by Susan Lewis
‘Tomato juice,’ she said. ‘What about Pinkton’s claims that he drove others?’
‘Nothing to support them,’ he replied, while signalling the barman to bring another round. ‘Which is not to say he’s lying …’
Laurie waited, confused and vaguely annoyed. Talk about smoke and mirrors. ‘So what does it say?’ she finally prompted.
‘Have you ever heard the name Marcus Gatling?’ Chilton asked.
She wrinkled her nose as she thought. ‘It seems to ring a bell,’ she said. ‘Why? Who is he?’
‘A very good question. I’d say he’s best described as a behind-the-scenes type with a lot of power in places it pays to have it. It’s generally known by those who operate in his kind of circles that he’s a close friend and adviser to the Prime Minister, but he seeks no publicity and seems to get very little.’
Laurie was immediately intrigued. ‘Meaning he has influence with the media too?’ she said. ‘To keep his name out of lights?’
‘Let’s just say it’s interesting how few people seem to have heard of him, considering how well connected he is.’
She was thinking of Wilbur now, and her thinly veiled orders to back off. Could this mean that they’d originated from a level so high that it made her giddy even to think of it? ‘So what’s this Gatling character got to do with anything?’ she asked.
Chilton waited until the barman had finished setting down their drinks, paid him, then said, ‘I want you to understand that you’ll never be able to quote me on anything I say here today, not only because it’s all off the record, but because I have absolutely nothing to back it up.’
She nodded agreement and understanding.
‘There are certain of my colleagues,’ he said, staring down at the full head on his beer, ‘who believe that the victims to fit Pinkton’s story will be chosen.’
Laurie sat with that, slightly stunned that he was telling her something so crucial, and needing some time to assimilate it. ‘So are you saying,’ she ventured in the end, wanting to get this absolutely clear, ‘that someone will decide which of Brad Pinkton’s party-going politicians will be named? And even if others were involved, if it suits for them to stay in power, they’ll be eliminated from investigations, and very probably from any kind of speculation in the press?’
Chilton’s eyebrows were raised, as though impressed.
So far, so good. But she still didn’t have it quite in her grasp. ‘So Pinkton’s story will break,’ she said, ‘just not yet, and when it does it will have been … managed?’
His eyebrows were still up.
Laurie frowned. Of course it was nothing new, stories being managed, or withheld, or even killed altogether. It went on much more than the public knew about, but it was the first time it had happened to one of hers. ‘If this Marcus Gatling has the kind of power you’re talking about,’ she said, ‘why doesn’t he just stop the story altogether? I mean, why bother creating all these scapegoats when it’s just drawing attention to a situation they’d surely rather went away?’
‘Another good question,’ Chilton commended. ‘But we think he sent Brad Pinkton to us for the very purpose of getting the orgy story into the papers.’
Laurie’s eyes widened. It took her only a beat to get there, and if she was right in the way she was thinking now, then they weren’t looking at a whitewash as she’d suspected earlier, but a smokescreen. ‘So by exposing the orgies and allowing a few carefully selected heads to roll as a result, people will think that Colin Ashby’s most likely motive for killing Sophie Long was to protect his party-going colleagues from blackmail.’
Chilton watched the barman as he walked to the dartboard and plucked out a set of darts. ‘It could certainly be interpreted that way,’ he responded.
Laurie lapsed into silence again. This was all way beyond any kind of normal logic, so it wasn’t really surprising that she kept lagging behind. And boy, was he making her work for this. Her mobile rang, but she let it go through to messages. Nothing was going to interrupt her now. ‘So do you believe that’s why Ashby did it?’ she asked.
Chilton sipped his beer through the froth at the top of his glass. ‘What we think,’ he said, ‘is what we’ve always thought – that there’s more to this, and someone somewhere is trying to put us on the wrong scent.’
‘So the orgy scene is a false trail?’ She needed this spelt out.
‘We believe so.’
‘Which is being laid by this Marcus Gatling.’
‘It’s all conjecture.’
‘Has anyone spoken to him?’
‘There’s no reason to. There’s nothing to link him with anything.’
She was quiet again as her mind raced through just how extraordinary and inflammable this information was. But as Chilton had already said, she couldn’t do anything with it when she had no sources to quote and no evidence to support it.
‘Why are you telling me all this?’ she asked in the end.
‘Because you’re interested,’ he replied. ‘And you’ll probably find something to do with it, later if not sooner.’
His words sent the thrill of the hunt coursing through her veins. This none-too-subtle encouragement to continue her investigations was telling her: first, that the force must be dealing with its own frustrations with higher authorities and stone walls, and second, that they were prepared to work with the press to uncover what was really going on. She wondered how many more members of her profession were being secretly approached by Chilton’s colleagues, for though she’d like to think this was an exclusive, she couldn’t fool herself into believing it was. ‘So who am I competing with?’ she asked.
Chilton frowned.
‘Who else is being tipped off about this?’
‘As far as I know, no one. Of course I can’t vouch for all the officers involved in the case, of which I’m not one, as you know …’
‘That’s a good point,’ she said, jumping on it. ‘How come you know all this when you’re not a part of the investigation?’
He slanted her a look and waited.
‘OK, I get it,’ she said. They’d presumably chosen someone who wasn’t directly involved to approach the press so that nothing could be traced back to the detectives themselves. And to her great good fortune Chilton was their man. Her adrenalin was really starting to flow now. So maybe this was an exclusive. Maybe she was going to get the chance to blow the lid off this and … And what? She had no Westminster or Downing Street contacts who’d be able to get her this kind of information, and no way could she call on Wilbur, or any of the boomers. Of course, Gino and Flaxie could be relied on, but even between the three of them, they just didn’t have the kind of clout that was needed to get any of these allegations to the starting gate, never mind past the post.
As though reading her mind Chilton said, ‘I do realize, of course, that you won’t be able to go this alone.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she mumbled. No way was she letting it go, but right now, she wasn’t coming up with too many bright ideas on how to get it going. Then something hit her. ‘Have you spoken to Ashby’s lawyers about any of this?’
He shook his head. ‘There’s a good chance they’re already aware of it. Their client has to be telling them something to help in his own defence.’
‘Do you still think Ashby did it?’
‘No doubt about it. But the man’s pleading not guilty, so we’re going to need to be ready for whatever they might throw our way to try and get him off.’
‘But you’ve got proof, material evidence, an eyewitness … And what about defence statements? Don’t they have to tell you what they know before it goes into court?’
‘Not until the case is ready for trial. By then, they could have come up with something that’ll get the whole thing thrown out on some kind of technicality, leaving us with egg all over our faces. A powerful man gets caught choking the life out of a twenty-two-year-old girl and the police can’t make it stick. How’s that going to look? Ashby walks a
nd an innocent girl’s family goes unavenged.’
‘Speaking of whom,’ she said, ‘is there any chance you can get me in to see the Longs?’
He shook his head.
She hadn’t really expected a yes, but he might be able to tell her where they’d been during those early days. ‘They’ve got to have been in police custody, or protection, or whatever you want to call it,’ she said. ‘It’s the only scenario that makes sense.’
‘They were,’ he confirmed, ‘but as to the exact location, and why …’ His smile was grim.
‘OK,’ she said, ‘so going back to Marcus Gatling. Who is he exactly, and why is he getting involved in this?’
‘He’s got business holdings all over the world; his main game is finance. Socially he’s thick with everyone that matters from the PM down. He was at Oxford the same time as Ashby and the PM, but he’s never pursued a career in politics himself. He’s almost certainly behind the funding of the current regime’s rise to glory, and as we all know, he who holds the purse strings holds the power.’
‘Where’s his base?’
‘In London he’s got two. One on Smith Square, the other in the City.’
Laurie’s mind was ticking over so fast she could hardly keep track. ‘So what’s his plan for Ashby?’ she wondered.
‘The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,’ he responded with a sigh. ‘What is Marcus Gatling up to? On the one hand we’ve got another Ashby motive looming on the horizon, which, on the face of it, isn’t going to help the man at all. But on the other there are twenty-odd years of friendship to consider, which gives rise to anything from simple fraternal loyalty to the sharing of some seriously sensitive knowledge.’
Laurie was mulling it over fast. ‘So, is he really planning to let Ashby go down,’ she murmured, ‘or is he engaging in the kind of illusion that’ll have even David Copperfield whimpering in awe?’
Chilton picked up his beer. ‘It’s all a guessing game, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘But I can tell you this: as far as we know Ashby’s had only one visitor apart from his lawyers, and that was the night of his arrest. The man turned up in the early hours of the morning with enough credentials to get himself into Ashby’s cell –’
‘What kind of credentials?’ she interrupted.
‘Special Branch,’ he replied.
Laurie’s heart gave an unsteady throb. In Chilton’s world it didn’t get any higher than that, so this must mean that even within the force itself, secrets were being kept. ‘But considering who Colin Ashby is –’ she began.
Chilton cut her off. ‘You’re right,’ he said, reading her mind. ‘Given Ashby’s access to government secrets it’s only to be expected that he’d be interviewed by the big boys. They were in on most of the other interrogations too.’
‘And it was presumably they who whisked the Longs out of harm’s way within hours of the murder?’
Chilton nodded.
They sat quietly for a moment, digesting it all, until Chilton said, ‘This has the potential to be big, Laurie. And I mean big. You’re not going to be able to handle it alone – no one could – so I want to discuss who’s going to handle it with you.’
Though she was nodding agreement, her mind wasn’t quite with him. ‘I’ll start by putting more pressure on Ashby’s lawyers,’ she said. ‘I need to see him, talk to him myself, if I can. At the very least I need a face-to-face with them.’
‘Laurie, you’re not experienced in this,’ he said, staying with his theme. ‘You’ve got the break, but you need someone to help you –’
‘Gino and Flaxie –’
‘Not Gino and Flaxie,’ he interrupted. ‘You need a serious player. Someone with the right contacts, the influence, the back-up –’
‘No!’ she suddenly broke in. Her eyes were glittering hard; her mouth was tight with anger. ‘I know who you’re talking about and the answer’s, not even if my life depended on it.’
His expression was quite sober. ‘It might,’ he responded.
Her eyes flashed her surprise.
‘Sophie Long is dead,’ he reminded her, ‘and frankly we don’t know why.’
Laurie looked at him, unable to argue with that.
‘There are likely to be a lot of risks involved in trying to find out,’ he said, ‘so what I’m saying is, let someone like Elliot Russell take them. He’s used to them, the man thrives on them, and, believe me when I tell you, you’ll end up being a serious liability, even a danger to yourself, if you don’t get his help.’
Laurie’s lips were pale, her hands were shaking. ‘I can see right through this,’ she seethed. ‘You’ve played me for a fool, haven’t you? You never had any intention of giving me this story. You’re just using me as a way of making contact with Elliot Russell, so that no one in your precious outfit can be accused of leaking the information to him themselves.’ Her temper was flaring out of control. ‘So what do you do? You call in naïve, stupid little me with my big-time ambition and schoolgirl bravado and hook me up as the bait to land the biggest barracuda in newspaper history. My God, that you, of all people … Knowing what you know, what he did to my family … I can’t believe you’d be this insensitive. Well, I’ll tell you this, Chilton! You can forget it, because no way am I taking it to him. Do you hear me? No way. Never. Not ever!’
Chilton blinked his way through the outburst, then took another sip of his drink. ‘So you still haven’t forgiven him,’ he commented, apparently unmoved by it all.
She was so angry now she was close to storming out, but with supreme effort she managed to keep her voice to a virulent hiss. ‘Lysette would be alive now if it weren’t for that man,’ she seethed. ‘You know that as well as I do. And my father wouldn’t be hanging on to his life by a thread because of it.’
‘How is Dennis?’ he asked, referring to her father.
‘I just told you, he’s still suffering. He’ll never get over it.’
Chilton’s eyes were fixed on his drink. ‘That was a terrible way to lose a child,’ he said. ‘Terrible.’
‘So why are you trying to make me work with the man who caused it?’
‘Russell wasn’t –’
‘It’s a fact!’ she cried. ‘Everyone knows it.’
‘OK. Have it your way. But I’m afraid the deal is, you either forget everything we’ve discussed here today, or you get Elliot Russell on your side.’
‘Not him!’ she snarled. ‘There are others …’
‘No one else has the resources or contacts.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course they do.’
‘Not in the freelance world, and we’ve already agreed that strings can be pulled in the Establishment. Especially in the Establishment, which you in your job are a part of. Now, I’m not going to sit here arguing. You either take this to Russell with your own set of conditions on how you can be cut in on the action, or we’ll get someone else to do it. I’ve got to tell you that giving any of it to you is against my better judgement, but I know how difficult they’ve been making it for you on that paper, and you deserve a break. So don’t screw this up, because if you do, you won’t even want to think about the kind of hell you’ll be paying.’ He drained his glass and got to his feet. ‘I’ll call you in a couple of days. And next time we meet, do me a favour, turn off that damned phone.’
After he’d gone Laurie ordered herself a large vodka and gulped half of it down in one go. She then took out her notebook ready to jot down the messages that had been piling up since she got here. Her blood was still boiling. Just no way was she going to Elliot Russell with this; she’d rather tie her head to a moving car and try running. But she damned well wasn’t going to give it up either. She needed a conference with Gino and Flaxie. Between them, they’d surely be able to come up with some kind of strategy, a workable plan on how they could start infiltrating the hallowed corridors of power. She also needed to make yet another call to Colin Ashby’s lawyers; also to Brad Pinkton; to Georgie Cottle in the vain hope of getting throu
gh to Beth Ashby; and she’d work out later whether or not she should mention anything to Wilbur, just in case he might have the odd contact or two he’d be willing to toss her way. However, recalling what Chilton had said about Establishment, Wilbur probably wasn’t a good bet.
On the point of dialling up her messages, she took another fortifying sip of vodka, then barked into the receiver as the mobile rang.
‘Laurie? It’s me,’ Flaxie said. ‘I’ve just heard that Beth Ashby’s due to visit the prison tomorrow at eleven.’
Laurie’s heart tightened its beat. ‘How do you know?’ she said.
‘I got a call.’
‘From whom?’
He paused. ‘Murray Cox,’ he confessed.
Laurie’s whole body stiffened. ‘Are we talking about the same Murray Cox?’ she demanded.
‘From Elliot Russell’s office, yes,’ he confirmed.
Inside Laurie was screaming. Why did this man’s name keep coming up? Wasn’t it a big enough world to make sure they never saw each other again? ‘Why did Murray call you?’ she demanded. ‘Why would he give you that information?’
‘I don’t know,’ Flaxie answered. ‘He called here about five minutes ago wanting to speak to you, actually, but when I told him who I was he gave me the information instead.’
Laurie was still livid. ‘Why?’ she snarled. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘We’re asking the same questions,’ Flaxie told her. ‘I don’t have any answers either. All I know is what I just told you. Beth Ashby’s going to the prison tomorrow.’
‘Then one of us should be there,’ she stated.