by Bill Kitson
‘There are other advantages,’ Phil replied. ‘It will be weeks, possibly months before anyone sees that car.’
‘Any other advantages?’
‘Yes, this cottage has a huge bath. Easily big enough for two. At least I think so. Do you fancy testing it to see if I’m right?’
chapter fifteen
Nash was about to tell Clara the results of his phone call to Sister Evangeline and Pearce was waiting to add his findings, but they were interrupted by a phone call from Jack Binns, who asked Nash to come down to the reception area.
The young couple waiting by Jack’s desk looked nervous. ‘They’re here to make a statement,’ Jack said by way of introduction. ‘They found a car ablaze in that disused quarry near Drover’s Halt last night. It was burning fiercely when they got there. Apparently, the fire brigade couldn’t check it out until this morning because the heat was too intense.’ He turned to the young man. ‘Tell Inspector Nash what you told me.’
‘At first, we thought the car was an old banger somebody had dumped, but I went to check there was nobody inside. I don’t think there was, but it was too hot to get close enough to be certain. What I could tell was that it was no banger. It was a fairly new Mercedes, the latest body shape, which means it must be worth quite a lot of money. Not now’ – he smiled slightly – ‘I mean before the fire. I thought it might have been stolen, joy riders, maybe.’
‘That was very observant,’ Nash said.
As he spoke the phone rang. Binns answered it. ‘Yes, he’s here.’ He passed the receiver to Nash. ‘Chief Fire Officer Curran for you,’ he explained.
‘Morning, Doug, how’s things?’
The three people in reception saw Nash’s expression alter, become instantly far grimmer. ‘OK,’ he said after a moment, ‘we’ll be out there as soon as we can get. Yes, I’ll see to that.’
He put the phone down and turned to the couple. ‘That statement of yours has suddenly become very important, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to give it to Sergeant Binns here.’
He turned to Binns. ‘I have to collect Clara and Viv and get out to the quarry. Before that I need to raise Mexican Pete and SOCO.’
The car had been a saloon, but so fierce had been the heat towards the back of the vehicle that the roof had all but collapsed, giving it the appearance of a coupe. Little remained of the paintwork, and what there was had blistered and peeled; such as hadn’t been melted had lost its original metallic silver lustre, now appearing as a dull gunmetal grey.
‘They took the plates off before they torched it,’ Pearce pointed to the front of the car. ‘Why do that?’
‘Good question.’ Nash stared at the vehicle, ‘It could have been done to conceal where the vehicle came from, or who the owner was. Perhaps it was a personal number plate. It’s that type of car. My guess would be they wanted to conceal the identity of the victims.’
‘Always assuming one of the victims was the car owner,’ Mironova pointed out.
‘Whoever they were, the killer wanted time before we identified either car or victims.’
‘They must surely have known that we’d be able to trace the car from the Vehicle Identification Number on the chassis. They can’t have removed that. The engine number would also be enough to give us the car owner.’
‘I assume they would know that, Viv, so maybe all they wanted was enough time to make a getaway. I’m going to talk to Doug Curran, and find out if he knows how they torched the car.’
Pearce and Mironova watched as Nash walked over to where the firemen were awaiting the arrival of the pathologist. He was whistling quietly and seemed unconcerned by the grim scene around him. ‘Mike seems far more relaxed these days,’ Viv commented. ‘I know he’s always been fairly easygoing, but nothing seems to faze him now. Is that Daniel’s calming influence, do you think?’
‘It could be, although I’d suggest that being a single parent is more stressful than relaxing.’
‘Whatever it is, if Mike were any more laid back he’d fall over.’
‘Morning, Doug,’ Nash greeted the fire chief. ‘What do you know? Any idea how the barbecue started?’
‘And I thought some of my team have a sick sense of humour! It was the oldest trick in the book. Take a piece of rag, soak it in petrol and stuff it into the filler nozzle. Light it, and that ignites the vapour from the tank. You do know that it’s the vapour that’s inflammable, not the liquid, I assume?’
Nash nodded. ‘Very unpleasant. And the victims?’
‘We didn’t find them until the vehicle had cooled off sufficiently to prise the boot open. We only did that because one of our guys smelled burnt flesh; said it reminded him of his mother-in-law’s cooking.’
‘More like meals on wheels, if you ask me.’
Before Curran could reply they saw a small procession of vehicles arrive at the quarry entrance. ‘That’ll be Mexican Pete and the body-snatchers,’ Curran observed.
‘You make them sound like an unsuccessful sixties pop group. It’ll be interesting to see what the cause of death turns out to be. I hope they were shot, stabbed, poisoned, strangled or beaten to death.’
Curran stared at the detective. ‘Why on earth do you hope that?’
‘Because that would mean they were dead before they were put into that boot.’
Curran took in the implicit horror of Nash’s statement. He swallowed. ‘You actually believe that someone could be cruel enough to put these people into the car whilst they’re still alive and let them burn to death?’
‘I honestly don’t know.’
The pathologist approached Nash and Curran. ‘I think we can rule out natural causes and suicide. No cause of death until after my examination. I was hoping to do the post-mortem tomorrow morning, but I want the vehicle and contents taken back to the lab. There, perhaps we can remove the bodies more easily. Fused,’ he said abruptly, as if by way of explanation.
‘He’s in a chatty mood today,’ Curran said.
‘I think someone told him that if he used too many words he’d have to pay a fine and he still believes it,’ Nash said. ‘I’m going to talk to our forensic officers. I don’t see there’s much more we can do here, apart from retrieving the car’s VIN. I’ll try and talk SOCO into doing an area search.’
‘Good luck with that. Send Viv across and we’ll sort the VIN out for him. I’ll see if we can get the engine number, too.’
Nash was talking to the SOCO team leader when one of his fellow officers called the man over. Nash followed, and they reached the remains of the passenger door. ‘I’ve managed to get the glove compartment open,’ the officer told them. ‘I thought you’d like to see what was inside.’
He reached out with a gloved hand and proffered a badly damaged automatic pistol. ‘I had a quick look at it,’ the officer continued. ‘It must have been loaded and the ammunition has exploded by the looks of it. No way of knowing if it’s been fired. Well, not in the normal way, that is.’
Nash smiled slightly. ‘That’s interesting.’ He signalled Mironova and Pearce to join them and pointed to the gun. ‘How many law-abiding citizens carry a loaded pistol in their car?’ he asked.
‘If they’re carrying a pistol, they’re not law-abiding anyway,’ Clara pointed out.
‘True, carrying one is an offence, but I was thinking more in the wider sense. Unless they were in fear of their life, only hardened criminals carry guns. So which is it, fear, criminality, or both?’
By the time Pearce had retrieved the numbers, the police low loader was reversing up to the burnt-out wreckage to remove it to their garage for further analysis.
‘Right, I think we’re done here. SOCO are going to search the area for possible clues, so we’ll only be in their way. Let’s go back to the station – I’m suffering from caffeine withdrawal.’
Once they were back in the CID suite, Nash explained about the information he’d picked up as a result of his conversation with Sister Evangeline, and Pearce added the
details he had unearthed.
‘The fire at the Endeavour Clinic remains a mystery,’ Viv began. ‘I spoke to a DS in Coventry, who remembered the case. He told me the file is still open, but inactive without new evidence. I asked him about the clinic and he told me that as far as he is aware, its main function had been as a sort of post-operative convalescent home operating in the private sector, not as part of the NHS. At the time of the fire, the clinic was undergoing major refurbishment; otherwise the death toll could have been far higher. There was some talk at the time that perhaps the material being used for the renovation might have contributed to the intensity of the blaze. He mentioned several gallons of paint that had been left close to a radiator, which doesn’t sound a very sensible thing to do.’
‘Far from it. Did he think that was what started the fire?’ Clara asked.
‘No, but it made it worse. He said the fire started in a basement storeroom, where there were a lot of chemicals, cleaning fluids, etcetera. The clinic was fully equipped with an operating theatre, but as far as he was aware no procedures were carried out there.’ Pearce turned to another sheet of paper. ‘I also found a press article that appeared in one of the local papers at the time. It was an interview with a doctor who had worked at the clinic in the past, and who, for some reason, didn’t want to be named. He’d attended patients at the clinic up until a few weeks before the fire, when he left to go work abroad. He was asked to comment on the deaths and said all the usual things: terrible tragedy, sad loss to the medical profession and so on and so forth. To be honest, there didn’t seem to be that much point to the interview, more a local reporter trying for a different angle on a story everyone was covering. The only interesting bit I could see was that the interviewee had left to go work in California, and wished to remain anonymous.’
‘Why was that, I wonder?’ Clara asked.
‘No idea,’ Nash said, ‘but it does sound rather mysterious. Viv, see if you can get hold of that reporter, if he’s still around, and ask him if he can remember the guy’s name.’
It was half an hour later before Pearce reported back. ‘The reporter was a bit reluctant to part with the details, but eventually he came up with a name and the hospital he worked at in California. I checked them out on the internet and it turns out our man is now on their board.’
He passed a sheet of paper across to Nash. ‘The phone number is on there, as well as the email address.’
‘Before I do anything, what time is it in California?’
‘They’re eight hours behind us,’ Viv told him.
‘I’ll leave it until later.’
It was almost four o’clock when Nash emerged from his office. To find Clara looking like the cat with the cream. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Nothing much’ – she grinned even more – ‘David’s home! He sent me a text to warn me not to be alarmed if I find a strange man in my bed when I get home. Apparently, he’s tired after the journey.’
Nash refrained from making an inappropriate comment and instead said, ‘That’s great news.’
‘Thanks, Mike. How did you go on with the doctor?’
‘I got hold of him and he told me that before he emigrated he took several jobs at the clinic to help pay his removal expenses. The reason for him wanting to remain anonymous was not as sinister as we thought. The work he did at the clinic was cash in hand, so he was anxious to avoid the Inland Revenue getting wind of it.’
‘What sort of work was it?’
‘That’s where it gets really interesting. Apparently, one thing Viv’s contact at Coventry CID got wrong was that the clinic did conduct operations and our man in California occasionally acted as anaesthetist. He couldn’t remember the exact number, but he thinks there were around half a dozen, for which he was paid two thousand a time, which explains his reluctance to part with a lump of it to the tax authorities.’
Clara whistled. ‘If the anaesthetist got paid that much, I wonder what the surgeon’s fee amounted to?’
‘I’ve no idea, but given the type of procedure involved, I would guess it would have been pretty steep.’
‘What sort of procedures were they?’
Nash told them, adding, ‘I’m not sure whether it has any bearing on our inquiry, but I’ve got a feeling it could be important. Just don’t ask me why, because at this precise moment I have absolutely no idea.’
Pearce’s phone rang. He listened, making several notes before thanking the caller. As he replaced the receiver in its cradle, he told them, ‘That was the DVLA. They’ve given me the name of the Mercedes’ owner they traced via the VIN. The car is registered to a company in London.’
Nash gestured to Pearce’s computer. ‘Look them up; see who their directors are and get me their phone number if you can.’
Several minutes later Pearce printed off a couple of sheets of paper which he handed to Nash. Having looked at the details, Nash said, ‘I’m going to ring Brian Shaw. I’ll do it from in here on speaker so I don’t have to repeat myself.’
Fortunately, Shaw was at his desk and answered the call immediately. ‘Hells Bells, Mike, have you nothing to do up there? If things are that quiet, maybe I should ask for a transfer. What is it this time?’
‘I wouldn’t start filling that form in yet if I were you. Remember that conversation your girlfriend repeated to you? The one where she told you all about her boss heading up this way, searching for some lost diamonds.’
‘Yes, what of it? Has Thornton got himself into hot water up there?’
‘You’re closer to the mark than you think, I reckon. Certainly hot, if not water. I reckon you should advise your Candy to start looking for another job.’
Nash explained, adding, ‘I think we’re going to need to use DNA to confirm identities. One of us will get back to you on that. In the meantime, I’d like a favour from you. Assuming that the bodies were those of Thornton and his henchman, I’d like you to try and find that informant who gave the address to Thornton; presumably he’ll remember it. We need to know where Phil Miller and Corinna Perry are staying, and we need to know urgently. They have to be prime suspects for these murders.’
Nash had a stray thought, one not directly connected to the subject of the conversation. He scribbled a single word on the notepad in front of him. By craning her neck to one side, Clara was able to read the word: ‘timeline’. She was still puzzling over this when Nash ended the call by asking Shaw, ‘When you do pick up that bloke, be sure to ask him about the dates Phil and Corinna travelled up here and exactly when he gave Thornton the information. Candy might also confirm the last bit.’
Corinna had begun to run water for the bath when Miller appeared in the doorway. ‘Don’t bother with that, take the plug out. We’ve work to do,’ he told her.
‘What sort of work?’
‘You know the expression, one job creates another? Well, I think what we’ve just done has led to another little task.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I got to wondering how Thornton knew where we were staying. There is only one way. When I made the booking, I was in the shop, and I wrote the details down. The Ferret must have seen them. Remember, I was talking to you on the phone about the diamonds and I reckon Freddie must have overheard. In which case, the Ferret has become both dangerous and expendable. If he passed the news to Thornton, he’s just as capable of passing information to others.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘I think we should silence him.’
‘Good, I never liked that man.’
‘It’ll mean a long drive there and back. Are you up for it, or do you want me to go alone?’
‘No problem, I’ll manage.’
It was late afternoon by the time they returned, and by mutual consent, both headed straight for the bedroom. Two days and nights with next to no sleep had left them drained, exhausted. ‘If the stones are in that cottage, they’ll have to wait another twenty-four hours,’ Miller muttered. ‘They’ve waited long enou
gh; another day won’t hurt.’
‘You don’t think there’s a curse on them, do you? It seems to me that every time we get close to them, something happens to set us back.’
Miller stared at her in surprise. ‘It’s unlike you to believe in superstition.’
‘Yes, maybe you’re right. Perhaps I’m just tired. But think about it. We believed Ray would lead us to the stones. He didn’t. We thought the bastard boy must know. He didn’t. Then we found out the place where the diamonds might be hidden, and we couldn’t get in because of a ghost – or a house-sitter. Last night we were all set to go back and we had to deal with Thornton instead. Today, we should have definitely been going there, but we’re both too knackered from the long drive to sort out the Ferret. Everything that’s happened delays us finding the stones, and I haven’t even mentioned the cause of the biggest delay of all. If she hadn’t snuffed it before she could tell us where she’d hidden the stones, none of this would have been necessary.’
‘I don’t think there’s a curse on them. People were dying because of those diamonds long before they came anywhere near us. Forget it; put it down to weariness. You’ll be thinking straight in the morning.’
‘We’ll have to do something about them soon, though. For one thing, the woman from the cottage is due back.’
‘No, it’s a few days yet.’
‘Even more important, our deadline’s getting close. We can’t afford to miss that.’
‘If we have to, we have to.’
‘The point is, we don’t have to. This is everything we worked for, remember?’
‘Mike? Brian Shaw here.’
Nash put the phone on speaker for Clara’s benefit. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve picked up Freddie the Ferret already?’
‘I haven’t.’ Shaw’s tone was grim. ‘Others have, though.’
‘Problems?’
‘You could say that. Freddie caught the underground this morning.’ Shaw paused before adding, ‘Unfortunately for Freddie, he caught it head on.’