Dead in the Water

by Wilfred Jules

  “It’s a big school,” Ianthe said. “Why is that exceptionally interesting?”

  “Because when Ajanta put a little pressure on her,” John chimed in, “Ms Cline said that Brandon also sold stuff to Roedean girls.”

  “How would he have done that?” Ben asked. “It’s a boarding school, right? Did he sneak onto the grounds or so?”

  “It isn’t only a boarding school anymore these days,” Ajanta replied. “There are plenty of Sussex girls that attend Roedean as a day school. And the Nicholson home is like on the corner of the gate to the grounds of Roedean school. It must have been easy. Besides, boarding school is nothing like it was in Victorian novels. The girls have a lot of freedom. And there is a ‘secret’ passage from the grounds directly to the beach. Anyone who is up to some mischief can slip in and out easily.”

  “One other interesting thing about Roedean girls is that generally speaking their parents are well off,” Ianthe mused. “It makes a lot of sense for a dealer to create a customer relationship with the girls while they are young so that he can keep supplying them with the stuff when they graduate from Roedean and move on to uni.”

  “He may also simply like very young girls,” John commented. He turned red when he saw everyone looked at him. “Hey, some guys are like that!”

  “Yes of course, John,” Ianthe replied. “That’s a rather good comment, too. Is Stephanie Cline willing to testify if this ever comes to court?”

  “Grudgingly, but I think she will.” Ajanta replied. “Particularly if the other two are also willing to step up. I don’t think she liked Brandon Nicholson much.”

  “He appears to be more and more a shifty character, our Brandon,” Ianthe agreed. “Please continue to work on that angle and locate the other two girls you mentioned. If they give you more names, so much the better. If we can’t nail him yet for murder at least we can make sure the narcotics charge stands. I wouldn’t be surprised the magistrates will be inclined to refer this case to the Crown Court. Alistair Holloway will be rather dismayed I would say!”

  That thought made everyone smile.

  “If there is nothing else, we can close for the day. Ajanta will get the cell phone details from O2, Vik will talk to his contacts on the dark side, Ben will do so equally and John, if you can continue working the witness angle? Try to find more young people willing to testify against Brandon Nicholson?”

  DS John Ryan nodded.

  “We will reconvene tomorrow at eight am for a Saturday briefing. Hopefully, we have something in hand that allows us to make some progress. I now have an appointment with the super to brief him. The ACC also insists on regular briefings from now on.”

  “Shall I join you?” DI Vik Gorti asked.

  “No thanks, Vik. I can handle it. You have plenty on your plate as it is, I believe.”

  Ianthe tried to be nice about it, but she saw his face fall. She groaned internally. They would definitely never be friends.

  *

  “I’m afraid we have no options but to let him go on bail, guv,” Ianthe said. “Lest we want Alistair Holloway to make a stink about it. He will probably go straight to Olivia or higher. And it will be rather difficult for her to withstand the pressure, if I understood well what her political and personal situation currently is.”

  Pooh Bear nodded back at her.

  “As long as we don’t have evidence linking him to the murder, I agree with your analysis. You played it well giving him house arrest paid for by the Nicholsons. I will arrange with local police to have a 24-hour watch outside their home and make sure they send them the invoice. The drug charges seem rather clear cut though. Mr Nicholson is likely to have to do time for those.”

  “I wouldn’t underestimate Alistair Holloway, guv. Even if it goes to Crown Court, as I expect, our suspect doesn’t have any priors. But that is at least some weeks if not months away and, in the meantime, we can try to stick the murder on him. In which case of course I will bring him in again to lock him up without bail.”

  He frowned at that.

  “I do hope you aren’t telling me you will need months to solve this, Ianthe. That won’t do.”

  “Of course, sir. It’s a tricky case though. And no additional leads yet. My team is hard at work though. While they follow up on the narcotics angle, I’ll try to tie up all other ends.”

  “Fine. Keep me posted. The ACC actually wants me to report on a daily basis to her on this particular case.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “How is it going with DI Gorti, by the way? Not giving you too much aggravation, I trust?”

  “Not at all, sir. Best of friends.”

  He smiled at that but did not comment.

  *

  At six thirty-four pm Ianthe was watching out of the window of her workspace on the second floor as Brandon Nicholson stepped into the waiting blue Mercedes of Alistair Holloway. The more she learned, the more profoundly she disliked Brandon and his family who thought they could get away with anything. It isn’t over for you yet, boy, she thought.

  She turned away from the window and took her smartphone out of her jeans. She dialled Geoff Simmons’s number to ask him if they were making any progress on the remainder of the traces they took from ‘Polaris’. When he picked up, she heard he was in a pub. Monday, he told her, when he had withdrawn to a quieter part. Not good. Monday seemed like an eternity away.

  She hoped Ajanta would be successful getting the cell phone data from the Nicholsons from O2 and wondered an instant who she might know there that would be able to get those to her on a Friday evening. Beneath all the make-up that girl proved to be quite resourceful actually.

  She considered for a moment what to do next. She did not feel like going home yet. She thought she would drive to the Marina again to have another look and also to have perhaps another chat with the harbour master.

  *

  Plenty of empty offices on the first floor on a Friday evening. DS Ajanta Ghani stepped into one and closed the door. She took her iPhone X10 out of her burgundy Gucci handbag, looked up the number she needed, then hesitated. She went over to stand next to the window and watched Brandon Nicholson climb into the backseat of the navy-blue Mercedes to sit next to his mother. Alistair Holloway was sitting in the front next to the driver. She waited until they had turned right into Church Lane. She sighed. She was not looking forward to this phone call, but she had told Ianthe she would try to get the cell phone data as quickly as possible and she was not going to let her down. She pressed the green call symbol. After three rings, the call was picked up and a female voice, well known to her said hello in a tentative way.

  “Hello sis,” Ajanta said, and waited. There was a distinct moment of surprised silence on the other end.

  “Ajanta, is that you?”

  Ajanta had never communicated this number to anyone in her family, so her sister could not have recognized it.

  “Yes, it is. How are you doing, Aswini? And the family?”

  “We’re fine. We’re all fine, Ajanta. It’s been an awfully long time. Where are you?”

  “Still in Brighton. Still at Sussex Police. I’m a Detective Sergeant now.”

  “Still with the same boyfriend?”

  “His name is Sean, Aswini. Yes, we’re still living together. I can give you the address if you want to visit.”

  Another terse moment of silence followed.

  “That won’t be necessary. Why are you calling me?”

  Ajanta swallowed, then said: “I’m involved in a major crime investigation with a drug angle. Can’t say much about it except that you probably have read about it in the paper. It actually made the national news. We urgently need location data and usage details for a few cell phones that have O2 as a Service Provider. We’re going to request these data through the official channels so I am getting a warrant and will be sending that over still tonight. But that means we won’t get those details before Monday. I was hoping you would be willing to pull a few strings and have them deliver
ed to me asap.”

  “I see. Can you send me a short email to confirm that request from your police email address? That puts me in the clear and I can use it to have the information sent to. You still have my work email address?”

  “I do. Sure, I’ll do that as soon as I hang up. Do you have something to write down the numbers?”

  “Better just email them to me lest I make mistakes.”

  Again, an uncomfortable silence. Then:

  “Ajanta, I miss you. We miss you. Please come home.”

  And with that her sister cut the connection.

  *

  DS John Ryan had parked his Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight Special in front. That was one of the advantages of riding a motorbike rather than coming by car, he thought. There was always room for a bike. He started putting on his gloves as he watched Brandon Nicholson get into what in looked to be a Canvasitblue Mercedes E53 AMG. He recognized the solicitor Alistair Holloway in the front seat next to what was obviously his driver. In the back seat a woman was sitting who he assumed to be Brandon’s mother Rowena Nicholson. It was interesting that the young man received a very cold welcome from his mother, that much he could see from the body language. Not even a peck on the cheek. He had a feeling the DCI was not ready yet with that spoiled brat Brandon Nicholson. He waited for them to take a left into Church Lane before picking up his helmet, climbing on the solo bobber seat and pushing the start button. That moment the engine rumbled into life continued to feel like magic. The plop-plop-plop sound invariably brought a smile to his face.

  He opened the gas and also turned right into Church Lane. He was planning to make a stop at a pub he knew close to Brighton University on Lewes Road. At this time there was a good chance students would be having a pint to celebrate the end of the week. He caught up with Alistair Holloway’s Mercedes at the Malling Hill crossing and overtook them taking a right into the A26 and right again after another mile into the A27 that turned into Lewes Road in Brighton. He parked his Harley across the road from The Bear Inn, on the corner of Lewes Road and Bear Road. It was one of his favourite haunts. The pub was in a quaint traditional corner house with a big welcome sign over the door. Inside it had been fully modernized and offered a rather wide range of food items as well as a couple of beers on tap. No Belgian beers unfortunately. But he was a fan of their Ultimate Gourmet Loaded Burger, a challenging grilled 6oz Aberdeen Angus beef burger, topped with chilli con carne, Emmental cheese, smoked streaky bacon and a southern fried chicken goujon, which he liked to wash down with a pint of John Smith bitter. There was also a cosy little beer garden at the back of the house.

  As he had expected, there was quite a crowd of young people tonight and the place had this friendly buzz of people talking excitedly about their plans for the weekend and beyond, as the end of term was already approaching rapidly. He went to the bar and ordered a pint of John Smiths. While they were pouring it, he looked around until he saw a face he recognized. He took a sip of his pint and walked over to a small group that was standing in the corner at the darts board behind the pool table. The two young man and the girl with the raven black hair gave him smiles and a hearty welcome.

  “How’s it going, John,” she said. “You haven’t come to arrest us, I hope,” she joked.

  He gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “Hi Jill. Nice to see you guys. Thought I’d find you here on a Friday night.”

  Jill Andrews was DC John Ryan’s erstwhile girlfriend. She was a tiny wisp of a girl with dark hair tumbling down her back and clear grey eyes. Her mouth was a bit wide and her teeth a little crooked, but she still had a very endearing smile. They had dated for a few months when John was still in college, but it had not lasted, and they finally broke up around the time he had dropped out and joined Sussex Police. She was now dating the guy standing next to her, Lucas Notaras, of Greek descent. The other guy was Bill Fleming, who John also knew from college. The four of them had gone out together in Brighton lots of times.

  “We hardly see you anymore, John!” Lucas said with a smile. There was absolutely no bad blood between them over Jill.

  “Well police work is quite intensive. In particular since I have joined CID.”

  “How is that boss guy doing you told us about. Indian sort of fellow, right?”

  “That’s detective inspector Vik Gorti. He’s all right I suppose. A bit of a pain in the ass sometimes. Tends to be very full of himself. But I’m working now with a new boss, a Detective Chief Inspector Ianthe Seymour. Very refreshing, I like her a lot.”

  “A woman police officer, huh. An old spinster no doubt?”

  “Not at all actually. She’s only a few years older than we are and has recently been promoted to chief inspector. Meteoric rise in Sussex police force I must say. And well deserved I’m starting to think, having seen how smart and creative she is.”

  “And easy on the eye, too?” Jill wanted to know.

  “Very much so,” he replied, taking another sip of his beer. “She’s about as small as you are Jill, but twice as smart,” he said with a smile.

  They laughed at that.

  “Soon we’ll see John dating an older woman!” Bill exclaimed.

  “Not too much risk for that one,” he responded. “She has a boyfriend all right.”

  He downed half of his beer now.

  “I needed to ask you lot something though. We’re investigating a murder that happened in the marina. You might have read about it.”

  “Is that the yachtsman who was killed probably because he was trafficking drugs?” Jill asked.

  “Well, that’s the guy all right, although we aren’t too sure yet about the trafficking bit, but never mind that. His daughter is a first year here at Brighton uni. We’re currently looking at people who are dealing on campus. I’m a bit rusty there, but I was hoping you would be able to tell me who you would go to if you wanted to buy coke. Not that any of you would buy coke, I know.” He added that hastily as he saw Bill frown a little.

  It was obvious they all hesitated a little.

  “Look, I get it, you don’t want to cause anyone any trouble. Let me make it easier for you. We’re thinking of a young man of around twenty-two from Brighton who drives a maroon Mercedes roadster, is very well connected and knows a lot of the young girls that previously attended Roedean school. Does that ring any bells?”

  They were all nodding now.

  “Sounds like Brandon Nicholson in Business Studies. Don’t know about coke, John, but he’s your guy if you want to have an extra good time partying, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. Listen, the guy is dangerous, right. Whether he is involved in a murder or not. We’re looking at people who would be willing to testify he has been dabbling in narcotics. I’ll give you a few cards of mine. If you know someone who would be willing to testify anonymously if necessary that they have purchased drugs from Mr Nicholson, then it would be great if you gave them my card and ask them to give me a call. All right?”

  They nodded and he handed out some of his cards. Then he downed the remainder of his pint and said his goodbyes. He stepped outside and was crossing the road to his bike when he heard his name called. He turned around and saw Jill coming after him. He waited for her to catch up with him.

  “Hey John. Listen, I didn’t want to tell you in front of the others, but I know the Devos family a bit. We were actually neighbours in Lewes when they were still living on Grange Road. They only moved a year or so ago. Helen and I attended the same primary school and I used to babysit her and her little brother when I was sixteen or so. Bert and Josephine were ever so nice to us when we were young. I just can’t believe he would turn out to be a drug trafficker.”

  “I guess you never really get to know other people, do you?”

  “Yeah, right. Anyways, what I really wanted to tell you is that I saw Helen a few times this year at College parties. She introduced me to Brandon Nicholson who was her boyfriend for a little while. And I’m ashamed to
say that I did buy some XTC from him at one time. Just the one pill to give it a try you know.”

  She saw him looking at her.

  “Don’t look at me that way, John. It was really just the one time. I decided immediately it wasn’t for me. The day after I felt horrendous. I’m only telling you because you asked if we knew someone who could confirm Brandon Nicholson was dealing drugs on campus.”

  “Would you be willing to come in and make a statement about it, Jill?”

  She hesitated.

  “Would my parents need to be informed?”

  John shook his head.

  “Not at all. You aren’t a minor unlike Helen. No one needs to know.”

  “OK then. Can you take my statement?”

  John nodded.

  “Sure. You can either make a statement at the police station of your choice, or you can come to Malling House in Lewes on Church Lane where I work. If you come tomorrow morning say at ten, I will be able to take your statement for you.”

  Jill agreed.

  “By the way, John, I think I know why Brandon Nicholson dumped Helen Devos.”

  He frowned.

  “Oh. She told us it was probably because she was not posh enough.”

  Jill shook her head at that.

  “I don’t think so. Helen might not actually even know this, but Brandon likes younger girls. And I mean noticeably young girls. Early teens.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “You know I still share a flat on Charles Street? I’ve seen him plenty of times in that area with some girls in Roedean uniform. He’s a seriously creepy guy, that one. I’ll better get back inside, or Lucas will be wondering if we’re hitting it off again.”

  They said their goodbyes, and while Jill crossed the road again and disappeared into The Bear Inn, John, climbed on his bike and drove off towards the seafront. He liked to drive his motorcycle along King’s Road and thought he would ride to the Marina just to have another look at it.