‘That’s what I’m thinking too’, agreed Holly.
***
Back at Greenings, there was a message from Valerie Parton. Holly’s boss had phoned the golf club to make arrangements for a helicopter landing there at noon. She had also wanted a taxi booked to take her and another passenger to the operations unit. Holly phoned the Secretary’s secretary to thank her for being so thoughtful, also to suggest cancelling the taxi. ‘I’ll come and get them myself’, she said.
Thinking about having a cup of tea, Holly went into the kitchen area where she found a young man in a dark suit sitting quietly at the table. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, revealing her surprise as the stranger stood up.
‘Baum!’ he boomed out.
‘I beg your pardon’, said Holly, nonplussed at the somewhat unexpectedly loud, barely intelligible noise emanating from such an immensely tall person who was now towering above her, his large, round face topped with close-cropped, pale blond hair, his ears sticking out sideways like handles.
‘Baum!’ he repeated. ‘Richard Baum.’
‘Oh, yes!’ Holly gathered herself. ‘I’m Angel… Holly!’ Then she held out her hand, to be enfolded completely in the new rookie detective’s massive grip.
‘Okay’, she said. ‘Wait there! Have a cup of tea or something. I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make.’
Richard Baum looked down at her blankly; then, to her relief, sat down again. ‘As you wish’, he said calmly before folding his hands in his lap and closing his eyes. As far as Holly could tell, he had instantly fallen asleep.
To find a quiet space, Holly made her way upstairs, to one of the house’s former bedrooms, carrying a foldaway chair to sit on while she made her calls. The first was to the head office of Regal Enterprises in Holborn. As expected, the receptionist told her that Mr Royle was away overseas, adding that his PA, Ms Pokorny, was away with him too. She asked Holly to wait, put her on hold, then connected her through to Patrick Gryllock’s office. A moment later, she was speaking to Gryllock’s PA, Madeleine Smith, who turned out to be much less defensive than Holly had anticipated.
‘If you ring back at about five this afternoon’, she said in a sprightly voice, ‘I’m expecting Mr Gryllock back by then. I’m sure he’ll speak to you. He’s gone to collect some Chinese clients from Heathrow this morning and he’s taking them straight out to lunch.’
‘What about Mr Royle?’ Holly asked. ‘When are you expecting him back?’
‘Oh, he’ll be in tomorrow. He and Patrick have a big meeting with the Chinese people here at noon.’
Holly was astonished, but delighted; especially when Mrs Smith added that Mr Royle was flying into Heathrow from Chicago early the following morning. ‘That man has to know something’, Holly was thinking, looking forward to arranging the interview.
Downstairs at Greenings again, she logged into the Sussex Police network. Once online, she looked up the British Airways website, feeling sure that the patriotic Jamie Royle would not use any other airline. There were two possible flights that Monday evening: BA0294, leaving at 17.10 hrs, arriving Tuesday morning at 06.45; and BA 0296, leaving at 20.45, arriving at 10.20. ‘He’ll have to catch the earlier one’, she thought, ‘If he’s going to make a meeting in London by midday.’
Holly’s next call was directly to the BA offices in London, to try and confirm her suspicions; but in this she was unsuccessful. British Airways staff are not allowed to disclose passenger details, including flight details, to unauthorized personnel. Holly tried to explain that, as a Police Officer, she was authorized, but it made no difference, so her next call was to Brian Thatcher, a friend from her days as a police probationer. Brian was now with the anti-terrorist squad in London.
‘Hi Holly’, he said when she got through. ‘How are things?’
‘Great!’ replied Holly. ‘And how is married life?’ They had last seen each other at his wedding nine months earlier.
‘Terrific, actually, Holl… You should try it’, her friend continued, forgetting that she was divorced. ‘We’ve one already on the way!’
‘Oh… Congratulations!’ Holly was genuinely pleased. ‘That’s wonderful, Brian. Do give Tessa my love. When is it due?’
‘In March… But what are you phoning about?’ Brian, clearly busy, suddenly sounded more serious. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t just to be sociable.’
Holly admitted that she had another reason for the call, asking if Brian had access to transatlantic passenger lists, as she suspected he might. ‘Oh yes’, he said. ‘Give me the name and I’ll call you back’.
She only had to wait twenty minutes when the reply came through as a text:
‘Royle confirmed on BA 0294 tonight – travelling 1st class. Booking made by Catherine Pokorny on same flight – Economy.
Brian xx.’
As it was already after half-past eleven, Holly went immediately in search of Richard Baum. He was still sitting, Buddha-like, in the kitchen.
‘How tall are you’, she asked the rookie without ceremony as she swept into the room. ‘I think my car’s too small to fit you in.’
‘194.5 centimetres’, he replied, opening his eyes.
‘How tall is that in feet and inches? Roughly, anyway…’ she asked again.
‘Roughly?’ Baum paused, apparently surprised and disappointed that she wanted less than precision. ‘It is six feet, four-and-a-half inches to the nearest half-inch.’
‘What car do you drive, then?’ Holly asked a third time.
‘It’s a BMW’, he responded,
‘You must be wealthy, then’, she challenged.
‘It’s a very old model’, he countered, ‘A diesel, with a hundred and twenty three thousand miles on the clock’.
‘I take it back’, she said, noticing now that his suit was ill-fitting and rather cheap looking. ‘Come on… You’re driving me to the golf club’.
In the car, Holly brought Baum up to speed with the case. They arrived in minutes, but then sat in the parked car while he asked a few pertinent questions. Going into the clubhouse eventually, Holly suggested that he visit the bar and lounge areas, introduce himself to staff and members, get a feel for the place while keeping his ears open. Disobeying her, however, he went straight back outside as she made her way up the stairs. As hoped, once in the Secretary’s office, she found both Peter Harding and Valerie Parton.
‘I’ve had John Tranter cordon off a space adjacent to the practice range for the landing’, said the Colonel as she entered. ‘We’re expecting the helicopter any minute.’
From the window, Mrs Parton said she thought she could see it approaching, so they quickly went outside. Richard Baum was already standing there. ‘I heard it coming as you were going up the stairs’, he said.
Holly could just make out the machine coming towards them from the east, flying low, still a long way off, but she could not yet hear the sound of its motor.
‘Thank you, Radar’, she said, unable to keep the sarcasm totally out of her voice, ‘Can you also see who is in it?’
Quite seriously, Baum replied, ‘The pilot, of course; and there’s DCI Holroyd and DI Garbutt.’
‘How on earth do you know that?’ Holly was growing faintly alarmed at these apparently supernatural powers.
‘DI Garbutt told me they were coming when I saw her first thing this morning’, Baum said.
‘Ah!’ breathed Holly quietly, smiling now to herself. ‘Elementary, Sherlock… Of course!’
‘Don’t you mean Watson?’ Big Ears Baum had been listening. ‘It’s usually, “Elementary my dear Watson”, isn’t it?’
‘No’, returned Holly, a little irritated. ‘I’m Sherlock… You’re Watson. Get it?’
The police chopper came down a few minutes later. When the rotor blades came to a halt, the senior officers alighted, Holroyd calling back to the pilot to thank him and tell him
to wait for them, get something to eat and charge it to expenses. They would be back no more than two hours later, he was saying, probably sooner.
Holly made the introductions. The Colonel, leading them inside, took the party on a short tour of the clubhouse building, finishing up at his office. This was where Holly first had the chance to mention her news about Jamie Royle, and to say that he would be back in the country the following day. Her immediate boss was non-committal at the news, but Holroyd seemed very pleased. ‘Well done indeed, Detective Angel’, he said, ‘Very well done indeed!’ He then suggested that, with her boss, she arrange to interview Royle at the airport.
‘Can we do that, Sir?’ Holly wasn’t sure.
‘I don’t see why not’, Holroyd replied. ‘This is a murder investigation, isn’t it?’
Holly refrained from mentioning Dr Narayan’s ongoing doubts about the split cartilage; or the fact that, due to being in Chicago surrounded by witnesses, Royle had a cast-iron alibi.
The senior officers soon went back down with the Colonel, who showed them the professional’s shop and arranged for Kyle Scott to drive Laura Garbutt out to the fifth fairway in one of the golf buggies while he ferried Hugh Holroyd to the crime scene in another. Left alone, Holly sent Baum back down to the club’s social areas, taking the opportunity to speak in private to Valerie Parton.
‘I should have thought of this before’, she said, ‘But have you got a mobile number for Gary Brooker?’
‘I’m afraid not’, said the secretary. ‘I could ring Mrs Brooker for you, though, and try to find out.’
‘Why don’t you just give me the Brookers’ home number’, Holly replied. ‘I can take it from there.’ Minutes later, she got through to Meredith Brooker on her landline at home.
‘Merry here!’ came a cheery, and unmistakeably Scottish, voice. ‘Hellooo…!’
Holly introduced herself. Without wasting any time, she then enquired if Mrs Brooker had heard from her husband in Chicago recently.
‘Oh, yes…’ she said. ‘We Skype almost every day. He’s having a grand time at the Ryder Cup. Did you see it?’
Holly admitted that she had.
‘Wasn’t it marvellous? I dinna play the game, but I found it awfully intriguing… Are you a golfer yoursel’, by any chance?’ She pronounced the word ‘goffer’, taking Holly slightly by surprise. ‘Listen! I’m not’, she said quickly. ‘But I need to confirm something, if that’s alright… Is your husband coming home tomorrow?’
‘No… I’m not expecting him back for a couple of weeks’, came the reply, causing Holly’s heart to sink a little. ‘He’s on to Oregon and the Pacific Coast tomorrow with Louise Broad. Jamie and Catherine are returning, though, just for two days. Gary says it’s something to do with business. They’ll be out there again – or at least Jamie will – by the end of the week.’
Breathing a sigh, Holly was relieved. ‘What’s he like, Jamie Royle?’ she thought to ask.
‘He’s my man’s employer, and a generous one’, replied the canny Scots lady. ‘What do you want me to say? Most people think he’s delightful.’
‘But you don’t?’ Holly had spotted a deliberate omission.
‘I’m over fifty, Lassie!’ she answered… ‘With a couple of grown-up kiddies… And I’ve been around the block enough times not to fall for every charmer that comes along. He’s been good to Gary, I’ll say that again; but I hate to think what would happen if they started losing many of those big money matches they play. Gary’d be to blame in Jamie’s eyes, no question, and it would be the sack for sure after that.’
‘You’ve been very helpful, Mrs Brooker’, Holly signed off. ‘Thank you.’
Merry Brooker wondered though if, as usual, she might have said slightly too much.
***
Ever attentive, staff-member Liam had provided Richard Baum with some lunch – delicious spicy Thai fishcakes – by the time Holly rejoined him. She accepted a prawn sandwich herself, as they sat in the bar to wait for the senior officers, but had to have her food wrapped up in tinfoil ‘to go’ as Holroyd and her boss re-appeared quite quickly.
There was silence in the car while Baum drove the short distance to the incident suite, Holroyd beside him, the two women awkward with each other in the rear. Back at Greenings, one of the forensic officers had arrived and a briefing was about to take place. The red chairs had been examined thoroughly, and a couple of relevant findings had emerged.
Starting with the least startling of these, close-up photographs, taken in deliberately oblique lighting conditions to show up shadows, and therefore indentations, had revealed a pattern of possible strap-marks.
‘This is how we think they were moved’, said the officer, ‘With leather or strong canvas webbing… The visible marks are fewer on the chair without the body; that’s the one on the right if you were standing behind them, facing away from the fifth green where we found them. We think two sets of straps were placed under the base, because they seemed to be cutting in at the sides, higher up, where the sides begin to bulge out at arm-height.’
The officer put up on the screen a close-up of the arms of the chair, showing two sets of very faint marks that really needed the eye of faith, Holly thought, to discern.
‘The other one, the left, is a little clearer’, the man continued. ‘This one seems to have been upended and suspended upside-down.’ He put up new pictures, then took out a laser-pointer, indicating what he meant on another close-up. This time, there were again two sets of indentations, but deeper, and right across the surface of the chair’s two arms. ‘You couldn’t have seen this in daylight’, he added. ‘I think it means you’re looking for a transport vehicle with a hoist.’
The next photo showed the underside of one of the chairs. It was the right-hand one again. This time, in high magnification a close-up revealed, as the red laser-spot hovered over it, an irregular stain, smaller in diameter than a 10p coin, overlapping the leather chair-covering where it was stapled securely to the base and the wood of the underside itself. Barely showing, reddish-brown against the red leather, it would have been easy to miss without the tiny splash on the lighter-coloured timber as well.
‘It’s blood’, said the man, as one or two less seasoned among the audience gasped. ‘Great!’ thought Holly.
‘But it is not human blood.’ This was an unwelcome surprise. Holly was already imagining DNA evidence pinning down the perpetrator. ‘No’, said the voice from the other side of the darkened room. ‘This is the blood of a horse.’
The 15th
Chapter
There was a stunned silence in the room for a moment. ‘Are you quite sure about that?’ DCI Holroyd asked eventually. Ignoring the challenge to his expertise, the forensic man continued, telling the assembled team that although fingerprints and DNA samples had been obtained from the body of Jane X, she remained unidentified. Dental records were still being checked.
Holly suggested looking into psychiatric records too, because Jane was anorexic. Someone then asked if they needed to continue looking into removals companies and their vans. Holroyd said they could stop, and to concentrate on anyone – private owner or commercial organization – with horse boxes or trailers. Richard Baum then came up with the suggestion to include veterinary surgeons, an idea which the Chief Inspector duly commended.
Holly then asked about the possibility, as they seemed to be hiding something, of hacking into Jamie Royle’s and Patrick Gryllock’s phones. Holroyd seemed reluctant. ‘Tabloid newspaper tactics’, he called it, reminding Holly that they would need warrants. ‘I’ll get those’, intervened DI Garbutt, to everyone’s surprise. ‘I’ll speak to a magistrate this afternoon.’
After the meeting, Holly decided to return with Baum and the superior officers to the helicopter parked at the SRGC. This was perhaps out of courtesy, but she was also thinking she and her new protégé had started off on the wrong foo
t. This might give her the opportunity to clear the air and retrieve the situation a little.
They stood side by side and watched the chopper take off, circle and begin flying back up towards the Downs, then walked back to the BMW. Once inside, before Baum had the chance to turn on the ignition and start the motor, putting her hand on his outstretched arm, Holly asked him to wait.
‘Tell me about yourself, Richard’, she said trying to be nice, turning towards him in her seat. ‘We are going to be working together, so it would be good to get to know you better.’
Richard Baum undid his seat belt again, the easier to face and look his new mentor in the eye. ‘What do you want to know?’ he said obligingly.
‘Anything’, Holly replied. ‘Someone said you were in Kent before, and came here because of your parents.’
‘Yes… That’s correct’, said the rookie, seeming surprisingly vulnerable at that moment, and younger than his twenty-three years. ‘I grew up near Ashford. I have an older sister, Natalie. My father was a ‘horologist’; that’s a person who buys, sells, repairs and maintains old clocks. He’s from Holland originally… Came to London as a young man, met my mum, who is English, and decided to stay. Once I was at school, my mother worked as well, helping dad in the shop sometimes, but she also became a teaching assistant in a nearby primary school.’
‘Go on’, said Holly, encouragingly. ‘What else?’
‘Well, my sister is a solicitor, and she’s gay. She’s in a civil partnership with an older woman, a corporate lawyer, called Gayle. They have a baby now – my nephew, I suppose. He’s called Luke… That’s why my parents moved here, to be close to the grandson. They have a house in a place called Small Dole. Natalie and Gayle live in Hove, you see.’
The Red Chairs Mystery Page 20