‘Socially?’
‘Not socially, but we move in the same circles.’
‘Anything said?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Does your husband know?’
‘No.’
‘Your father, your mother?’
‘I can’t be sure. And besides, it was a long time ago.’
***
James Holden’s body was released from Pathology and handed over to the family. They had asked for respect and to be able to grieve in peace – it was not to happen.
At the church James and Violet Holden attended every Sunday, the vultures were waiting, cameras at the ready. Isaac had seen them on his arrival and had asked the uniforms to make sure they didn’t get too close.
John and Violet Holden were the first to arrive. Soon after, Linda Holden, accompanied by her husband and two children. Isaac noticed a few politicians, everyone from James Holden’s office.
‘Not much of a showing,’ Wendy said. She sat at the back of the church with Isaac. They hadn’t been invited, but it was an excellent chance to watch the reactions of the people, to see if there were any unknown faces.
‘Under the circumstances, it’s the most that could be expected. The family’s been ostracised since his murder. Why was he in that hotel?’
‘With that woman.’
‘It’ll become clearer in time, but if Helen Langdon is so important, then why a flea-bitten hotel frequented by prostitutes?’
‘You don’t buy the idea that he may have had some sordid perversion, a need to demean Helen, to blame her for his weaknesses.’
‘Not with her, I don’t.’
‘Then what?’
‘I don’t know. What do you reckon to the family?’
‘His wife seems upset, so does his daughter. The son appears ambivalent.’
At the front of the church, the priest went through the funeral service, both John and Linda reading from the bible, Linda also delivering a eulogy, failing to mention the circumstances of her father’s death.
At the end, the coffin was borne away on the shoulders of six men, one of them John Holden, another Linda’s husband.
‘What do we know about the husband?’ Wendy said, as the coffin passed by.
‘Married to Linda for twelve years, the CEO of a manufacturing company. Not much to tell about him.’
‘Any reason to believe he might be involved?’
‘You can check him out if you like, but I’m suspicious of John Holden. His alibi is weak for the night of the murder.’
‘At home reading. A single man in his forties. It doesn’t sound natural.’
‘Gay?’
‘He was keen on Helen.’
‘Why Helen? He’s not a bad-looking man. There must be plenty of opportunities for him.’
Outside the church, the cortege left, the hearse in front, two limousines carrying the Holden family following.
‘Not much more to be gained here,’ Wendy said.
‘Caddick’s trying to get me out. I’ve received some information.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Solve this case. He’ll not act if I do, and he’ll not act to remove me at this time.’
‘He’ll wait until the right time, take credit for your good work.’
‘That’s how it works,’ Isaac said.
‘Not in my book, it doesn’t.’
‘Your book’s an old edition.’
‘It’s the edition I prefer.’
‘This time, I intend to fight fire with fire.’
‘You’re going to take him on, get him out of Challis Street, bring back Chief Superintendent Goddard?’
‘When the time’s right.’
‘That’s not like you, guv.’
‘These are unusual times. The old rules no longer apply.’
‘Be careful. It could backfire.’
‘That’s why I’m forewarning you. I don’t want anyone else involved.’
‘We’ll be right behind you, you know that.’
‘I know, but I’ll not be able to help you if I don’t succeed.’
***
Back at Challis Street, Bridget Halloran was keen to bring the team together. ‘I’ve been through the report that Linda Holden gave us,’ she said.
The four were sitting in Isaac’s office. ‘What have you found?’ Larry asked.
‘I cross-referenced the club where Helen and Daisy had worked.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Ben Aberman, the owner of the club, disappeared while they were both working there.’
‘Suspicious?’
‘Not at the time. The man had incurred significant debt, and it was thought he had left the country. No one’s ever reported him missing or attempted to find him.’
‘Was the club a front for prostitution?’ Wendy said.
‘They all are,’ Isaac said.
‘According to what we know, Helen Langdon was not prostituting herself, although Daisy probably was.’
‘Is there any more to Aberman disappearing?’
‘The ownership of the club changed overnight.’
‘And the debts?’
‘They disappeared.’
‘Are you suggesting Aberman was murdered?’
‘It’s a possibility. Also, his house has remained empty.’
‘Men such as Aberman change their names all the time,’ Larry said.
‘That’s why there’s never been an investigation, and would the police be interested in the disappearance of a man such as Aberman?’
‘Not unless there was a crime to answer for,’ Isaac said.
‘Is the club still operating?’ Larry asked.
‘I’ll give you the address. Don’t expect too much when you get there. It looks seedy.’
‘We won’t.’
‘And don’t touch the women,’ Wendy said.
‘Would we ever?’ Larry replied.
***
Two funerals in as many days. The funeral of James Holden had been poorly attended; the funeral of Helen Langdon, née Mackay, not so. This time, the church was overflowing. In the front pew, Frank and Betty Mackay. Behind them Linda Holden and the three Adamants, Archie, Abigail, and Howard.
‘We had to come,’ Abigail Adamant said. ‘A mark of respect for her.’
‘The other people here?’ Isaac said.
‘They’re supporters of what my father was trying to achieve, people that he’s helped,’ Linda Holden said, turning around from where she was sitting.
‘They weren’t present at your father’s funeral.’
‘Some were, but the others, they’re fresh out of prison. They don’t want publicity, and there were cameras at my father’s.’
‘There are cameras outside.’
‘Most of them came in through a side entrance. I organised a bus for them, and besides, Helen was one of them.’
Abigail Adamant read from the bible, one of the women who had come on the bus gave a eulogy about what an inspiration Helen had been. Linda Holden also got up and made a speech on behalf of Helen, noting that she was an exceptional woman and their lives had been better for knowing her. No mention was made of James Holden.
At the end of the service, Helen’s father, Archie and Howard Adamant, as well as three men from the bus, carried the coffin to the waiting hearse. Isaac gave Wendy his handkerchief as she was overcome with emotion. ‘It’s so sad,’ she said.
‘What was she, do we know?’ Isaac said.
‘Not really, although I feel sad for her parents.’
‘We’ve got work to do. I need to go with Larry to this club.’
Chapter 8
The night of Helen Langdon’s funeral, two men entered the Dixey Club in Bayswater. ‘It’s not much,’ Larry said. Both men were dressed casually, no ties, no signs of being police officers.
‘Do you want to be up at the front? It’ll cost extra,’ a burly, heavily tattooed man said.
‘We’re fine, wherever,’ Isaac sa
id.
‘Suit yourself. Up front, the girls get friendly.’
‘We should have accepted his offer,’ Larry said. ‘It seems obvious, our refusing. As if we disapprove.’
‘I do.’
‘That’s not the point. We’re here to check out the place, not offer a comment.’
Isaac looked for the man from before. ‘Up front,’ he said.
‘That’ll cost you.’
‘Okay, put it on the card.’
Hastily moved to the front, the two men sat perilously close to where a woman rotated around a pole. ‘It’s a meat market,’ Isaac said.
‘It’s where you’re meant to be enjoying yourself. You’ll have to stop scowling.’
‘What if we’re recognised?’
‘How? I can barely see you in here. The women are well lit, though.’
‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘I’m enjoying seeing you squirm. She’s not a bad looker, the one on the stage. How much do you reckon? A hundred?’
‘Are they all available?’
‘Most would be, but Daisy said that Helen wasn’t.’
‘How could she not be in here?’
‘Helen was a rare beauty, everyone’s told us that. She’s the drawcard, the others are what’s available. What did you reckon to Daisy?’
‘She’s had a tough life.’
‘Helen would have if she had stayed here. But then, she was a smart woman. Even if men had not taken her seriously, seen her as a plaything, it’s hard to understand what brought her to a place like this.’
The two men’s conversation was disturbed by the female from the pole coming in their direction. Larry slipped a five-pound note into her bra; she went away looking for someone more generous. She found him and sat on his lap, continuing to gyrate. Larry watched the action; Isaac pretended not to.
‘You don’t like the women?’ the man from before said.
‘Yes, we do,’ Isaac said.
‘Then don’t go skimping on the tips. She’s worth more than a measly fiver.’
It’s a rough place,’ Isaac said when the man had gone away.
‘How can we claim this on expenses?’
‘With Richard Goddard, it wouldn’t have been a problem. Caddick may not be so easy.’
‘It’s still a legit expense.’
‘Don’t worry, he’ll sign eventually. His sort of place, I would have thought,’ Isaac said.
‘What are you going to do about him?’
‘We ride out the storm. The man won’t last forever.’
‘Hey, look at her. She’s better than the other one,’ Larry said as another female walked onto the stage. Around the two men, the other patrons were clapping.
‘Some of them would be in here every night,’ Isaac said.
‘And around the back.’
‘It’s not licensed for prostitution.’
‘What does it matter? It goes on. These women work on tips, and what they can make on the side. Even then, the management will take a percentage.’
‘I still find it hard to believe Helen Langdon worked here.’
‘You think there was another side to the woman before she gave up on being an accountant?’ Larry said.
‘It’s possible.’
‘We’ll check it out.’
‘This is not my kind of place,’ Isaac said. ‘Let’s go.’
***
Isaac, not feeling pleased with himself for enjoying the cavorting females at the Dixey Club, although he’d not admit it to his DI, was in the office early the next day. He had dwelt on what they had seen at the club, reflected on the woman that Helen Langdon had been. Isaac was convinced she wasn’t as chaste as she had been portrayed.
The team were in the office; Larry, not an early morning person, arrived last.
‘We checked out the club last night,’ Isaac said.
‘Did you enjoy it?’ Wendy asked.
‘Not particularly,’ Isaac said, not wanting to admit the truth. It was as if entry somehow detached the patron from the reality of the outside world. A place where the basest desires were permitted, even encouraged. The men in the audience, what little he had seen of them, had been nudging each other, pointing at the women, making suggestive gestures. The women looked annoyed, yet moved in their direction, allowing them to sample the goods, ensuring that the men stuffed random notes in their underwear.
‘Are you going back?’ Wendy asked.
‘Ben Aberman, any more updates?’ Isaac asked.
‘I found records of Helen working there, Daisy as well,’ Bridget said. ‘The dates correlate with Aberman’s disappearance, although Helen left two days after the man disappeared. Daisy stayed for another three months.’
‘Any more about what Helen did there? From what we could see, all of the women were willing to let the men paw them.’
‘Helen must have,’ Wendy said.
‘Daisy said she didn’t and she wasn’t into selling herself.’
‘Aberman’s disappearance and Helen leaving the club two days later is more than a coincidence. Daisy must know more than she told us.’
‘We need to talk to her again. Would you like me to deal with it?’ Wendy said.
‘Take her for a meal. She looked as though she could do with one. Talk to her woman to woman,’ Isaac said.
‘I know what to do, guv.’
‘Aberman’s house, do you have an address, Bridget?’
‘It’s in the country. I’ll give it to you.’
***
‘What do you hope to gain from this?’ Larry said as he and Isaac drove out to Aberman’s house.
‘Helen Langdon’s story is a lie. As though she orchestrated this whole subterfuge.’
‘But why?’
‘I don’t know, and that concerns me. If she could maintain a cover for so long, what else is she capable of?’
‘Gerald Adamant?’
‘What if she did kill him, and not in self-defence?’ Isaac said.
‘The woman admitted to killing him. She served time in prison.’
‘She was even the one who phoned the police to give herself up, which tends to destroy my argument.’
‘I can see what you’re getting at,’ Larry said. ‘Ben Aberman.’
‘What if she killed him? We don’t know how and why, and maybe it’s a red herring.’
‘If she’s working in the club, and the men are keeping their distance, and she’s not selling herself, it can only mean one thing.’
‘She was Aberman’s woman.’
‘Too many loose ends. She was an accountant, a reputable firm. No doubt she was annoyed with all the attention, the lewd comments, but she was a smart woman, and there are laws in this country. She could have done something about it, other than take off her business suit and gyrate around a pole, and what if some of her former clients or former work colleagues came in?’
Aberman’s house, better than expected, sat on the edge of the village. Larry got out of the car and opened the gate for Isaac to drive in. An old lady appeared from one side of the house. ‘What are you doing here? I’ll call the police.’
‘We are the police,’ Larry said. ‘We’re following up on Mr Aberman’s disappearance.’
‘I’ll need to see your identification.’
‘No problems. And you are?’
‘I live next door. I keep a watch on the house for Mr Aberman.’
‘He’s been missing for a long time.’
‘A woman comes here sometimes. She gives me some money for my trouble.’
‘How often?’ Isaac said, having joined Larry and the old lady outside the front door of the house.
‘Sometimes she phones, but every month some money, not that I need it.’
‘When was the last time you saw Mr Aberman?’
‘It’s a few years. He’s overseas.’
‘What can you tell us about him?’
‘He used to come here most weekends. He was always pleasant to me, a
lways brought some flowers or chocolates. He worked in London.’
‘Do you know what sort of business?’
‘He said he was in the entertainment business. That explained some of the people I saw here.’
‘What sort of people?’
‘Show business types, expensive cars, fur coats, parties on the lawn at the back.’
‘And then he left?’
‘One day he’s here, the next he’s gone. I thought it strange at the time as he always came over to my house to say goodbye. He was a gentleman. And then a woman turns up, tells me he’s travelling, and would I look after the house. Not that there’s much to do. A man comes once a month to mow the lawn, and I dust inside the best I can, but that’s about it.’
‘Can you describe the woman?’
‘Laura. An attractive woman, younger than him.’
‘Was she here most weekends?’
‘Not always, and then she disappeared for a few years, but the money still came through.’
Isaac looked at Larry, knew what he was thinking.
‘It’s important,’ Isaac said. ‘Can you describe this woman in detail?’
‘She looked no older than my granddaughter, and she’s not yet thirty. She spoke nicely, always very polite.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’
‘Two weeks ago.’
‘Her car?’
‘She didn’t drive. There’s a railway station here, and it’s not far to walk.’
‘I’ve a photo. Can you tell me if it is her?’ Isaac said as he handed the woman the picture.
The old woman took out her glasses from the pocket of the coat she was wearing, Isaac and Larry were champing at the bit, waiting for an answer. The woman took her time.
‘Yes, that’s her. That’s Laura, such a nice person. Or I think it is. She dresses differently when she comes here, more sombre. She always has dark sunglasses on, never takes them off, not even when she comes in my house for a cup of tea. A lovely person, and so was Mr Aberman. I hope he’ll be back soon.’
Chapter 9
Wendy arrived outside Daisy’s flat at nine in the morning. If the woman had been working at night, she would be asleep, not that it would discourage Wendy from knocking. The flat, three floors up and with no lift, proved difficult for the police sergeant.
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