘That’s because I’m particular about my clientele.’
