‘Not a lot,’ Colin said. ‘The forensic team are still examining things like fibres. We also took some samples from the grounds that might give us information about the stalker. Plenty of fingerprints throughout the house, but we’ll need to match them with those who have a right to be there. I thought we might get something from her neck, it’s a bit dicey but sometimes you can get a fingerprint from skin, but no joy. It’s possible he wore gloves of some sort.’
Grant Donaldson opened his mouth to speak.
‘What about witness interviews?’ Andy snapped out. ‘Who have we spoken to?’
Sue stood up. ‘I’ve spoken to the maid, Marika. Apart from discovering the body she wasn’t much help. She did give us information about Mr Ralston’s whereabouts, although it was very general. She also volunteered the information that Mrs Ralston had a temper and that she thought the marriage wasn’t particularly happy.’
‘Have we contacted the husband yet?’
‘I’ve been in touch with his firm,’ Bill said, ‘but apparently he moves around a lot on these trips and seldom leaves an address, so that was no go. I’ve also left a message on his mobile, although his staff told me he rarely uses it. They did say that he usually phones in every second or third day, so if he hasn’t contacted us by that time they’ll be able to get word to him that we wish to interview him.’
‘Anyone else got anything to contribute?’ Andy looked around the room. ‘Okay, things seem to be going to plan so let’s get the next part of the operation underway. I want to know everything about Mrs Ralston, her background and her secrets. Find out if there’s anything in her past that might have a bearing on the case and if so, check it out. I also want to know about her movements yesterday, what time she left work and whether she went straight home. I want to know who saw her, which means house to house enquiries in her neighbourhood and on her route home. I realize there are no near neighbours, but you never know what might turn up. I want a thorough house search as well as a search of her office. We’ll also need officers to interview her friends and work colleagues. Find out when her husband will be back and check out his movements. Oh, and find out if anyone else has been stalked.’ He turned to Bill, ‘I’ll leave the arrangements to you, Bill. Allocate the tasks whatever way you want.’
‘Sure,’ Bill said.
‘Is there anything you’d like to contribute, Grant?’ Andy smiled at him in a pseudo-friendly way.
‘No, I think you’ve covered it very well.’ It was impossible to tell from Grant’s voice whether he was pleased or not.
***
Julie’s mood fluctuated between euphoria and despair as she readied herself for work and travelled to the town centre. Despair was winning when she alighted from the bus in front of Primark. Directly across the wide street Patrick Drake’s store brooded over the Nethergate in one direction and the High Street in the other. It was an old fashioned edifice whose facade was gothic and age-darkened, in direct contrast to the sparkling glass frontage of the new mall. No wonder the store management were worried.
She turned into the side street leading to the back alley, that dismal, narrow close that had to be negotiated before she reached the rear entrance. The large display window, just before the alley, was still boarded up. Julie stopped. This was unusual because Drake’s liked window glass to be replaced immediately. She would mention it to Harry when she went in. He would not want anyone to think he was falling down on the job, particularly considering recent events.
The alley seemed longer, darker and narrower than she remembered; the buildings flanking each side, higher; the tramp, sitting close to the rear entrance, more menacing. Julie dug her hands into her pockets to feel for her key, but it was not there. Her heels clacked loudly on the stone as she hurried towards the back door. The feeling of being watched had returned and she swivelled her head to look at the tramp, but his head as well as his body was totally enclosed in the old blanket he had wrapped round himself. Time seemed to stand still and she thought Harry was never going to open the back door. She jiggled nervously from foot to foot. If he did not hurry up she would have to return up the alley.
When the door finally opened Julie slipped inside glad to be within the safety of the store even if it was only this eerie back corridor with its fizzing electrics and dancing shadows. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t there,’ she said.
‘Sorry Julie. My foot has been giving me gyp. It kind of slows me down.’ There was a slump to Harry’s shoulders that was more pronounced than previously.
Julie looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. ‘This has taken a lot out of you,’ she murmured. ‘But don’t worry, it’ll pass over.’
‘I hope so. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on with this hanging over me. After Mrs Ralston’s accusations I feel everyone’s looking at me and whispering. I wouldn’t care, but I haven’t done anything.’
‘I know, Harry.’ Julie continued up the corridor and was almost at the connecting door before she remembered the window. She half turned, ‘While I’m remembering, Harry, the side window’s still boarded up. Can you check it out?’
‘I’m going to be doing that as soon as everyone’s in and the store’s opened.’
***
Ken drove into the car park under the bridge. As usual, it was almost full. Often he had met Nicole here and they had sauntered up the road together, but he would not be doing that anymore. A quick pang of grief struck him unexpectedly, making him draw in his breath and fight back the tears that threatened to come. It made no difference that he had intended to end the affair, he still felt something for Nicole. He climbed back into his car and, resting his hands on the steering wheel, he lowered his head onto them and gave way to the tears.
It was almost an hour before he managed to compose himself enough to leave the car, and he was still in a daze as he walked to the store.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Patrick Drake stepped out of the Rolls Royce moments before the store opened. Several people were clustered on the pavement outside and Patrick, who could always make an educated guess about what a customer would spend, mentally weighed them up.
It was a game he played and he was rarely wrong which was why he had been so successful in business. Even in the early days when he’d only had a market stall he had known who to concentrate on and who was a waste of time. As a result his rise in the business world had been swift and profitable.
He concentrated on the game now, his gaze flicking from one person to the other. The old man leaning on his cane and fingering his moustache with his other hand had evidently seen better days judging by the shabbiness of his clothes. He would be going inside to get out of the cold, and was probably only worth the price of a cup of tea. Two harassed looking young mothers with toddlers in tow would be heading for the food hall or children’s wear. They would not waste time, but might spend a pound or two. The blue haired granny was a typical candidate for the makeup or perfume counter. Someone should tell her she was wasting her money and she would look better with less of a face mask, but it was not going to be him. The young man, dapper in his business suit and with his briefcase swinging at his side, was probably a travelling salesman or representative as they liked to be called nowadays so he was not worth spending time on.
Patrick recalled it had been some time since he had handled a rep, although he had considerable experience of dealing with them. He had particularly enjoyed the games he played with them and on them, particularly the cocky ones, for they were the ones he liked to take down a peg or two and he knew just how to do it.
There was movement inside and the small crowd surged forward. Patrick watched carefully as the security man unlocked the doors, noting the way he welcomed those waiting, tipping his hand to his cap as the first of the customers trickled in.
Leaning against the car, Patrick was convinced he looked like any other bystander, as he puffed on his cigar and deliberately allowed time for the small influx of people to subside. While he
waited, he took the chance to admire the window displays.
This had been his first department store and he had never lost his affection for it. But profits had been consistently dropping since the new shopping mall had replaced the previous uglier mall.
He turned and looked across the street, comparing the ultra modern frontage of the Overgate Centre with the gothic building that housed his department store. It made him wonder whether he was allowing sentiment to get in the way of a change, and whether this was why he was losing customers. Perhaps modernising his present store was a non-starter as there was only so much that could be done with such a large building. It was maybe time to put out feelers about space within the new extension that was being planned for the Centre. However, he would need to be convinced of the profitability of any potential move before he took a decision.
He dropped his cigar to the pavement grinding it under the sole of his shoe, before he turned round to smile tightly at the chauffeur. ‘That’ll be all for now, Frankie. I’ll phone you when I’m ready to go, but I expect to be in the store most of the morning.’ He smiled again, a thin-lipped cruel smile, ‘I’m sure the staff will appreciate my presence – showing my concern and all that.’
The security man seemed startled to see him, but he stood to attention, touched his cap, smiled, and said, ‘Good morning, Mr Drake.’
‘Good morning. I’m afraid I don’t recall your name?’
‘It’s Harry, sir. Harry Watson.’
‘Of course, I remember now. I’ve been watching you, Harry. You’re doing a good job. Keep it up.’
As Patrick strolled on into the store a warm contented feeling surged through his body. It had been just a few words of encouragement, but the man had responded to it like a dog being stroked.
Patrick had not felt so good for a long time. He would have to come to the store more often. He would also have to speak to Ken about the security man’s uniform. No use speaking to Nicole any more, he thought, with a wry twist of the dark humour he was renowned for. The man’s uniform was smart enough, and he obviously looked after it, but his shirt was threadbare and his shoes, although well polished, were obviously worn. He would suggest to Ken that shirts and shoes should also be provided.
Instead of heading for the lift as he had intended, he descended the stairs to the food hall. Normally he left store inspection to the assistant directors and the section managers but, he thought, maybe it was time he took a more personal interest. He hovered at the edge of the restaurant area surveying the functional chairs and tables, turning over in his mind the various possibilities for improvement.
‘Can I help you, Mr Drake?’
He had not heard Betty approach him from behind. ‘Just considering,’ he said. ‘It’s Betty, isn’t it? I remember you from the old days when I was here more often. You must have been with us for a long time.’
‘More years than I care to think about, Mr Drake.’
‘There doesn’t seem to have been much change over those years, Betty.’ He thought for a moment. ‘What d’you think of a complete makeover? A new servery. Upgrade the furniture. Swank the place up a bit.’
‘Mmh,’ Betty considered. ‘I did have some ideas I put forward last year, but there wasn’t any money at the time.’
‘Tell you what, Betty. You work out a plan for upgrading the restaurant and send it to me and we’ll see what we can do.’ He moved on leaving Betty staring at his retreating back.
A youngish woman, late twenties early thirties, he guessed was approaching him. ‘Mr Drake?’ she said. ‘Julie Forbes, section manager of the food hall.’ She held out her hand and shook his with a business like shake.
‘I don’t think I’ve previously had the pleasure. I would have remembered,’ he murmured. She was very attractive, short brown hair framing a perfectly shaped face. Large, grey eyes which, on closer inspection had small flecks of green intermingled with the grey. Long neck and delicately shaped shoulders that were at odds with her athletic frame. Oh yes, he would have remembered her. ‘Maybe you can walk me round the food hall and tell me how it’s doing. Whether you’ve made any improvements and any further areas of development you’ve identified.’
He spent a pleasant half-hour with Julie, making a mental note that a promotion might not be out of order, before moving on to inspect the other departments in the store. Gradually he worked his way upwards until he reached the office floor.
***
Betty waggled a cup in the air to attract Julie’s attention.
‘Does that mean what I think it means?’ Julie said as she joined Betty at the servery.
‘I think we deserve it,’ Betty said. She filled the cups with frothy white coffee and pointing to a table nearby said, ‘Let’s sit, shall we.’
‘He seemed quite nice.’ Julie sipped her coffee appreciatively.
‘About as nice as a cobra,’ Betty said. ‘All charm, but watch out for the bite. I’d guess he’s getting ready to do a management shake-up and I don’t give much for Ken’s chances now Nicole’s gone.’
‘That’s a bit cryptic, and if I didn’t know you better, I’d say it was also cynical.’ Julie studied Betty over the rim of her cup.
‘Cynical for sure, I’ve been around too long and seen too much. That old blighter knows everything that’s going on. He knew about Ken and Nicole and I’d guess he was playing a game with them. A great one for games is our Mr Patrick. A great one for a pretty face too. You watch out for him, I saw the way he was looking at you.’
Julie laughed. ‘He was only interested in what I’d been doing with the food hall and wants to know what other plans I have in mind.’
‘Oh yes,’ Betty said. ‘We’ve all been there, just make sure there’s plenty of folk around when you give him feedback about your plans or you’ll find his plans are taking over. And I don’t think they would have anything to do with the development of the food hall.’
‘Oh, you don’t know that, Betty. It’s all part of the mystery he likes to surround himself with. The stories about him are only rumour.’
‘It’s more than rumour,’ Betty said grimly. ‘Just take it from me, I know.’
Julie put her cup down in the saucer with a clatter. ‘Betty, you didn’t, you haven’t?’ she looked at her friend while her mind turned over the thought that had just sidled its way in. ‘Betty, I do believe you’re blushing.’
‘Believe what you like. Anyway it’s a long time ago – the best part of twenty years. Just mind what I say. Watch out for the old blighter, he looks harmless, but there’s some as knows better.’
***
Patrick looked round the boardroom table. The room was packed with representatives from every department in the store, and now that the last of the stragglers had arrived he could get started. Evelyn had made a good job of arranging this meeting in the least possible time. He smiled at her, noting with interest the pink tinge creeping into her cheeks. ‘You sit at my side Evelyn, and maybe you can take a note of the meeting.’ Evelyn was an asset, worth keeping because she would support him in anything he wanted to do.
He was not so sure about the rest of them: Miss Smithers, for example, the woman was a pain in the neck, questioning everything, although admittedly she had a good record in the electrical department and at least she could be relied on for her honesty; then there was the new girl Julie, an unknown quantity, but with possibilities and the added benefit of looks. He would not mind a session or two with her, but that could wait. First there was the business.
‘Everyone knows what’s happened and I’m sure everyone regrets it.’ Patrick surveyed the staff sitting round the table. His eyes lingered for a moment on Harry, the security man, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, probably understandable under the circumstances. It had not taken Patrick long to find out about the bawling out Nicole had given him, although Patrick did not intend to let that influence any decision he might make.
‘In the circumstances I’m sure everyone will want to pay their res
pects.’ He did not elaborate on how this might be done. ‘No doubt the police will be back and I want everyone to co-operate fully,’ he paused, ‘however, I’m sure you’ll all keep the good of the store in mind.’ He continued his pep talk finishing with, ‘Of course, we will now have to look at some restructuring and I’ll be doing this over the next few days. I’m sure you will understand the reasons and co-operate with any decisions made.’ His eye lingered on Ken. The man was looking very shifty, no doubt worrying about what the outcome of any investigation would be and its possible effect on his marriage. Maybe there was more, Patrick was not sure. In any event, Ken’s days were now numbered. Patrick did not forget or forgive anyone who let him down, and Ken had let him down yesterday.
He placed his hands flat on the table top, levering himself up. ‘I think we can close the meeting now, and I know I can rely on everybody to remember where their loyalties lie.’ He smiled at each one of them as they filed past him, waiting until Julie was within reach. Leaning over, he placed a hand on her arm. ‘If you could just hang back a moment Julie, I’d like a few words.’ It was time to start putting his plans into action.
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