Game Over

by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

  ‘And that leaves Mark.’

  ‘Who disappeared as soon as Bates was arrested and hasn’t been seen since. Well, I’ve just been trawling every source I could think of, and it occurred to me that maybe Mark had family in the area, so I went into the BDM register, and found his birth certificate, and it turns out his mother’s maiden name was Steel.’

  Slider jumped as if he’d touched a live wire. ‘The man in the pub! Don’t tell me – his father’s name was Patrick?’

  ‘Well, no,’ Norma said, reluctant to deny him anything, ‘it was John. But it’s possible, isn’t it, that when he had to give a false name to old Dave Borthwick in the pub, that that was all he could think of.’

  ‘It’s certainly possible. We’ve got a photograph of Mark, haven’t we?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Not a very good one – he’s in the background of a picture of Bates. We never had a mugshot of him, because he was never arrested. But you can see who it is.’

  ‘Get a print-out and get Fathom to take it down to the cells, see if Borthwick recognises him.’

  Hart appeared behind Norma at the door, wondering what the excitement was about. ‘Guv? Something up?’

  ‘Thomas Mark’s mother’s maiden name was Steel,’ Norma said as she pushed past her.

  Hart’s eyes widened. ‘Wait a minute!’ she exclaimed, and dashed off to her desk.

  The word spread from person to person and the room buzzed with renewed vigour. A breakthrough made everyone feel better. Fathom came back, his fleshy face pink with exertion, to say, ‘He thinks it’s the same bloke. He’s not sure. He says it’s hard to tell from a photograph.’

  ‘God, the useless twonk!’ Swilley exclaimed.

  ‘But he thinks it’s him,’ Fathom said eagerly. ‘And in a line-up – in the flesh . . .’

  ‘Yeah, we’ve got to get hold of him in the flesh first, haven’t we?’

  ‘Crop it and get some copies made,’ Slider said, ‘and take them to the people who were in the Sally that night. Start with the staff and then try the customers.’

  ‘Guv?’ Hart looked up from her desk as she put the receiver down. ‘I was just on to Mrs Masseter. Asked her if the inspector who took away Danny’s things might have been “Steel” instead of “Strong”, and she jumped at it. Said yes, that was the name all right.’

  Slider’s blood sang. ‘When Fathom’s got the photo ready, send it over to the local police, ask them nicely to take it round to her, see if she can identify him.’

  ‘So, boss,’ Swilley interjected, ‘are we saying that Bates and Mark are connected with the Stonax murder? That the two cases are linked after all?’

  ‘I think we are saying just that,’ Slider said. ‘It’s not a coincidence that Bates has turned up here and now.’ He told them about his visit to Solder Jack, without mentioning his name, and Jack’s immediate fingering of Bates as the possible manufacturer. ‘So Bates makes the device to open the door, and Mark persuades old dipstick Borthwick to let him install it,’ he concluded. ‘I wonder, could Bates have been the “man in the van” that Borthwick never saw? The one Mark said was going to do the actual fitting?’

  ‘Bates would be careful not to be seen,’ Norma said. ‘That would be why he’d put Mark up as the front man in the pub, make him do the public work. But who did the actual murder? Mark? I can’t see Bates getting his hands dirty.’

  ‘He’s killed before, with his own hands,’ Hart said. ‘Susie Mabbot, the prostitute.’

  ‘By accident,’ said Swilley, ‘or at least in hot blood. The other deaths we think are down to him he may have had someone do for him. You don’t get to be a master criminal by doing your own dirty work.’

  ‘If Thomas Mark is mixed up with the Masseter death,’ said Hollis, ‘maybe he was the one that did both of them.’

  Slider interrupted. ‘But even if Bates and Mark were implicated in Stonax, or Stonax and Masseter, we still don’t know why. What the hell was it all about? There’s got to be a reason, and it’s got to be a bloody good one, if I know my Bates. And we still don’t know where he is – or they are. Norma, does Mrs Steel still live in the area?’

  ‘She’s dead, sir. Both the parents are. I checked that right away. I’ll have a look to see if there were any brothers or sisters, but it’ll take a while.’

  ‘Do it. Mark seems to be the only friend Bates has in the world.’

  Mackay, who had been answering the phone across the room, called out, ‘Guv, they’ve found the car. The black Focus. They think it’s the same one because it’s got the damage in the right place. The number’s different from any of the ones we’ve reported, but the number it has got is from a scrapped car.’

  ‘Where did they find it?’

  ‘A traffic warden called it in, illegally parked in a residents’ bay without a permit. Duchess of Bedford’s Walk.’

  ‘Sinning above its station,’ Slider commented.

  ‘Where’s that?’ asked Hart, who hadn’t lived in Shepherd’s Bush all her life.

  ‘Just off the Campden Hill Road,’ said Swilley, who had. ‘And just round the corner from Aubrey Walk, where Bates’s house is.’

  ‘Creatures of habit, criminals,’ said Slider. ‘Even the ones who think they’re uncommon criminals. And overconfidence has brought down the mighty before. Get the car in, go over it with a fine-toothed comb. One nice dab or one long red hair inside would be very nice. And a bit of something interesting on the tyres or the wheel arches would be even better.’

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ Hart said.

  ‘I don’t think my hopes know where up is,’ Slider said. ‘Also get a paint sample and photographs of the damage and send them through to the Reading police. See if they can get a match with the damage to Masseter’s motorbike. If we can get Mark it may lead us to Bates.’

  Sixteen

  Armageddon Too Old For This

  Joanna arrived early, in buoyant mood, and bearing gifts: bacon rolls for herself, and doughnuts for everyone else.

  ‘I left so early I didn’t get breakfast before I left,’ she said. ‘God, it’s good to be back!’

  Everyone clustered round for the goodies, including Emily, whose presence by now caused no surprise or comment. ‘I’ve found some things out about Bates’s company. Should I tell you now?’ She addressed the comment to Slider, but obviously with the rest of the team in mind.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said. It would save repeating it all later.

  ‘Well, you know he had this electronics firm called OroTech? His own baby, built up from nothing over many years, so he was virtually the sole owner.’

  ‘Virtually?’

  ‘Ten per cent was owned by someone else, the shares registered to a holding company. I thought it was interesting that he would give up any part of his company, because from all I can find out he was pretty much of a control freak, but when I looked at the date of the transfer, it was within six weeks of his being awarded the government IT contract. So I wondered, you see, whether it was a quid pro quo.’

  ‘You give me the contract, I give you a hand in the profits?’ said Atherton. ‘Sounds feasible. Obviously it must be Tyler.’

  ‘Don’t jump to conclusions,’ Slider said. ‘If it was, Emily would have told us. What’s this holding company?’ he asked her.

  ‘It’s called Vollman Zabrinski. It’s a sort of offshore wrapper, if you like, but I can’t get in to check individual holdings, and obviously they won’t answer my questions. It would have to be a police inquiry.’ She looked from Slider to Atherton and back.

  ‘I’ll ask Mr Porson,’ Slider said. ‘Might have to go through Interpol, though, which will take time. Anything else?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Emily said. ‘Two years ago OroTech split off its property division, Key Developments. And shortly afterwards it did a merger with British Electronics Systems, or BriSys, and the two became BriTech.’

  Atherton clapped his hands together in satisfaction. ‘Which then tried to merge with Anderson-Millar and
was snubbed, until Sid Andrew came up with his brilliant idea.’

  ‘I wonder, though,’ Slider said, ‘whether it really was his idea. He didn’t seem all that bright to me. Maybe it was Richard Tyler’s invention, and he just let Sid do the fronting, and Sid got ideas above his station. He did say Tyler got the credit, while he got the sack.’

  ‘Whoever thought of it, it does mean than Bates was in on the whole Waverley B business,’ Atherton said, ‘and we’ve got even more connections between him and Tyler.’

  ‘I wonder if Stonax – I mean, Mr Stonax, sorry . . .’ Swilley corrected herself with a blush. Emily made a negating gesture with her hand. ‘I wonder if he knew about the Bates-Tyler connection.’

  ‘Or if he didn’t before, maybe that was what he was working on after he left the DTI,’ Joanna suggested. ‘Did he never mention any of this to you?’ she asked Emily.

  ‘Not a thing. Which now I think of it was a telling point, because he used to like talking to me about his campaigns and investigations. But this one he played really close to his chest, so I ought to have known it was something serious.’ She sighed. ‘But if he didn’t want to tell, he wouldn’t have. You couldn’t force my dad to do anything he didn’t want.’

  The same thing occurred to everyone simultaneously – that he had been forced, by a threat to Emily – but no-one said it. She obviously thought it too, because she looked unhappy and lowered her eyes for a moment.

  Swilley spoke, mostly to break the awkward silence. ‘So what’s become of the Waverley B shipyard in all this?’

  ‘Sid Andrew said AM-BriTech were selling it,’ Slider said.

  ‘That’s not strictly true,’ Emily said. ‘They closed the yard as soon as their merger went through – which was pretty cynical, but I suppose that’s business for you. The gates closed at the end of May last year.’

  ‘And the election was in April,’ Atherton said. ‘That’s pretty cynical too. And now it’s going to be developed. I’ve seen the plans on the internet. It’s in a fabulous position, you see – on a sort of promontory sticking out into the Clyde, so it has water on three sides. It’s close to Glasgow – City of Culture, isn’t that what they call it now? – which is bursting at the seams with young money looking for somewhere to spend itself. It has good transport links. And there’s even an old railway line they’re talking about reviving. That was hinted at on the website, and it would mean a public money injection. “Infrastructure investment” is what they call it these days.’

  ‘And what’s it going to be?’ Joanna asked.

  ‘A mixture of leisure, retail and residential,’ Atherton said. ‘Shops, galleries, hotels, restaurants, small retail units – craft workshops and the like – and some swanky flats with river views.’

  ‘Like Salford Quays,’ Joanna said.

  ‘I was just going to say that,’ said Hollis. ‘Have you been there?’

  ‘We went out there when we did a concert in Manchester last year,’ Joanna said. ‘We had some time to kill between seating rehearsal and concert, so we thought we’d go out there for a meal. It was quite impressive, but a bit sad, I thought.’

  Hollis nodded. ‘Like when they turn the great old mills into yuppy flats.’ He had been born in Oldham, where now there was nary a mill.

  ‘Still,’ said Joanna, ‘a generation breathes easier.’

  Slider looked at Atherton. ‘That name rings a bell. Didn’t you report that Freddie Bell said Mr Stonax asked him about Salford Quays?’

  Atherton nodded. ‘He asked what sort of money there was in a development like that, and Bell told him it depended on how much you had to pay for the land.’

  ‘You’re building up to something,’ Joanna said. ‘I know that look.’

  ‘The Waverley B development – or the New Clydeview Centre as they’re going to call it . . .’

  ‘What else?’ said Joanna.

  ‘The development is being done by Key Developments, Bates’s company which he took care didn’t get taken over in the takeover. And since he’s also a large shareholder in AM-BriTech, I dare say the price charged for the land won’t be too heartbreaking.’

  There was a silence as these facts were absorbed. Then Swilley said, ‘So is that it? Is that the whole conspiracy? That Bates and Tyler were doing some fancy financial footwork together to make a profit out of the old shipyard?’

  ‘Isn’t it enough?’ Atherton asked. Their old resentment seemed to prickle the air for a moment.

  Swilley frowned. ‘I don’t see how that makes a case for killing Stonax – sorry.’

  ‘Please, you don’t have to mind me,’ Emily said. ‘I know he’s dead. That’s why I’m here, to try to help find out why.’

  ‘OK, I’ll stop saying sorry,’ Swilley said. ‘What I’m saying is that Ed Stonax knew about the fix that went in over Waverley B and the election, and that’s what they got rid of him from the department for. Developing a site as a leisure complex is what goes on all over the country all the time, and apart from maybe the “infrastructure investment” you were hinting at, Jim, having Tyler’s fingerprints on it, there’s no extra scandal for anyone to disapprove of. The development would bring regeneration to what was presumably a run-down area, and surely that’s a good thing all round? OK, a few people are going to get extremely rich on the back of it, but blimey, we all know that happens. It’s not something to kill anyone for.’

  ‘And what about Danny Masseter?’ asked Hart, who had come to feel rather proprietorial about him. ‘Where does he fit into it?’

  ‘And why was Bates sprung – if he was sprung?’ Hollis asked. ‘Couldn’t be just to enjoy the fruits of his labours, could it?’

  ‘He was a friend of Tyler’s – isn’t that enough?’ Atherton said.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought Tyler had any friends,’ Slider said. ‘Not of the sentimental sort. But you’re right, Norma – this doesn’t tie up all the ends. In fact, it leaves me with just as many questions as I started with.’

  Hart’s phone rang, and she went over to answer it. She came back smiling. ‘That was Reading,’ she said. ‘Mrs Masseter recognised Mark from the photograph as the bogus Inspector Steel.’

  ‘Good,’ Slider said. ‘So we’ve got him for impersonating a police officer, obstructing the course, and burglary, just for starters. Get his description and photograph out to all units. He’s to be arrested on sight.’

  ‘And if the car damage matches the motorbike,’ Hart said happily, ‘we can have him for murder.’

  ‘You’ve got to link him with the car first,’ Mackay reminded her.

  ‘We’ll do it. Poor old Danny,’ she said. ‘By Grabthar’s hammer, I will avenge you.’

  ‘By what?’ Slider said.

  ‘Best not to ask,’ said Joanna, who had seen the film.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this,’ Joanna said when she and Slider were alone, ‘but I have to have some more clothes. I didn’t pack all that much because it was only two days. I have to go back to the flat.’

  ‘Not on your own,’ Slider said.

  ‘You went on your own,’ she reminded him.

  ‘And look what happened to me.’

  ‘Yes. You didn’t manage to avoid it, so how will your coming with me make things better?’

  ‘I saw the warning signs, without which I could have been much worse hurt.’

  Joanna looked anxious. ‘It’s not that dangerous, is it? It was only a prank – the bucket? Painful for you, but not life-threatening.’

  ‘His threats have escalated,’ Slider said, choosing his words carefully. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never known, how seriously he means them, but I can’t take chances, especially not with you. If you tell me what you want, I’ll go and get it.’

  ‘Not on your own, to quote somebody I know and love,’ Joanna said. ‘You’d never find half what I want, and you’d get the wrong things. Besides, the whole thing about threats is that they are blackmail, and you don’t give in to blackmail. It’s my flat and I wo
n’t be kept out of it by some creep of a criminal.’

  ‘Bravely spoken,’ Slider said, but he didn’t smile. ‘All right, we’ll both go – but you’re to do exactly as I say, if anything happens.’

  ‘OK,’ Joanna said, making certain mental reservations. Probably he could read her mind – they had been together a long time – but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  Slider drove by a roundabout route, and this, and his constant checking in the mirrors, began to work on Joanna’s nerves. He had been hurt before – the memory of it chilled her – and Atherton had been seriously wounded some years back, so badly wounded that his nerve almost went and he was on the verge of leaving the Job. Being pregnant made you feel differently about all sorts of hazards. She had never given a thought to the hazards of falling over until the baby started to show. Now being at the top of a flight of stairs gave her pause. She didn’t let it stop her using stairs, but she thought about it. She wondered suddenly if, once the baby arrived, she would ever feel the same again about ponds, electrical sockets, bleach bottles, large dogs and any number of other pieces of previously ignorable life furniture. She had given a hostage to fortune in loving Bill, but it was the baby that had made her realise all the ways in which the ransom could be levied.

  But you can’t give in to it, she thought, otherwise there was no point in being alive at all. She wondered, though, how often Bill had been afraid for her, how often he was afraid for his other children. He never spoke of it, but that would be Bill anyway. Men’s courage was different from women’s. What they had decided to put up with come what may, they didn’t see the need to talk about. She reached across and laid a hand on his thigh as a huge gust of love went through her. He took his hand briefly from the wheel and laid it on hers in acknowledgement.

  There was a parking space right in front of the house, for once in a blue moon, and for a moment he wondered if that was ominous. Then he told himself not to be a fool; and not to appear one, either, by driving past it and parking further away, which was what he would have done had he been alone. But after all, if they were following him, they knew by now where he was going – would have known it as soon as he turned into the road. He parked, told Joanna not to get out until he opened the door, checked all the mirrors minutely, then got out and went round to her side. The day-empty street mocked his precautions. A car went past and he tensed, but it was a silver Peugeot with a young woman driving it.