‘Look, man, like I said, I’m not so sure that this is such a good idea after all. I think I’ll just leave it... ’
‘You’ll take a breathalyser test before you leave the building, so I would advise you to say what you’ve come to say,’ Nick said more sharply, then added for the second time, ‘Are you sure you don’t want a solicitor present?’
‘God, no! It’s — well, all right. It’s about my cousin. Caroline Price. It was just meant as a lark at first. Well, more than that, really. I mean, with all the money involved, nobody could say it was just a lark. But it wasn’t my idea. I told you that, didn’t I? I never knew he was a nutter though.’
He spoke jerkily. He wasn’t making a lot of sense, and Nick knew he had to handle him gently if he was to get anything coherent out of him. But hearing the name of the cousin alerted him. Norman Price had implied that his daughter was missing, but he had never confirmed it, and no one of that name had been reported missing. It had seemed no more than a line that went nowhere. If you weren’t informed officially that someone was missing, there wasn’t much you could do about it.
‘Why don’t you start from the beginning, Mr Laver, and say what it is you’ve come to say? If it wasn’t your idea, whose idea was it?’ He still didn’t have a clue what Laver was talking about, but that didn’t matter. It always paid to sound as if you knew.
‘Daneman’s. He made it sound easy. Said he could make any woman fall for him, even dog-face.’ Jeremy was bitter with angst now. ‘I hated it when he spoke about Caroline like that. I mean, she’s not that bad-looking. She just never attracted men. Never wanted ‘em, as far as I knew. Not that I ever thought she was — well, you know. Daneman bet me he could have her any time he wanted, and he bought her all this flash underwear, the type that sluts wear.’
He paused, then said savagely, ‘He even brought some of it to show me, used, of course, to prove that he’d been with her. It was disgusting, the way he kept wafting it under my nose. She fell for it all right. But everything began to go wrong, and it wasn’t how it was planned.’
‘How was it planned?’ Nick said softly, and seeing far more into Jeremy Laver’s character than he realized.
He revised his earlier opinion that the guy was probably homosexual. If his guess was right, he had no sexual inclinations at all. He was as tight-arsed as a eunuch. It was the other one — this Daneman — who was the perv.
Jeremy’s words grew more rambling. His eyes were huge, his mouth trembling, and Nick knew he was looking on him as a pseudo-priest in the confessional now. His friend and mentor God help him. He felt a swift resentment at having to soft-soap the whinger into telling him everything, but it had to be done. There were more ways of getting at the truth than by strong-arm methods.
‘He was going to suggest that they went away for a few weeks on his boat, then he was going to keep her there until he got his freedom. That’s what he called it.’
‘His freedom?’ Nick said.
‘He had to say he’d marry her. Caroline wouldn’t settle for anything less. She was living in fantasy land anyway, believing everything he said. But it all had to wait until his so-called divorce came through, on her birthday.’
‘And he knew the date of her birthday?’
‘Of course he bloody did. The birthday was important to the plan. He had to say it was the day he got his freedom and then they’d get married. Except that he was never married. He was a con-man, and it was just one of his tricks. Marcus had plenty of those. He kept making me listen to his tales of what they got up to; he was a real sicko — a psycho, I reckon. He enjoyed turning Caroline from a frump into a nympho, but then he started to get fed up with her.’
Nick could hear the alarm bells in his head.
‘So what are you telling me? What was the result of him getting fed up with her?’ Nick said.
He didn’t want to lead him, but he was well aware of what a ruthless con-man — and psychopath — could do with a woman who wouldn’t stop clinging when she’d got well past her sell-by date in his perverted mind.
Jeremy stared at him, the bloodshot eyes still wild and brimming with fatigue. ‘Giving you all this information will go in my favour, won’t it, man?’
‘It won’t do you any harm,’ agreed Nick.
His brief moment of pity had gone. Privately he despised Laver just as much for betraying this Daneman as for conspiring with him over his cousin.
It was a strange old world he lived in, having to suck up to informants while hating their guts. But it had to be done. And he still hadn’t got to the bottom of it yet. He knew there was a lot more to come.
‘There was this bitch of a journalist, see? Well, that’s what she said she was. Came to interview me, she said, for an American music magazine. Then Daneman saw her at Caroline’s cottage, and described her to me. I knew it was the same woman, so what was she doing there? Tell me that if you can?’
‘I can’t, but go on, Mr Laver. What about this woman?’
He could hear the frustration and anger in the man’s voice now. Laver was a small-time musician compared with the Lloyd-Webbers and Nigel Kennedys, but his manner was as egotistical as if he played his fiddle at the Albert Hall every night. And it was obvious that he felt stabbed in the guts that this journalist woman wasn’t who she said she was.
‘Toffee-nosed bitch,’ Jeremy growled. ‘Even took her fancy-man down to the cottage and was cavorting about with him on Caroline’s bed. It was sick-making.’
‘And how did she know about Caroline?’ Nick asked carefully. ‘Where does she come into all this?’
‘That’s just it. I don’t know. I kept calling Marcus to make sure everything was OK, but he’d never give me a straight answer about anything. I’m still suspicious about that bitch of a journalist, though. Never trust a redhead, I say—’
‘A redhead? What was her name? It may be important, Mr Laver.’ Nick tried not to raise his voice, but his nerves were razor-sharp now.
If he went too fast Laver could so easily clam up and the interview would be finished. But there was only one redhead that he knew who had had connections with Norman Price and had telephoned the hospital to enquire after him, saying she was calling on his daughter’s behalf.
‘She said she was called Audrey Barnes,’ Laver grunted. ‘But about Caroline’s birthday—’
‘Yes, tell me about that,’ Nick said.
Audrey Barnes. Alexandra Best. Same initials. Oh God, how corny can you get, Alex?
‘On her birthday she’s due to come into a packet from a crackpot great-aunt. If she doesn’t claim it on the day it goes to somebody else. It was Daneman’s idea to keep her out of the way so she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on it.’
‘Why would he want to do that? Who’s next in line to get the money, Mr Laver?’
But he didn’t need to be told. It was all there in the man’s crazed eyes. He’d babbled out the rest of it, but he was still reluctant to give the final bit of information to damn himself, still putting all the blame on Daneman’s shoulders.
‘You’ve got to get to her, man,’ Jeremy’s voice rose in sudden hysteria. ‘Marcus has got a bad reputation. He’s fed up with my phone calls, and he came to my flat last night, threatening me with a knife and saying what he’ll do to Caroline if things go wrong. If she drives him too far he’ll sure as hell cut her. She’s got a bloody awful temper. She’s deaf, but she’s certainly not dumb.’
‘She’s deaf?’ Nick said.
He’d heard some bizarre tales in his time, but this one had all the trappings of a sick mind at work. He could see the other man start to shake. His putty-coloured skin had broken out into a sweat and his eyes were glazing. At any minute he was going to keel over, but Nick hadn’t finished with him yet.
‘What was the rest of the plan?’ he asked urgently.
‘When Caroline doesn’t claim the inheritance, I get the money,’ Jeremy mumbled. His lips shook uncontrollably now and he was starting to gag. ‘Daneman’s got several passp
orts and he intends leaving the country as soon as he gets his cut. Hell, I don’t even know if Daneman is his real name, man.’
‘And Caroline?’
‘I don’t know. But I’ve got a real bad feeling about it. It’s all gone wrong. I know it has.’
Nick didn’t mince words. ‘Well, I need to know two more things from you, Laver. Firstly, was Caroline’s father involved in any of this? And I must have the name of this boat and where it’s moored. We have to find it as quickly as possible. From what you’ve told me, there could be a murder charge here, and if so, you would certainly be an accessory.’
This time the shock tactic had no chance. Far from making Jeremy blurt out the final pieces of the puzzle, it served to have the opposite effect. It was a chance Nick knew he’d had to take. He just managed to scrape his chair back from the desk in time as Laver spewed all over it and then slumped to the floor, out cold.
***
Alex answered the knock on her office door, eager to tell Gary of her call at the travel agents and the girl’s advice. She had barely finished her lunch, and was in the act of stuffing all the brochures into her overnight bag. Her heart jumped at the sight of the large figure pushing his way inside.
‘Nick, do come in,’ she said, hiding her nerves under the guise of sarcasm. ‘What are you doing here? Don’t you ever have any work to do?’
The moment he saw her, he cautioned his first reaction to wring her neck. He was used to summing up people at a glance, and she was definitely in a high old state and hyped up to the gills. If she was anyone else, he might think she was on something, but he was certain Alex wasn’t stupid enough to get into that scene. He didn’t miss the sight of the overnight bag and some glossies that she hastily hid from view.
‘I’m working now. Going somewhere?’ he said curtly.
‘Oh, just out of town for a couple of days.’
She chewed her lip. Why was it, every time she was half-tempted to confide in him, he turned up, and she immediately reversed her thoughts? She wished she hadn’t seemed so guarded — almost furtive — because she might have known it would arouse his interest.
‘Business or pleasure?’ he asked.
‘A bit of both. I’m doing some research.’
And from her preliminary look through her road atlas, and the detailed brochures, she’d need to research the whole damn Norfolk Broads, which looked like an impossible task. Like looking for a needle in a haystack, no less, and there was simply no time for all that.
‘Look, Nick, I’m in a hurry, so what do you want?’ she said quickly, wanting to be rid of him before Gary arrived.
Nick smothered his fury. If she could be devious, then so could he, and a hundred times more effectively, he thought, anger making him more arrogant than usual. But he took the easy way out.
‘I care about you. I haven’t seen you for days, so I thought I’d check that you’re all right — as a friend, since you don’t seem inclined to see me as anything else.’
‘Pull the other one, Nick,’ she said, ignoring the innuendo. ‘You’re checking up on me, aren’t you?’
‘Now why would I do that? The only reason would be if I suspected you were involved in something heavy that you’re not telling me about.’ His eyes didn’t waver.
‘Well, I’m not,’ Alex said abruptly.
And I know damn well that you are, he thought savagely. Before she could think what he intended to do, he had pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight.
‘Just be careful. There are some pretty tough customers out there, so don’t be too much of a fu— bloody feminist. Call me if you need me.’
Her voice was scratchy when she answered. He was just too hunky and macho to be called sweet, and he wouldn’t thank her for saying so, but that was just what he was. And she had to keep the emotion under control right now.
‘There’s really nothing for you to worry about, Nick, but I’m touched by your concern.’
More than she could say, if he wanted to know. Their jobs could be highly competitive, but she was well aware that he thought deeply about her. Even if he still had his doubts about a woman doing what he considered a man’s job, she knew he meant well.
There were some sleaze-bags in his unit who gave her occupation a far less complimentary name. At least she knew Nick was always on her side.
She was still held tight in his arms, and he suddenly kissed her hard on the mouth. She responded because he was her friend, and she loved him as a friend.
‘Be careful, Alex,’ he said again. ‘And by the way,’ he added casually, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve come across a character called Marcus Daneman, have you?’
‘No, I haven’t. What’s he done?’
‘Nothing — I hope.’
Moments later he was gone, and she stared thoughtfully at her door, wondering if there was any significance in the remark. He had a nose for a mystery, and he knew she was on to something. He wasn’t averse to tantalizing her, or leading her up a false trail if he thought she was muscling in on his case. But this time he seemed intent on muscling in on hers, Alex thought indignantly.
But he couldn’t possibly have any idea that she was on the trail of a woman called Caroline Price. He didn’t know anything about her unless Norman had blabbed to him, and from his antipathy to the thought of any police involvement, she could count on that being a non-starter.
There was something about Nick’s attitude that alerted her, though. Alex had known him a long time, and she knew when a throwaway remark was just a throwaway remark, and when it wasn’t. She recalled it again, and was quite certain that she had never come across anyone called Daneman. She certainly didn’t know anybody called Marcus.
Marcus. Hey, wasn’t that the name of Dorien’s husband in Birds of a Feather? Poor sap...
God, she was doing it again, Alex thought, disgusted with herself for her TV addiction. She really should get out more. She finished putting the maps and brochures into her overnight bag, and then her hand froze.
Marcus. M. The possibility hit her so hard that she gasped. She should have seen it immediately. If this Marcus Daneman character was the mysterious M Superstud himself, if Caroline’s fruity comments in her diary were to be believed, who had apparently managed to turn her from a fairly plain woman into something of a sex bomb, then Nick definitely knew something she didn’t.
She had no idea why he had mentioned the name, but his reason for calling on her was wearing a bit thin now, and she wished she’d had her wits about her enough to find out more.
He’d done her one small favour, though. He’d given her a name to work on when she got to the Broads and made enquiries about any private boats registered in that name.
Chapter 12
Nick’s earlier intention to storm in and demand that Alex told him everything she knew before the missing woman was mutilated or killed, seemed less favourable than his new policy. Her overnight bag and the hastily hidden magazines had decided him. She hadn’t seemed to know Daneman’s name, but he had a sixth sense about her next move, if not the exact location.
Laver’s statement had made it a police matter now, and ironic as it seemed to him, Nick intended to virtually stalk Alex on the assumption that she had discovered where Daneman’s boat was moored. He knew he was going against normal policy of calling in the whole team and setting the thing in motion to search for the missing woman. But this time he was doing it his way.
Laver was sleeping it off in custody, and hadn’t looked like coming round for a long while, so he knew he couldn’t get anything more out of him. God knew how much whisky the man had drunk before summoning up the courage to make his statement, but he was going to have a hell of a hangover later.
Once he had left Alex’s office, Nick joined his three colleagues in his car, where they waited unobtrusively in a side street for her to come out and hopefully lead them to wherever Daneman was. After a while, when she still hadn’t appeared, Nick called Price’s factory number on his mobile.
On balance he decided that the father was unlikely to be involved in any kidnapping, especially since he’d guessed that Price was in dire financial straits, and that the girl was due for a packet, according to Laver. Price would need her.
But the fact that the guy knew his daughter was missing and that Alex had been hired to find her, was as obvious to Nick now as breathing. Price was a bloody unnatural father, but Nick had met plenty of those in his time. He’d also seen plenty of business dabblers who’d raise heaven and earth rather than involve the police in their affairs, and it took more than that to faze him about this one.
‘Mr Price,’ he said, when he heard the snappy response at the other end. ‘This is DI Nick Frobisher. You may remember I spoke to you at the hospital after you were attacked.’
‘I know who you are. What do you want?’ Price said.
‘Do you know a man called Marcus Daneman, sir? It’s in connection with your missing daughter.’
There was silence at the other end except for the heavy sound of Price’s breathing.
‘Sir? We have reason to believe that your daughter may be in considerable danger, and if you know anything at all about this man she’s been associating with—’
The next second he heard Price give an outraged laugh. ‘Associating with a man? Caroline? You must be joking, Frobisher.’
‘I don’t think so. I’ve had it on good authority.’
‘Oh yes? Who told you this nonsense?’ Price snarled.
‘Your nephew. Jeremy Laver. It seems that he and Daneman are well acquainted.’
There was a loud gasp at the other end. The penny was definitely dropping, thought Nick. He would obviously know all about the inheritance going to the cousin if Caroline didn’t claim it. And if this slimy old geezer needed the daughter’s money as he suspected, he’d be getting a shrewd idea now that his cringing nephew was involved in her disappearance, and that the money was in danger of going down the drain as far as he was concerned.
Price’s voice became harsh and explosive. ‘If that bloody female has been talking out of turn — she knew very well I didn’t want the police involved — it’s just a domestic matter. Nothing that I can’t handle.’
Thicker Than Water (Alexandra Best Investigations Book 1) Page 21