DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2

by Phillip Strang

  ‘I’ve not said he was a saint.’

  ‘Did you know Nicholas Slater?’

  ‘Yes, I met him once or twice. Father introduced me to him.’

  ‘He was an acquaintance of Ben Aberman, even went to his parties.’

  ‘My father went to one or two, I know that.’

  ‘Did you know what sort of parties they were?’

  ‘I never asked my father, but I can imagine. Alcohol and a good time.’

  ‘And women supplied by Aberman,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Good for my father, if that was the case,’ Abigail said.

  Larry observed Isaac going easy on the woman. ‘Abigail, if what we have been told is correct, it would destroy your father’s reputation,’ he said.

  ‘It wouldn’t concern me. I’m not filled with the need to help others. I’m a selfish person. My father helped a lot of people. My brother is trying to do the same, but he’ll not succeed as well as our father.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Our father had genuine compassion. He was charismatic, people instinctively liked him. You’ve met my brother. He can be blunt with people, and he doesn’t have the same level of commitment. My brother and I, we’re the generation that loses the money.’

  ‘Howard, your younger brother?’

  ‘He was never spoilt by the wealth.’

  Isaac could tell that Abigail Adamant was incapable of any great passion. She did not concern herself with right and wrong, only with what gave her pleasure, and whereas she had shown compassion for Helen, she was not interested in whether her father had died as a result of murder or of a woman defending herself. Isaac had to admit that he did not like her very much.

  Chapter 25

  Two things happened the day following Isaac and Larry’s conversation with Abigail Adamant. The first was Richard Goddard coming into Isaac’s office to tell him that the audit into the department had been cancelled: it was not unexpected.

  ‘The man beat them again,’ Goddard said. ‘Even the head of Counter Terrorism Command is back in his old job.’

  ‘It’s an admission from Davies that he was wrong.’

  ‘That’s not how Davies operates. He’ll take the criticism, turn it into an advantage. The commissioner is a man who listens to the rank and file, a man who believes in an open-door policy to his office. The next time you meet him, he’ll be friendly, singing your praises.’

  ‘And I’m meant to show him the necessary respect?’ Isaac said.

  ‘You’ll show him due deference as befits his rank.’

  ‘The plan to remove him has been shelved?’

  ‘It’s always there, but he’ll stay, at least until his contract is up. I have to give the man his due, he knows how to play the game.’

  ‘The damage he’s caused to the Met,’ Isaac said.

  ‘It’s minor. We’re still here, so are the majority of the competent and dedicated.’

  The second thing that happened was when Abigail Adamant went home and questioned her brother, Archie.

  ‘I was told our father was involved in Ben Aberman’s murder,’ Abigail said. She was sitting in the living room of the Adamant house. To one side of her was Howard, his feet hanging over the arm of the sofa. Archie sat square on, his tie loosened, his top shirt button undone.

  ‘So what?’ was Howard’s reply.

  ‘Did you know about this? Abigail said to Archie.

  ‘Aberman was being difficult. Someone had to deal with him,’ Archie replied. He resented being questioned by his sister.

  ‘Are you condoning murder?’

  ‘It’s unproven, and since when did you care about our father as long as you had sufficient money to squander?’

  ‘If our father killed Ben Aberman, could Helen have murdered our father?’

  Howard turned around from where he had been feigning disinterest and placed his feet on the ground. ‘We’ve been through this before. We supported Helen. If we let the police suspect we have doubts, they’ll believe what Abigail has just said about our father.’

  ‘They believe it already,’ Abigail said. ‘Archie, what is the truth?’

  ‘Our father may have had another side to him. There are some discrepancies in his finances, large sums of money going in, going out.’

  ‘Did Helen know this?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Did you know about our father when he was alive?’ Howard asked.

  ‘Not totally. I knew about the parties at Aberman’s house. But that was a long time ago.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He wanted to talk one day. He admired people such as Aberman, not concerned about their reputations, what people thought of them.’

  ‘Was our father a crook?’

  ‘He was a businessman who lent money.’

  ‘High risk, high interest?’

  ‘To people such as Ben Aberman. Our father enjoyed the subterfuge.’

  ‘You’ve not answered the question,’ Abigail said. ‘Did our father kill Ben Aberman?’

  ‘Not personally, but it’s possible,’ Archie said.

  ‘And since then, Helen’s killing of our father?’

  ‘I still believe Helen’s account of what happened,’ Archie said.

  ‘Archie, did you kill Helen?’

  ‘I’ve not been responsible for any murders.’

  Howard Adamant looked over at his half-brother. He wasn’t sure what to believe. Abigail sat down resignedly and looked into space. Her only concern, the impact the truth would have on her lifestyle.

  ***

  Ten o’clock in the morning, and in Homicide the team were focussing on their individual activities. Bridget was dealing with the administration, Wendy and Larry were working on their weekly reports. Isaac was in his office checking his emails.

  None of them expected Gwendoline, Daisy’s former flatmate, to walk in the door. Wendy saw her first and went over. ‘I had to come,’ the prostitute said.

  ‘Take a seat and take your time,’ Wendy said. ‘That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there.’

  ‘It was him,’ the woman said. Wendy could see that she had slept rough the night before. Her clothes were in disarray, her hair was tangled, and the handbag she carried was open.

  ‘Him?’

  ‘The man who drugged me when the two were killed in the hotel.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’m looking at him. There’s something familiar, but I can’t make out what it is. I’ve got my money, he’s had what he wanted, and I’m ready to go. He’s holding my arm. I finally remember who he is. I’m frightened, trying to get free, but he’s hanging on. I grabbed a knife from my bag and stabbed him.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Last night. I’ve been keeping out of sight until now.’

  ‘The cut on your arm?’

  ‘He lashed out at me as I ran out of the room. I caught my arm on something sharp.’

  Bridget came in and administered first aid. Wendy gave Gwendoline a hot drink and attempted to calm her.

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, and I’m scared to go home. I phoned my flatmate not to go there either, but I doubt if she listened to me.’

  ‘Would he have your address?’

  ‘Some of the contents of my handbag fell out. I can’t find some of my cards, one of them has an address on it.’

  ‘The address?’

  ‘15 Brixham Street, Shepherd’s Bush, Flat 5,’ Gwendoline said.

  Wendy made a phone call. ‘There’s a police car on the way to check it out. You should have come in here earlier.’

  ‘I was frightened. He’s killed two people, three if I include Daisy. He could have killed me.’

  ‘Did he take you to that room to kill you?’

  ‘I don’t think he recognised me. Before I had red hair, now it’s blonde. He wanted me for sex, that’s all.’

  ‘Describe the man?’

  ‘I told you before, I don’t look. I only do it for the drug
s.’

  ‘What do you remember?’

  ‘He smelt nice.’

  ‘Perfume?’

  ‘Aftershave. He was dressed smartly.’

  ‘A suit?’

  ‘Yes, although I don’t remember a tie.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘The man, nothing. Maybe you think I’m lying, but I’m not. I never remember them after they’ve left.

  ‘You’d recognise the smell again?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Very well. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed. After that, we can go and see if we can find what the aftershave was.’

  Isaac and Larry, realising that Wendy would be the best person to talk to Gwendoline, left her alone. After the woman had eaten breakfast at a café across the road, she and Wendy walked back to the police station. ‘I wanted to join the police when I was younger,’ the woman said.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Drugs. I tried them once, and I was hooked. There’s nothing that can be done.’

  ‘With treatment, it may be possible.’

  ‘That’s the problem. They give you the methadone, the counselling needed. After that, it’s up to the individual to deal with the problem, but the craving, it never goes away.’ Wendy, even though she had been nearly two years without a cigarette, still savoured the smell on the street. Wendy knew that heroin was different, and it had destroyed Gwendoline, a woman in her mid-thirties.

  Wendy received a phone call. ‘Are you certain?’ she said.

  She then called in Isaac and Larry. ‘Gwendoline’s flatmate, she’s dead,’ Wendy said. Gwendoline sat quietly sobbing.

  ‘Wendy, look after Gwendoline,’ Isaac said. ‘I’ll go with Larry to the address.’

  ‘We need to identify the aftershave the man was wearing,’ Wendy said.

  ‘Forensics can probably do that if the smell is at the flat,’ Larry said.

  ‘Maybe, but it’ll help Gwendoline if she’s occupied. The man’s experienced at killing. He’ll not make mistakes with the flatmate. He didn’t expect to meet Gwendoline again. He wasn’t prepared.’

  ‘She wasn’t a bad flatmate, not as bad as Daisy,’ Gwendoline said sadly. ‘I must be jinxed. Share a flat with me, end up dead.’

  ***

  Neither Isaac nor Larry were impressed with what constituted a flat for two heroin-addicted prostitutes. It was on the second floor of an old council block. The general area was not good either. In the flat, an old kitchen – two of the cupboard doors hanging off their hinges, a cooker that looked as though it had not been used for some time, a refrigerator which hummed loudly. In one corner of the main living area, an old television was switched to one of the shopping channels.

  ‘Where’s the body?’ Gordon Windsor, the CSE, said as he entered with his team.

  ‘In the other room. We’ve not been in there yet.’

  ‘And you won’t be until you kit up. I don’t want you making a mess of the place, destroying the evidence.’

  ‘We know the rules,’ Larry said.

  Inside the bedroom, a woman was sprawled across the bed. ‘She’s been shot,’ Windsor said.

  ‘We believe it’s the same person who killed Helen Langdon and James Holden.’

  ‘If that’s the case, there’ll not be much evidence.’

  ‘The man’s rattled. He hadn’t expected to be recognised by the prostitute he’d drugged before.’

  Isaac looked around the room: no fairy lights, no massage oil, no sign that the woman brought men back to the flat. On a bedside table stood a photo of a family. Isaac assumed it was of the woman’s family in a happier time. A picture of the dead woman and two others, one of them Gwendoline, was taped to the wall.

  ‘Not much to see here,’ Windsor said.

  ‘Any observations?’

  ‘She’s been shot at close range. There’s a sign of a struggle, not much damage to the place. The bullet is probably a 9 mm.’

  ‘The same gun that killed Langdon and Holden?’

  ‘That’s up to Forensics, not me.’

  On the way out, Isaac and Larry looked into Gwendoline’s room. It was the same as the other woman’s, devoid of anything other than a bed, a few personal items, a few photos. Isaac picked up some clothes and toiletries, at Wendy’s request. Gwendoline was at the police station, and she would not be coming back to the flat. It was a murder scene, and it now represented the best chance to find out the identity of the murderer.

  Outside on the street, the usual gathering of onlookers. One of the women standing in the crowd, in her forties, overweight, blotched face, came over. ‘I saw him,’ she said.

  Isaac pulled her to one side. ‘What can you tell us?’

  ‘I was waiting at my door for a friend,’ she said. Isaac knew she was another prostitute and she had been waiting for a client.

  ‘Your name?’

  ‘Professional or my correct name?’

  ‘Both.’ The onlookers, sensing additional gossip, attempted to follow. A uniformed constable kept them behind the temporary barrier.

  ‘Delilah, a hint of forbidden delights,’ the woman said. It was clear she had retained a sense of humour.

  ‘Your real name?’

  ‘Mary Alton.’

  ‘Miss Alton, what can you tell us.’

  ‘Call me Delilah. Why don’t you treat me to a cup of tea and something to eat? Then we can talk.’

  Isaac and Larry hoped it wasn’t a con job to get them to buy her a meal.

  Inside the restaurant, not far from the murder scene, the three of them sat. A disinterested waiter took the order. Isaac thought the place looked unhygienic. Larry and the woman ordered fish and chips. Isaac settled for coffee only.

  ‘Is she dead?’ Delilah said.

  ‘She’s been shot.’

  ‘I can’t say I knew her. I’d occasionally hear her and her friend coming home, but apart from that, we didn’t talk much. I went into their flat once to borrow something or other, I can’t remember what.’

  Alcohol, Isaac thought but did not comment.

  ‘Gwendoline was okay, the other one could be snooty.’

  ‘Snooty?’

  ‘She thought she was better than us. Supposedly she had grown up in a posh house somewhere. She spoke well, I’ll grant her that.’

  ‘You saw the man who shot her,’ Larry said.

  ‘I’m waiting for a friend.’

  ‘Client or friend?’ Isaac said.

  ‘One and the same. If they’ve got the money, they’re my friend. I’ve got my door open, just slightly, enough to see who’s coming up the stairs. My flat is near theirs. I can see it’s not him, so I close my door.’

  ‘Did he see you?’

  ‘No. He would have killed me if I had, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘It seems probable.’

  ‘I heard him knock on the door opposite and Annie opening it. That was the name I knew her by, probably not her real name, but most of us, we don’t want to remember where we came from.’

  ‘What happened then?’ Larry said.

  ‘Annie, she opens the door, and the man enters.’

  ‘You’re watching?’

  ‘Not then, but I can hear well enough. The man’s looking for Gwendoline, but she’s not there. I can tell he’s angry and Annie’s not saying much.’

  ‘Suspicious?’

  ‘Where I live? The building is full of people like me, like him. If someone’s screwing or arguing, I just turn up the music in my flat.’

  ‘Tell us about the man?’

  ‘He’s average, nothing special, although he wore a distinctive aftershave.’

  ‘You could smell it?’

  ‘My friend arrived after a few minutes. He thought I’d just had another man in my flat.’

  ‘Did it worry him?’

  ‘He doesn’t like it. He’s a regular, you see. Sometimes they get jealous, but that’s his problem.’

  ‘Did you see the face of the man who entered Annie’s flat?’


  ‘Not really. He had on a heavy coat, the collar turned up. He was wearing a hat.’

  ‘It’s the same man,’ Isaac said to Larry.

  ‘Delilah, you’ve had a narrow escape,’ Larry said.

  Chapter 26

  Wendy took Gwendoline shopping to try to identify the aftershave the man had been wearing. At the first shop they visited, no success. At the second, the same result. At the third, the smell of the aftershave was unmistakable. Wendy purchased a bottle and then returned to the station, but not before the two women had stopped at a restaurant.

  ‘Not point in skimping on the budget. You’re a witness. It’s important we look after you,’ Wendy said.

  ‘You’ve been very generous,’ Gwendoline said.

  Wendy felt sad for the woman, a woman like so many others, just surviving day to day.

  Back at the office, Isaac handed Gwendoline a small case with some of her belongings from her flat.

  ‘When can I get the rest?’ she asked.

  ‘Wendy will organise it for you. Maybe tomorrow. Do you have somewhere to stay?’

  ‘I’ve a friend, she’ll look after me for a few days.’

  ‘I’ll take her there,’ Wendy said.

  ‘When you get back, we need to discuss what we have,’ Isaac said.

  ‘It’s a bit obvious, wearing aftershave,’ Larry said.

  ‘The man wasn’t expecting to meet Gwendoline. He’s flustered, realising his cover’s been broken. Whoever he is, he must be one of the men we’ve been interviewing. Anyone that comes to mind?’

  ‘Archie Adamant, he’s a smart dresser, his brother’s not.’

  ‘John Holden, when he was alive, may have qualified, but he’s dead and buried.’

  ‘I had him down as the possible murderer, but if Gwendoline’s correct, it can’t be him.’

  Wendy returned to the office twenty minutes after dropping off Gwendoline. ‘It’s a better place than Daisy’s was,’ she said.

  ‘Housekeeping is not Gwendoline’s strong point. The flat she shared with the last murder victim was a mess, even worse than my place,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I suppose you don’t have stray men over at your place,’ Wendy said.

  ‘No strays of any kind.’

  ‘Coming back to the point,’ Larry said, ‘the only men we’ve met who are still free are Barry Knox, although I can’t remember him smelling of anything, Christine Aberman’s current husband, and the two Adamant men. It still doesn’t explain who shot Slater and his receptionist, and ruined my best suit.’