Deadfall

by Lyndon Stacey

  Josie shook her head. 'You say that, but I don't think it's true. I think you both care a lot more about each other than you let on.'

  Linc adopted a stern tone. 'For God's sake, woman! I want a wife, not a psychoanalyst!' he declared, then grunted as a slim fist hit him in the solar plexus.

  They decided to announce the engagement at the weekend, when the excitement over Abby had died down a little, and when it might be possible to arrange an informal gathering of the two families.

  'How do you think your parents will take it?' Linc asked.

  'Well, it seems as though you're almost part of the family as it is, so I shouldn't imagine they'd kick up too much of a fuss,' she said, affecting an offhand manner. 'Although I think Daddy always rather hoped I'd marry a doctor or a lawyer.'

  'Oh, dear. Perhaps you'd better try and sneak back in quietly and we'll forget all about it,' Linc suggested.

  Josie snorted. 'Not much chance of that with Hannah around! She'll no doubt bring up the subject at the next family meal.'

  Linc laughed. 'Not destined for the diplomatic service, young Hannah.'

  'You can say that again! Gossip columnist for a national daily, I'd say!'

  Josie had been all for leaving early, by the back stairs and side door, but as Linc pointed out, her car was clearly visible to any interested observer, parked in the stableyard where she had left it the night before.

  So she had toast and coffee with him, enjoying the view from the kitchen window, and followed him downstairs with a casual air, as if she regularly stayed over. In fact, her masterly performance was all but wasted because the only person they met on their way out was Mary, and she greeted the pair without so much as a lifted eyebrow.

  'Does Mary live in the house?' Josie asked, as she and Linc emerged into the bright stillness of a perfect May morning.

  'No, she has a cottage in the yard but she often eats with my father. They seem to have got quite close in the last few years. I've noticed the difference since I've been back.' They had reached her car. 'So, I'll see you in a minute, okay?'

  'Okay. I'll tell Noddy you're on your way.' Josie smiled and made to turn away but Linc caught hold of her arm and pulled her back.

  'Where do you think you're going?' he demanded.

  She laughed, put her arms round his neck and kissed him soundly. 'That better?'

  Linc nodded. 'It'll do for now.'

  'I think last night went rather well, don't you, Mary?'

  Linc had ridden Noddy and was back in his office attending to his mail.

  'Mmm. It certainly seems to have gone well for you anyway,' she observed, eyes twinkling.

  'Miss Poe! Most secretaries would be severely reprimanded for a comment like that!'

  They both knew she was a lot more than a secretary to the Tremaynes, both Senior and Junior.

  'She's a lovely girl. You're serious about her, I take it?'

  'Well, I've asked her to marry me,' Linc said. 'It doesn't get much more serious than that! But don't say anything to anyone just yet. We'll probably announce it at the weekend.'

  'Oh, Linc, that's wonderful news! Your father will be pleased. No, don't worry, I won't say anything.'

  He put down the last of the morning's correspondence and stood up. 'Do you really think he will?'

  Mary nodded. 'I'm sure of it. He's very taken with Josie. He said as much to me the other day.'

  'Well, it's a good job he talks to you or I'd never know what he's thinking,' Linc said with a touch of bitterness. 'I think this family would fall apart at the seams if it wasn't for you. Would have done long ago, come to that!'

  'Linc . . .'

  Mary stopped, maybe searching for the right words, and he cut in, saying briskly, 'Well, anyway, I must get on. I'm supposed to be meeting the heritage guy at the mill in five minutes, so that's where I'll be if anyone wants me.'

  The 'anyone' turned out to be DI Rockley. He arrived just as Linc was winding up his meeting at the mill, having first called at the house and been forwarded by Mary. When the man from English Heritage got into his car and went on his way, Rockley emerged from his and came over to where Linc stood, glancing appreciatively at the mill buildings as he did so.

  'Always wanted to live in a mill,' he remarked.

  'You can have this one if you want,' Linc offered, as they began to walk along the front of the building.

  'Having trouble?'

  He shook his head, sighing. 'No, not really. Just endless red tape. This would have been finished by now if it wasn't for form-filling and waiting on visits from this or that official. It's such a waste of everybody's time. If they didn't have to pay all these people the grants would be twice the size!'

  Rockley nodded in sympathy. 'The world is slowly being dragged to a halt by red tape. And the police force is a prime example. How long before you get this beauty going again?' They had reached the first footbridge and he was looking at the wheel.

  'Next month, all being well, but there are no guarantees.'

  'Are you having a grand opening? I'd like to come, if you do.'

  'I'll let you know,' Linc promised. 'So, what can I do for you? Or are top brass visiting the station again?'

  They wandered on to the second bridge and paused to watch the water gushing from the pipe into the by-pass stream.

  'Manston tells me you've been in trouble again,' Rockley commented.

  'Yes, but not of my making.'

  'Have you heard from the doctor?'

  'Not yet. Have you?'

  'As a matter of fact, yes. And he had nothing to tell. The results of your blood test showed no suspicious substances in your system.'

  'There must have been! I wasn't drunk, if that's what you think.'

  'No. That would have showed in your test, too.'

  Linc was bewildered. 'So what are you saying? That I had some sort of attack or seizure?' The thought was deeply disturbing.

  'Not necessarily. There are a couple of substances that are very difficult to detect. Rohypnol and GHB; the date-rape drugs. Because their effects can mimic those of alcohol abuse, they often go unsuspected, and unless specific tests are carried out within a few hours, their use is almost impossible to prove.'

  'But the blood test . . . ?'

  'It has to be a urine test,' Rockley stated. 'And it isn't something that hospitals are set up to test for. Usually it's done by a police lab. So you see, unless someone has, or is given, an amount which constitutes an overdose, such as in your case, these drugs probably wouldn't even be considered.'

  'Would it have been in my drink?'

  'Probably. GHB in particular is very easy to disguise. It's a clear liquid, and although it has a salty taste, you need so little of it, you could put it in almost any fruity or alcoholic drink and the recipient would be none the wiser.'

  'Like fruit punch.'

  'Yes, like fruit punch.'

  'But why do it? What did they hope to achieve? Not . . . not rape, surely.' Linc could hardly bring himself to say the word and his face reflected the abhorrence he felt.

  'It's unlikely.'

  Rockley bent and picked up half a dozen stones from the path and began to toss them, one by one, into the running water.

  'Although it is known as a date-rape drug, GHB – Gamma hydroxy butyrate – is quite widely taken in our larger cities as a recreational drug, because in low to medium doses, as I said, it produces an effect not unlike that of alcoholic intoxication. The problem is that as a liquid GHB comes in very varied degrees of concentration. Unless you know and trust your source it is frighteningly easy to overdose.'

  'But where does it come from? It's a banned substance, obviously, so . . .'

  'Ah, but it's not.' Rockley dropped the last of the pebbles and turned to face Linc. 'It's a prescribed sedative. But it's unfortunately also fairly easy to make and there are internet sites that tell you exactly how to go about it. The boys at the lab tell me it's basically a degreasing solvent mixed with drain cleaner!'

  'O
h, God! No wonder I was ill!'

  'They also tell me that it's a substance produced in minute quantities by the body itself, but that doesn't, as some of its proponents argue, make it safe to consume. The main danger is that it's extremely dose-sensitive, and by that I mean that the dose needed to induce dangerous effects is only slightly greater than the dose some people regularly enjoy taking. Any other contributing factors, such as combining it with other drugs, or alcohol consumption, or even something as simple as taking it on an empty stomach, can drastically increase the effect it has on an individual.'

  'I don't know whether I'd eaten,' Linc told him. 'But I suppose there was probably alcohol in the punch. I don't remember.'

  'Your sister-in-law said there was a little.'

  'I still don't see the point of it all.'

  'Well, as a date-rape drug it renders the victim extremely susceptible to suggestion. They experience a lack of inhibition and find it almost impossible to exert their own will. To add to our difficulties, victims also suffer amnesia. It's a bugger! The effects of overdose are – among other things – prolonged unrouseable sleep, possible respiratory disorders, vomiting, and death. Many hospitals don't recognise the symptoms and there have been a number of fatalities in the States – where it's no longer available on prescription, by the way.'

  Linc was frowning, struggling to take it all in.

  'So, given that I fit all the criteria, what do you think the intention was? Was the overdose deliberate?'

  Rockley sighed. 'I wish I could tell you. Whatever the answer, I'd say you were lucky your friend Sandy Wilkes came along.'

  'He said he found me in the passenger seat,' Linc mentioned, remembering.

  'Yes. It was in his statement. Any idea why?'

  Linc leaned over the railing, staring at the water. The idea forming in his brain was unpalatable, to say the least, and he was reluctant to give voice to it, as if doing so would somehow give it substance.

  'What if I changed sides because I was told to; so someone else could drive the car with me in it.' He paused, thinking hard.

  'Go on,' Rockley prompted.

  'Well, what if the car was stopped by the bridge on purpose and I was supposed to get back into my side but by then I was unconscious?'

  He looked up and found Rockley watching him intently.

  'Do you remember old River Joe? I can't recall his real name, but you remember what happened to him?'

  Rockley nodded. 'Indeed I do. And I'm right with you. If you'd gone over into the river in your car, with its soft-top, you'd have been very lucky to have got out alive.'

  Linc was appalled at where this was leading, but he'd gone too far to stop now. 'It's a very quiet lane,' he went on. 'If there was someone else, they could quite reasonably have expected to have plenty of time to set it all up. Especially if I was unconscious. It was just a matter of luck that Sandy came along at that moment. He said he didn't see anyone else, but maybe whoever it was panicked. It would be easy enough to drop down into the river and under the bridge until the coast was clear.'

  'And if it had gone to plan, it would appear that you'd driven off the road accidentally. Sad, but it had happened before. By the time you were found there would quite possibly be no trace of the drug in your body to give the game away, even if anyone thought to test for it.' Rockley paused. 'It's certainly possible. In fact, I'm very much afraid you could be right. But why, Linc? Tell me. What have you done or found out? Why should someone risk so much to get rid of you? Because that's what it boils down to, you know. Someone is terrified of what you might do or say. So, if you know anything – anything at all – you must tell me.'

  'I wish to God I could!' Linc exclaimed. 'But I honestly don't. I'm not exactly ecstatic about the idea that someone may be trying to bump me off! You heard about the latest note, I suppose?'

  'Yes. Forensics have had a look at it and come up with absolutely zilch, except that it apparently comes from the Mail instead of the Sun this time. I'm not sure if there's any significance in that or not.' He groaned, running his fingers through his hair. 'I'm finding it hard to think straight at all at the moment, to be honest. We've got a new Chief Super and he's determined to make his mark. Talk about a new broom . . . It's enough to drive you mad. Or, in the words of one of my younger colleagues, "It's doing my head in." I suppose he'll get over it eventually.' He sighed heavily and looked at his watch. 'Well, I must get going. And you, to quote the last note, "Watch your back", okay? We're doing what we can but we haven't had a lot to go on and quite frankly it's baffling. You say you've not been nosing around . . .'

  'And I haven't.'

  'Then why do they still feel threatened? Why risk breaking cover to attack you, when there's no real need? Especially now young Abby's on the mend. Are you sure you've told us everything?'

  'Absolutely,' Linc assured him.

  'Oh, well . . .' Rockley sighed, turning away from the stream and back towards his car. 'As I said, look after yourself. Try to stay away from lonely places, dark alleys and the like. We'll be in touch.'

  He held out his hand and Linc shook it. The night they had first met, he would have taken long odds against ever liking the detective, but surprisingly he found he now did.

  'Have there been any more tack thefts recently?' he asked.

  'No. Not on my patch. They've either moved on or decided to lay low for the time being. Why?' the detective added suspiciously.

  'Just curious.'

  'Hmm.' Rockley didn't sound convinced, but nevertheless, after a long hard look at Linc, waved a hand and moved away.

  Linc reviewed their conversation in his mind as he watched the big silver car nose its way out of sight into Mill Lane. Then suddenly there was a slithering noise from above, followed by a warning shout, and he flashed a glance upwards even as he ducked sideways into the shelter of the wall. Two tumbling, spinning black shapes missed him by a whisker, shattering dramatically on the stones at his feet.

  A roof tile, or two – it was difficult to tell, the pieces had scattered over quite an area. Linc prudently waited a moment and moved a foot or two along the wall before venturing away from the protection of the overhang. Looking up, he could see two of the roofing team gazing anxiously back at him and waved a hand.

  'Bloody hell! You all right, mate?' one of them called. 'It didn't hit you, did it?'

  Linc shook his head. 'No. You'll have to try harder than that!' he called in reply. But, joking aside, he should have been wearing a hard hat on site. It was a stipulation of the contractors, the grantors, and the funding partners.

  'Bloody thing snapped in two when I picked it up,' the workman shouted. 'Must have been a dud, sorry.'

  'S'okay. How's it going?'

  'Pretty good. End of the week, I reckon.'

  'That's brilliant! Well done!' Linc waved a hand and moved on, pleased. They were ahead of target. Weather permitting, they would finish a full two days early.

  As he reached the Discovery, he paused.

  'Watch your back' Rockley had advised; the note had said the same. Not much point watching his back if the danger came from above.

  It may only have been an accident but if he'd been a fraction of a second slower, the tile could have split his skull.