A Surprise for Neptune King, page 14
XI
Neptune found Rachel loitering in the shelter of a doorway. It was nearly four o’clock by the time he reached her. “Hello, Rachel. Anything of interest?”
“I followed him to lunch. He went to the Blue Boar hotel and had a steak and two large vodkas and orange juice for lunch, then he went back to work. He’s been inside ever since. Where’s Shark?”
“Sick. He’s come down with flu-like symptoms. He looked rather terrible. I dropped him off at home. Hopefully he’ll ring Dr. Henderson and have her come out and see him. I’ll take over here now if you would like to head back to the office.”
“All right. Poor Shark. I’ll have to make him some chicken soup and take it over. Maybe he should come stay with us so we can take care of him.”
Neptune smiled. “I was thinking you could ring Rebecca. I’m sure she would relish the opportunity to fuss over Shark.”
“Good idea. I’ll do that as soon as I get back to the office.”
“Close up at the usual time and go home. I may be late tonight. I’m going to stick with Dowsey and see where he goes after work. I may even be able to buddy up to him and get him talking. We searched his house. It’s a filthy pigsty but there was no sign of the letter. I have to assume he’s got it on his person.”
“That or it’s in his office at work.”
“That’s right, Rachel make things even more difficult for us,” he said reproachfully.
Rachel smiled. “That’s my job. I just want to make sure you cover all possibilities.”
Neptune nodded and smiled. He leaned across and gave her a brief kiss. “You may as well take the car. Dowsey came to work on the bus, so I’ll travel the same way with him.”
Seeing he still had nearly an hour before the working day ended for office workers, he decided to get a belated lunch at a nearby cafe. It was warmer there, too. At five o’clock he was back in the doorway keeping watch on United Insurance. Dowsey didn’t appear until five-forty. There was no mistaking him. The mono-brow was very distinctive. He was in the company of two other men. The three of them made their way to the Blue Boar and were soon drinking freely. Neptune ordered himself a drink and a copy of the afternoon edition Times from the bar and sat down at a nearby table. The men were boisterous. It seemed it was the birthday of one of the group. Neptune figured Dowsey didn’t need much excuse to have a drink.
He sat sipping his drink and reading his paper while continuing to keep an eye on them. When they ordered a counter meal, he did the same. It was fortunate Rachel wasn’t expecting him home.
It wasn’t until ten o’clock that the other two men called it a night and staggered from the pub singing happily. Dowsey had two more drinks on his own before leaving. His gait was unsteady, so unsteady that he almost fell flat on his face as he left the pub.
Neptune hurried over and grabbed his arm. “Steady on there, mate,” he said, affecting a Newcastle accent. “Yor gunna hit the deck in a minute.”
Dowsey straightened up and grinned foolishly at Neptune. “Thanks, mate,” he replied. “It’s the cold air, knocks you rotten it does.”
Neptune grinned back at him. “Sure does. Yuh want me to call you a cab?”
Dowsey shook his head. “Nope. The bus.”
“Yeah? I’m headed for it meself.” He escorted Dowsey to the bus stop, preventing him from stepping onto the road in front of oncoming traffic. When the bus came, he boosted him up. Dowsey dropped down into the nearest seat, leaving Neptune to pay for their tickets. He was out to it by the time they reached his stop. Neptune woke him and helped him off the bus.
When they reached his door, Dowsey looked Neptune over. “You’re a good bloke,” he said to Neptune. “Whyn’t you come in for a drink?”
Neptune grinned. “Sure, why not. Can’t hurt to have one for the road.”
It took Dowsey nearly five minutes to fit his key into the keyhole.
Neptune followed thinking what a stroke of luck it was that the man was so drunk. An idea had come to him while they were on the bus and he could hardly wait to put it into operation.
Dowsey led the way to the kitchen. Found two dirty glasses and a half empty bottle of whiskey and poured. He toasted Neptune. “To friends.”
“Friends,” agreed Neptune pretending to drink.
Dowsey swallowed his glassful in one gulp.
Neptune was quick to give him a refill. “Can I use your bathroom?” asked Neptune after ten minutes.
“Go for it,” agreed Dowsey. He didn’t give Neptune any directions and Neptune didn’t ask as he had no intention of using the man’s filthy lavatory. He went into the hall and just waited, peering in through the open doorway occasionally. He watched as Dowsey sat down and poured himself another drink. It only took ten more minutes for the man to fall asleep on the kitchen table.
Neptune smiled and returned to the kitchen. Considering the man had fallen asleep on the bus, he figured the same thing would happen when he sat down again. He now had the ideal opportunity to search Dowsey himself and made the most of it. He went through every pocket, including his trouser pockets. He even helped himself to Dowsey’s wallet and flicked through that as well.
“Blast it,” growled Neptune when he finished. No trace of the letter. It was not in the house and not on him. He wondered if Rachel was right and that he kept it at his office, although that seemed unlikely. It was a personal thing. Would you keep something so personal at work where anyone could see it?
He stood looking the sleeping drunk over. Somehow he didn’t seem capable of blackmail. A man so prone to drink didn’t seem capable of plotting something as daring as blackmail. That required cool nerve and resolve. True, he held down a job in the daytime, but Neptune wondered just how capable he was at that job. Considering the amount he drank and the state of his house, it would only be a matter of time before it affected his work—if it wasn’t already. It was highly probable that Dowsey stole the letter from Thwaites. The trail led to him clearly enough, however Neptune was starting to wonder if perhaps he had given the letter to someone else.
“Would you give it away, though?” said Neptune softly to the sleeping man. “After all, you went to all that trouble to steal it. Why did you steal it? Did you have blackmail in mind, or did you just steal it because it was juicy and was written by a princess?” He sighed and went to the telephone and called for a cab.
It was nearly midnight by the time he got home.
Rachel was waiting up for him. “You’re home late, Neptune. I was starting to worry.”
“Dowsey was celebrating a work mate’s birthday, then I took him home and he invited me in for a drink. Let me just have a quick shower and then I want to try some thoughts out on you.”
She nodded.
Neptune ducked into the bathroom and showered to get the smell of smoke from the pub and the filth of Dowsey’s place out of his pores. Feeling fresher and cleaner he joined Rachel in bed.
“Learn anything useful?”
“I know he’s not carrying the letter on his person. He passed out in his kitchen so I searched him. It’s not on him, and it’s not in his house. I don’t think he’s our blackmailer, Rachel.”
“Oh, why?”
“A man that is constantly drunk his every non-working moment doesn’t seem capable of the clear thinking needed to not only plan a blackmail but to carry it out to the end.”
“He could have done it when he was sober.”
Neptune’s forehead creased in thought. “True, but is he ever truly sober? You said he had several vodkas with his lunch. So far he’s managed to keep his job, the question is for how long? For all we know he’s already been given warnings to stay off the alcohol and is a closet drinker.”
“Well, if that’s the case, Neptune, then he could be the blackmailer because if he’s at risk of losing his job he would need the money.”
Neptune sighed. “You’re right. You’re perfectly right. I cannot rule him out as a suspect on the grounds that he’s a drunk. I’ll have to find a way of searching his office.”
“Okay, what if someone else stole the letter?” asked Rachel, thinking up possible alternatives.
Neptune shook his head. “No, no one else could have stolen the letter. Thwaites is sure that the only time he was caught reading the letter was by Dowsey. Dowsey snatched it off him and managed to read a bit of it. The question is why did he steal it? Was he planning on using it for blackmail, or did he just take it because it was indiscreet and he wanted to read it properly. He couldn’t risk being caught reading it while on duty at the mission, so he helped himself and slipped it in his pocket. Maybe he read it at home and left it lying around on his table. I mean, look how easy it was for me to gain entry tonight. I was a total stranger and he invited me in for a drink. I could have robbed him of everything he owns was I that way inclined.”
Rachel’s eyes reflected her concern. “Then it could be anyone. It could be a stranger he invited home from the pub or it could be a work mate. We have no way of knowing or tracing them.”
“Maybe, or maybe we can narrow it down a bit,” countered Neptune, his mind too alert for sleep, despite the hour. “The only people he would invite in would be other drunks. I think he thought I was inebriated, too. I gave him the impression that I’d had a few. Would a drunk have enough wits about him to see the letter and realize its potential?”
“No, you wouldn’t think so,” replied Rachel, knowing Neptune liked to sound his ideas aloud and get feedback.
“I don’t think so either,” continued Neptune. “So, if it is not in his office, we will have to assume someone else has it, and it would have to be someone with whom Dowsey has fairly regular contact. Although it is possible a stranger took it, it is more likely to be taken by someone he knows. A friend, or perhaps a relative. We’ll just need to keep him under surveillance. It is probably safe not to watch him during work hours, but lunch breaks and after work, definitely. We need to see whom he associates with and then check them out. Of course, he could have plotted the blackmail during work hours, but apart from sitting in his office with him, there is no way we can keep watch on him that close, not without being obvious.”
“You could confront him and accuse him of being the blackmailer,” suggested Rachel.
“I suppose, and if he’s not, then we’ve put an idea into his head. He’s read the letter. He knows about it. If his situation should worsen he might decide to put the squeeze on the princess then. It’s a given that his situation will worsen over time. No one can drink as much as he does and not have it ruin his life. It is a very awkward situation. The more people who know about the letter, the more dangerous it is for the princess. He didn’t strike me as being overly bright, but once an idea is planted, what’s to stop him from using it—even if he can’t follow through. It would still cause problems for her in the long run.”
Rachel nodded. “All right. So how are you going to go about searching his office? It’s one thing to walk into somebody’s house through the front door and pretend you’ve just been invited in. You can’t do the same thing at the office. They may have patrolling security. A lot of businesses do.”
“I’ll go as a client. I’ll pretend I want to take out some insurance. I’ll go in my Borrack disguise. Dowsey would never recognize me in that. You didn’t even recognize me in that one.”
“Well, that’s because your eyes were brown and you were balding and bucktoothed.”
Neptune grinned. “It’s perfect. I disguised my accent when I met him tonight. Besides which, he was pretty drunk. I doubt he would connect the two. Anyway, I’ll have some kind of a fit in his office and beg for water or something, something to get him out of the office, long enough to be able to unlock his window. That way I will know where his office is and be able to get in later, after they’re closed for the day.”
“I suppose it could work. It’s too bad Shark is off. How are you going to follow up on the people Dowsey meets if you’re on your own?”
“Ah, yes, good point. First thing in the morning ring Garth and get his schedule, in case I need to call on him for assistance. However, if he only meets one person, then that’s not a problem. I’ll follow that person instead of Dowsey. After all, I know where he lives. If there is more than one I suppose I could telephone you from the pub and you could come and follow the other person. We can use Garth if there is more than two other people.”
“Yes, that would do.” Rachel nodded and smiled. “All right. Now, it’s late and you have a lot of work to do tomorrow so we’d better call it a night.”
“Yes, dear,” agreed Neptune, wriggling down the bed a little so he could lie down. “Did you get onto Rebecca?”
“Yes, and she promised to go around to Shark’s straight away.”
“Good. How is he?”
“Sick. He won’t be in to work tomorrow. I’ve told him not to rush things; that we’ll manage all right and for him to just concentrate on getting better.” She leant across and kissed him, before turning out the bedside lamp and snuggling down beside him.
XII
Shark was sound asleep when Becky turned up. She let herself in with the key he’d given her. The lounge room was boiling hot, so she turned the heater off and crept into his bedroom. She stopped and looked down at him tenderly. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were rather flushed. Only a sheet covered him, having kicked the blankets off when he warmed up. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. She reached down and touched his head, it was burning. “Poor baby,” she muttered.
She left him sleep and went out to his kitchen to see about cooking up some chicken soup for him for when he woke. She found some vegetables but no chicken. Quietly, she let herself out and went to the butchers at the end of the street.
“Afternoon, can I help you?” asked the cheery butcher.
“Yes, I’d like a chicken to make chicken soup with,” said Becky. Lately, since she’d had Fluffchilla, she’d been frequenting butcher shops. She’d never even been to one before. Fluffchilla liked his braised steak and diced chicken breasts. She had never made chicken soup before either, but how hard could it be?
“You’re in luck, Miss,” said the butcher putting a medium sized white feathered headless chicken on the counter. “Fresh in today.”
Becky looked at it. “Ew.”
He smiled at her. “Don’t go by how it looks, now. Wait till it’s cooked, then it will be delicious.”
“Oh okay, you know best I guess.” She gave him a smile and paid for the bird before taking it back to Shark’s where she busied herself in the kitchen.
At four-thirty, there was a knock at the front door. Becky answered it. “Oh, hello, Valerie,” she greeted, looking a little surprised to see Dr. Henderson-Johnson on the doorstep.
“Hello, Rebecca. Shark called me earlier in the day and told me he was ill, so I promised to stop by on my way home from work.”
“Great. He’s asleep, but he’s quite feverish. I’m glad you’re here.”
As Valerie stepped into the flat her nose twitched at the less than aromatic smell wafting from the kitchen. “Cooking?” she asked.
Rebecca nodded and smiled at her. “I’m making Shark some chicken soup.”
Valerie smiled faintly. She hadn’t forgotten that Shark mentioned Becky couldn’t cook. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. It’s important to keep his fluids up, so soups and broth is just what he needs.”
Becky escorted her to the bedroom. Shark was still asleep, snoring a little now. “I’ll wake him up,” offered Becky hurrying past her to Shark. She put a hand to his shoulder and shook gently. “Shark, Shark, wake up. It’s me, Becky.” She shook him a little harder.
He opened his eyes, squinted a moment then opened them properly. “Hey, Becky,” he murmured. “Is it Saturday already?”
“No silly. It’s Wednesday. Rachel rang me and told me you were ill, so I’ve come to look after you. Dr. Henderson is here.”
Shark rolled over and spotted Valerie. “I feel like hell, Doc.”
“You look it,” agreed Valerie. She came over to the bed and put her bag down, taking her stethoscope from it.
Rebecca backed up to give her room.
“Can you sit up please, Shark?”
Shark sat up and undid his pyjama jacket buttons.
She put the stethoscope to his chest and listened to him inhale, exhale, and cough. Then she did the same listening at his back. She felt the glands at his throat and neck and had him poke his tongue out. Next she fished about in her bag for a thermometer and took his temperature.
“Will I live?” asked Shark when she finished.
She smiled. “Yes, I think so. You have got a fever though, and your glands are slightly enlarged.”
“Mi throat hurts, too.”
Valerie nodded.
“Has he got pneumonia?” asked Becky anxiously.
“No.”
“I reckon I caught this off the old bat in the doctor’s office the other day. We had to go there to talk to the doctor about a feller. An old bag sneezed all over me.”
“Perhaps,” replied Valerie, “although I think it’s more likely due to the change in climates. Your winter in Australia was very mild. You’ve just flown back and been hit with this cold snap we’re having. It’s unseasonable for autumn. Only natural you’d catch a cold. You should be all right in a few days. Stay at home, get plenty of rest, and drink lots of fluids. I’ll give you something to ease your sore throat and blocked nose, and I suggest you take regular aspirin for your temperature.”
“Thanks, Val. I appreciate yuh stoppin’ by.”
“You’re welcome.” She reached into her bag and took out the cough mixture she’d brought with her and a box of aspirin and put them down on the bedside table. “I’m sure you will be thoroughly spoiled by your nurse here.” She smiled at Rebecca. “Don’t take too much cheek from him though or he will become unbearable.”
