I’d been away for some months and was shocked when I got back to see Verity looking, quite frankly, a wreck. Adelaide was also in America, but in New York, busy trying to make it as a talk-show host, and had no idea what was going on. Verity always made excuses not to come to New York and managed to deflect suggestions of visits from Adelaide. Whenever they spoke, Adelaide told me, Verity always turned off the vision so it was voice only.
Alarm bells were ringing so I got my US security people to set up twenty-four hour surveillance on the apartment and on him. They managed to bug him for sound—buttons were replaced on his clothes, his car was tracked—all that sort of stuff. I drew the line at visuals in the apartment, more’s the pity. I really feared for Verity as it turned out he was, ahem, unable to perform without getting himself aroused by violence.
Verity stopped the recording again and looked at Nicholas whose face was now black as thunder. ‘Nick,’ she said softly, stroking away the lines that had formed between his eyebrows, ‘It’s in the past. I’ve put it away. Let’s finish this.’
I arranged for a woman to move into the apartment across the hall—easy, as I owned the building—and to make friends with Verity. She was one of the security staff in my Edinburgh HQ, a divorcee, a talented athlete and a competent paramedic. When I found out her qualifications I asked her to work directly for me for a few weeks so I could assess her potential. I was very impressed with her; she was far too good for mundane security guard work.
I sent her to Boston, had to pull a few strings to get her into the country on a temporary work visa. I had her briefed by my head of security there. Of course Verity knew nothing of that side of it, but they became quite good friends.
Nicholas, you’ve met her, it’s Amy Lightfoot, of course.
‘Now that was a good day’s work … a very clever move on Marcus’s part.’
‘Amy and I hit it off,’ said Verity. ‘She was a lifeline for me then, a touch of normality. She helped me to relax and we just talked about ordinary things. That and my work kept me sane.’
Maguire never met Amy—that was part of the strategy. It became obvious to her that he was abusing Verity, but, he was careful and there were never any marks on her face or arms. When he was at home he always left to go to his various clubs in the early evening and Amy would pretend to come home from work a bit after that. In fact she would make sure he’d gone—his shadow would signal her and she would tap on the door or ring to let Verity know she was home. They’d often have a drink or a meal together.
Amy got word that Maguire had left for New York, no doubt for one of his more dubious jobs. She thought she might persuade Verity to go out to dinner and a movie for a change but there was no answer when she knocked on the door that evening. Amy thought nothing of it as Verity sometimes stayed on at the university late if she wanted to do some extra work. Next morning she got a call to say Maguire was dead, the police found his body in an alley behind a nightclub in New York. He was shot in the leg first, presumably to stop him, then his throat was slit. No one saw a thing of course. They never did in that neighbourhood.
Amy tried banging on the door and ringing Verity. As a last resort she used a master key to go in. She found her tied hand and foot to their bed, the room was freezing and she was barely conscious. Her injuries were bad—I won’t go into details—but it looked as though he realised he’d gone too far this time and was on the run..
She spent days in hospital recovering mainly from the effects of hypothermia. They had to operate on her and do some repair work too. The mental scars took longer.
I also have the hard copy of months of reports from the people that were keeping track of him, but you don’t need that. You don’t need to see the sordid details of his life.
Nicholas, Verity is a strong-minded, tough and courageous woman, but with an understandably fragile ego where relationships are concerned. She has pulled herself out of a deep pit of despondency with some help, of course, but she has mostly done it herself. She is as dear to me as if she were my own daughter. It would be the greatest joy of my life to entrust her to your care.
Marcus’s voice stopped there. They sat in silence for a few minutes then Nicholas said, as if in response, ‘He can, but I wish I’d been the one …’
She pressed a finger to his mouth, ‘Shh, no, Nicholas. Don’t say it. And now, I’d like to wipe this, to destroy it completely.’
‘I agree. We have no need to hear it again.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind doing it for me. See the panel there,’ she pointed, ‘Just stick it in the slot at the top.’
He dropped the stick in the slot and waited. ‘Nothing’s happening.’
Verity raised her voice slightly, ‘Toby, destroy please.’
There was a soft crunching sound.
‘Can I ask you a question or is it too painful?’
‘No, I have bad memories and a few scars, as you no doubt noticed, but I am not haunted by it any more. I think I know what you’re going to ask … my fear of high windows.’
Astonished, he said, ‘Yes, how did you know?’
‘Milton has the same floor to ceiling windows and I actually passed out the first time I went into his office. So people do ask but I just say it’s acrophobia.
‘My apartment in Boston was on the forty-first floor and had windows like that too. Terry used to pin my arms and ankles to the windows with strong adhesive tape then threaten to shoot out the glass if I didn’t do what he wanted. I mean, like sign over money to him … and other things. There was no balcony, nothing to stop a drop to the ground.’
‘How can you be so calm?’ he said in an anguished voice.
‘That’s no longer me, Nick, it’s another person with the same name, but it’s not this me. Dr Rainbird helped me so much. I could never have reached this place, this plateau of peace without her. Or been here with you like this.
‘No,’ she said, noting the look of surprise on Nicholas’s face. ‘Not the ME, his sister, Rebecca, she’s a psychiatrist.’ She smiled then. ‘Isn’t that a lovely name, Rebecca Rainbird.
‘I want to stay with you all day but I have to go. Work is calling.’
‘It’s only seven,’ she said.
‘Yes, but I’ve been so distracted by what happened to you.’ He cupped her chin, stroked her cheek. ‘And now I need to get back to some real work. I want to look at Gray through your eyes. Well, him and Nash.’
He looked at her more closely. ‘Okay, you’ve done something. Now tell me what you’ve found.’
‘You’re getting too good at this—reading me. Remember I asked Merlin to do some checking?’
‘On Orlando Gray and Lara Nash?’
‘Yes. Marcus told me he recruited her in Chicago, so they probably met there. Hard to believe it but she is obviously in thrall to him. Maybe he hypnotised her.’ She frowned in thought. ‘Yes, I remember now, Marcus said Gray was discussing whether to go into electronic research with some idea he had. He was making tentative noises about seed money, getting in on the ground floor.’
‘You mean, setting up his own electronics lab? That’d take millions.’
‘I’m trying to remember … I think it was some gadget … hang on.’ She raised her voice slightly. ‘Merlin, activate search of archives please. Orlando Gray, electronic development about a year or two ago. Text only, on the maxi-Tyle, thanks.’
A soft beep signalled that the data was ready. Verity quickly scrolled through it then said, ‘Ah, yes. He and a partner were developing something, ostensibly a medical, or rather, a psychiatric tool. Designed to induce a deep hypnotic state very rapidly during certain types of therapy. The government confiscated the prototype and it was buried.’
Adams said thoughtfully, ‘I can understand why. A dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. I think the gov …’
Verity put a finger over his lips and shook her head. ‘Not even here, Nick.’
He looked around the room, a question in his eyes, but Verity rapidly changed
the subject.
‘Okay. Do you think he kept one? Used it on Lara? Maybe others? If that’s the case and he is the murderer why torture them? It’s way out there, Verity. But it’s a hypothesis, the only tentative lead we’ve got, apart from searching amongst hundreds of shareholder. I’ll make an official request for background information on both of them too. Yes I know you’ve probably sent everything to my personal Tyle …’
‘No, Nick, not me. Merlin. Remember the three of us are in synch.’
He smiled and dropped a kiss on her upturned face. ‘We sure are. But now, my darling, I really must go. I’ll call you later today. Try to rest.’
‘Rest! Ha, just wait. Thirty seconds after I release the security they’ll be here. Watch.’
As she predicted, seconds later they heard the back door open and Amy came in with her basket. She looked at them both and smiled.
Nicholas said goodbye and walked out through the sun-filled courtyard to collect his car. Sure enough, as he reached the garage he looked back and saw Adelaide and Lucy going in.
Then he pondered the information Merlin had found. He wasn’t entirely convinced Gray was involved but Verity seemed adamant. He would bring it up at the meeting this morning, couldn’t hurt. All those intrusions on Verity’s computer. And Mrs Halifax was concerned about blips, as she put it.
Yes, maybe there was something there.
Chapter 37
‘Good morning, Commander. How is Dr Burne? I hope she is recovering from that horrible attack, poor thing.’
‘She’s doing quite well, thank you, Mrs H. I’ve just left her, as a matter of fact, and Amy Lightfoot looking after her.’
She smiled at him and said, ‘That’s good news. Now I have a few messages for you.’
‘Heavens, Mrs Halifax, don’t you ever go home. It’s just after seven-thirty.’
‘I don’t live far away and my cat wakes me right on five every morning. So I’m usually here by seven-thirty.’
Nicholas was ashamed to realize he didn’t know where Mrs Halifax lived, or that she had a cat. All this time and he still knew next to nothing about her … her personal life, that is. He remembered something then.
‘I met your friend Mrs Tennant, Elise, the other day when I visited Marcus in his office. She looks a lot like you.’
She said, ‘Yes, Elise and I are half sisters and worked together for many years.’ She gave him one of her bland looks. ‘Like me, she had more or less decided to resign from government service when Sir Marcus offered her a position as his personal assistant. When he is away she stays here to keep things running smoothly for him. She doesn’t like to travel.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Halifax. I’m sorry I haven’t asked you any of this before but you always struck me as such a private person.’
‘Elise told me something odd last night. I wouldn’t break a confidence as a rule but it’s about Orlando Gray.’ She shivered slightly.
He said, ‘That’s strange, Verity has the same reaction to him. I just find him boring.’
‘There’s something about him that makes the hair on my arms stand up and Elise feels the same. He pretty much ignores her, when he’s not giving orders. He’s a computer genius, but he doesn’t know she trained in the same, aah, you know, area, as I did. She’s just as au fait with computer technology and security matters as I am; Sir Marcus wouldn’t have employed her otherwise. He always likes to keep people in separate boxes, as it were. Now where was I?’
‘You were about to tell me something about Gray, I presume.’
‘Oh, yes. A week or so ago she overheard him talking to that woman.’ She sniffed expressively. ‘They didn’t notice she was there, she said. She was urging him to do something … she couldn’t hear much just the words, “You promised”. Then he said something about a holiday and getting the ATV, time for the next ... then he glanced over at her, murmured something and they went into his office. I believe they’ve gone away together.’
‘You mean Lara Nash, I presume. And Mrs Tennant doesn’t approve of her?’
‘She doesn’t approve of either of them. Oh, not on moral grounds, she’s no prude, in fact ... no, that would be gossip.’ She flashed a rather cheeky smile, for a second looking like a young girl. ‘Enough chit chat. The Deputy Commissioner wants a word, nine-thirty was suggested … a message came through late last night. And the press conference is scheduled for eleven-thirty.’
‘Why on earth didn’t he contact me personally. I was … oh, damn!’ He looked embarrassed, ‘I turned off my phones and forgot to switch on again. Christ, they’re still off. No wonder it’s been so quiet.’ He pulled his work and personal phones out, switched them on then groaned at the list of messages. ‘The one time I switch off, the bloody boss wants me. Any idea what for?’
‘No, the message just said to call him.’
‘Fine, okay, right. Will you ring through and see if I can talk to him now instead.’ He slanted a look at her, but her bland expression was giving nothing away. Too bland? He wondered if the way he had spent some of the night … and the early morning … was obvious. Not that it matters, he thought. We’re both adult and single.
‘Now the press conference. Some of the smarter journos are starting to speculate, putting it together, now that we have three murders on our plate. We’d better put together something to keep the press satisfied; no doubt the Deputy Commissioner will have some input in that too.’
‘I’ll take care of that, sir, while you go through your messages. I took the liberty of preparing a few notes earlier … might be useful for the press conference. On your desk comp.’
He took the hint and retired to his office with a mug of coffee from the machine. There were at least ten messages, and two on his personal phone, the latest from Verity. He read that first, her message a simple one … a smile, as she blew him a kiss. He saved it to savour later then checked his other messages. Most of them were from the press and he sent them straight to the PR office. One from Marcus to say he was off to New Zealand but would be back the next day.
Then it hit him, the background … Verity was in her sealed room. What the hell was she up to now? She was supposed to be resting. He was tempted to call her but time was short.
He activated his desk comp and found that some additional reports from the ME’s office had come through as well as more from the forensics lab and Mrs Halifax’s press conference notes. Hell, it was a complete speech and there was very little he needed to add. Once again he blessed the day Mrs H came into his life.
Still nothing from the UK or InterCat. What the hell was going on there. He called through to the main squad room. ‘Fraser, can you see if Blanchard’s in yet?’
‘Yes, he’s in the kitchen, I think. A bunch of them came in early and headed for the coffee. What’s up?’
‘Later, later. I’ll go into it when were all together, it’s too complicated to go over twice. Better round up everyone and get this going. I have a feeling today’s the breakthrough day.’
By eight-fifteen they were all there. Adams gave them the news on Verity’s recovery since they’d all enquired. Then the screens were loaded with images and information about the three murders as were the boards and everyone’s personal comps.
‘DS Blanchard, er, Jet, bring us up to date on those files from Levinsky’s computer.’
‘Yessir, I’ve been through everything now. There’s a complete record of all the InterPharm dealings, balance sheets, bank accounts … numbered accounts in tax havens for all the members. Not just his, everyone’s.’ He looked puzzled. ‘Except for the chief accountant’s.’ He glanced at his notes. ‘Peter Ashton. Either he wasn’t in on it or his own account is too well hidden. There’s also a record of where they all went when they vamoosed, aliases, even the plastic surgeon in Italy some of them used.’ He looked around the table and said, ‘You won’t be surprised to know he’s dead, apparent burglary gone wrong. Yeah, right!’
‘All these files … have you sent them to every
one yet?’
‘No, sir, not yet. Wanted to check with you first. Hundreds of files, lotta stuff you probably don’t need. I figured where they went and the names they used would be the most important so I’ve printed that out.’ He handed round a pile of papers.
DI Gold said, ‘Look at that. Perez, Rossi and the Emersons—the notation next to their names.’
‘Perez, deceased, murdered, mutilated, possibly tortured, in Spain. Rossi, deceased, heart attack, some signs of torture, Italy. Must have died of shock. Hedley and Lydia Emerson, deceased, burnt to death in a car accident just outside Chicago two years ago. Went off the road in suspicious circumstances. Our boy’s been busy,’ said Fraser reading from the handout.
‘If it is the same person. How could he get to all those countries? And look at the dates? They’re all in the last three years. They must have felt safe after all these years.’
‘And it’s no wonder Levinsky kept his head down, tried to avoid looking directly at the TV cameras. He knew about these. The Richardsons, too. They didn’t socialise much, just work and home. They must have been in touch with each other.’
‘And not forgetting our Daintree victim, Laker, Lake, Niles Leonard. Fled to Australia, thinking he’d be safe here. Not safe enough obviously.’
‘There’s one missing … Ernest Yarrow, where’s he. Could he be our murderer?’
Adams stood up then. After hearing all this he was convinced Verity was right. ‘Forget Yarrow, he’s seventy-five years old. We may have a suspect, in fact, we may have two suspects.’
He flicked his Tyle open. While going through the messages in his office he’d remembered that it was synched to Merlin, and as Verity had said that information on Gray should have been sent to his Tyle too. And sure enough it was. And interesting reading it made too. No clear motive for murder yet but it would come. There was more but this was enough for now.
STRANGE BODIES (a gripping crime thriller) Page 27