Faraday 02 Network Virus

by Michael Hillier

  “So,” the man asked, “what will I get for doing your dirty work for you?”

  “Who knows? I’ve already let you get away with various minor things. Now I’ve got your mobile number, I can pass certain bits of information in your direction from time to time as it becomes available.”

  “Is that all? You’re asking me and some of my mates to put themselves at risk for nothing more solid than a possibility of information?”

  “What risk?” Mallinson’s laugh lacked humour. “I’m the only bloke likely to see you and, as I’ve said, I’ll be too busy to do anything about it.”

  “What about CCTV?”

  “There’s none in the side streets.”

  “How do I know you aren’t setting me up?”

  “Come off it,” responded Greg. “What good would that do me? My chance of getting any brownie points either at the station or with the girl’s mum would be lost and you would probably bleat that I set it up, so I’d be deep in the shit, wouldn’t I?” He gazed into Hendon’s eyes. “I tell you, Sean, we need each other. I want a quiet patch with just a few break-ins to rich geezers whose insurance pays for their losses and you want an area with easy pickings and no competition. I’d say that sounds a good idea for both of us.”

  “OK,” said Hendon reluctantly, “I can see the sense in that. So tell me exactly what we’ve got to do - address, timing, name of bloke, number of mates I need - all that stuff.”

  “I’ve got it written down here.” Greg pulled a sheet of paper out of his inside pocket and handed it over.

  Hendon looked at it. “Blimey, you’ve really worked it all out.”

  “I’ve had plenty of time, haven’t I, while I was trying to track you down.”

  For the next quarter of an hour they worked through Greg’s list.

  “What about the right time?” asked Mallinson. “I want it to be as soon as possible.”

  “Tomorrow night, not too late. How about nine o’clock when it’s just going dark? It’ll be difficult to pick out the faces of anybody taking part in the half-light. I think I can get a dozen or so lads and their birds to back us up and even a few older kids who are willing to have a go at shouting and chucking bricks.”

  “All right. Nine o’clock it is. You’ve got the address and the bloke’s name on that sheet. I take it you’ll do a recce during the day - early morning’s best. His sister claims he’s a late riser and she’s out at work between eight and ten.”

  “I should manage that,” Sean Hendon stood up, his nearly empty beer mug in his hand. “Right. See you tomorrow night at nine.”

  Mallinson nodded. “Tomorrow at nine.” He watched the rough-neck get a refill and rejoin his mates, while he finished his drink. Then he got up and left, well pleased with the arrangements he had set up.

  - 21 -

  Charlotte arrived at police headquarters outside Exeter promptly at five to eleven. After checking with ‘Lord Harry’ Corbett, reception sent her straight up to his office on the second floor. The great man was personally waiting by the lift when she stepped out.

  “Come along to my pad, Charlotte.” He was all unctuous care as he shepherded her along the corridor. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

  “Two weeks ago, sir.”

  “That’s right.” He stood aside at the door and motioned her to enter. “Quite a lot has happened in Torquay in the brief fortnight since you joined us. I must say again how pleased I am about the speedy solution of the Cynthia Adams case - and to mop up another unexplained death at the same time was quite brilliant.”

  He pointed to a set of comfortable easy chairs in a corner of his vast, palatial office. “Take a seat. Chief Superintendent Vanessa Bolt will be along in a few minutes. She’s talking to Mark Lasham at the moment but she promised she wouldn’t keep me waiting. Coffee?”

  “Thank you, sir - little milk, no sugar.”

  He proceeded to pour her a cup from his personal machine which was steaming in the corner and brought it over to her. Charlotte noticed the bone china was nearly as delicate as that provided by Grace Fisher.

  He brought a cup for himself and sat by her. “What are you doing at the moment? I expect there’s still plenty waiting to be cleared up in Torquay.”

  “The big thing this weekend has been the searches we’ve been carrying out for this missing girl.”

  “I’ve heard something about that. When exactly did she go missing?”

  “Some time before nine on Thursday.”

  “Worrying time for her parents.”

  “Worrying for all of us. I must say the public has responded magnificently. Nearly four hundred turned out on Saturday for searches in response to our adverts and radio appeals. Yesterday it was more than seven hundred.”

  “Heartening. Very heartening.” Lord Harry nodded. “This sort of response shows that the police in the area enjoy the goodwill of a large slice of the public.”

  Charlotte looked at him sharply. “I should have thought it showed a lot of public sympathy for her mother and also for the school she goes to.”

  “Oh, yes. Quite so. I presume from your tone that there has been no luck so far.”

  “Sadly, no. We believe we’ve searched most of the likely publicly accessible places within a ten-mile radius. A more detailed search of the isolated properties is being arranged this morning.”

  “Who’s doing that?”

  “It will mainly be led by police personnel.”

  “I hope that phase will soon be over. We can’t afford to take too many staff away from their normal duties.”

  “Unfortunately, sir, we can’t allow members of the public to freely trespass onto private property without being accompanied by a uniformed officer. The aim is to complete that phase of the search within the next few days.”

  Further discussion of the case was interrupted by the arrival of Vanessa Bolt and Mark Lasham. Lord Harry was in his element with the introductions and handing round the coffee cups.

  “Where do you wish to sit, Vanessa, my dear?”

  “May I take your desk, sir? I would like the interview to be as formal as possible.”

  “Certainly, my dear. Please take my chair.” He fussed around them. “Charlotte, will you take this upright chair?” Almost opposite Chief Superintendent Bolt. “Mark, are you staying for this interview? Very well. Let’s put you here, shall we?” He was seated to one side of the desk.

  Then he left them, urging Vanessa Bolt to take as long as she wished because he would not be back until two o’clock.

  Charlotte settled down to face the Chief Superintendent with the fearsome reputation. She had to admit to herself that she was feeling a slight sensation of uncertainty in the pit of her stomach, despite her confidence in the correctness of her actions regarding the events being investigated. She had dressed carefully in sober clothing with a minimum of make-up and the lightest of perfumes. Glancing at Lasham she was slightly amused to note that he also seemed a little embarrassed by the situation and avoided any direct eye contact with her.

  Vanessa Bolt opened her briefcase and took out a bundle of papers and an A4 pad which she laid on the desk in front of her. She removed a pen from her inside pocket. There was no sign of a lap-top computer. The chief superintendent was obviously a traditionalist.

  She looked directly at Charlotte. “DCI Faraday, this is an initial investigation to find out whether there is a case which the PCC should look into. Since there has been no complaint by a member of the public we are under no obligation to investigate the matter. However, due to the number of organisations and individuals which are frequently peering over our shoulder, we feel it is essential that the matter is carefully looked at. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, before I start, I must tell you that I received a telephone call last Thursday from a Mr James McAlister of the TGM Partnership. Do you know this gentleman?”

  Charlotte was startled. “Yes, I know him. I phoned him last Wednesday when
I heard that Chief Superintendent Lasham had reported the death of Giles Adams to your organisation. I wanted his opinion on the matter.”

  “Well, I can tell you,” continued Bolt, “that I also know Mr McAlister and I was not pleased to receive the call when I was still preparing the papers.”

  “I must assure you, Chief Superintendent, that I did not ask him to contact you. I only wanted to ask his advice at this stage.”

  “That may be so. Unfortunately James appeared to decide that his advice should include a warning telephone call to me, to the effect that, if the PCC decide to proceed against you, he was likely to be involved. You are, of course, aware of his interest in defending police officers accused of malpractice in carrying out their duties.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Well, I will say no more on that matter. But it has caused an unfortunate spirit of confrontation at a stage when the investigation should have been conducted in an unbiased atmosphere.”

  Although Charlotte’s first reaction was one of alarm that James McAlister seemed to have shifted the investigation more strongly against her, she realised that it actually meant that CS Bolt would probably be much more careful about the degree of importance she gave to the views of people like Lasham, being aware that those views were likely to be subjected to very careful scrutiny by her superiors before they decided to go any further.

  The chief inspector was continuing, “I have made a note of the circumstances of the death and the actions leading up to the death as described to me by Chief Superintendent Lasham. I will run these before you and see if you agree with them.”

  CS Bolt then went step by step through the events of that Saturday night when Giles Adams died and obtained Charlotte’s views at each stage. She seemed somewhat unhappy about the involvement of the journalist Julian Brace but Charlotte pointed out that she was off-duty at the time and that he was not a witness in the case. *

  She finished with the question, “What happened to the body?”

  “It was recovered from the rocks at the foot of the headland by the coastguards the following morning. It was badly damaged by the fall and by being washed around by the waves.”

  The Chief Superintendent finished making her notes. “Very well. That is the complete record of what happened as far as you know it?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s nothing you wish to add? You agree that, although you were off-duty, you were the senior police officer at the scene?”

  “Yes. DI Paulson was also off-duty.”

  “But it was within his power to arrest the suspect. It was also within your power as his senior officer to give him instructions as to how to behave towards the suspect.”

  “That is correct,” agreed Charlotte. “However the situation unfolded so rapidly that I didn’t have the chance to assess the situation and give him alternative instructions.”

  Lasham broke in, “That doesn’t absolve you of responsibility.”

  “I accept that. And I must say that, having had plenty of time to consider the events with hindsight, I do not think I would have given DI Paulson any instructions to change the action he took. He was acting to save the life of an innocent man from being terminated by a double murderer and I believe he acted correctly.”

  There was further period of silence while the investigator finished noting down Charlotte’s comments. Then she looked up again.

  “I think that concludes my questions about your behaviour during the time when the suspect lost his life. However Chief Superintendent Lasham has today raised another query about your behaviour during the investigation into the Cynthia Adams murder. I have told him that I’m not sure whether the Commission will authorise me to look into this complaint. It concerns the behaviour of the above-mentioned Richard Harris during the original investigation of the murder a year ago. I assume you know what is meant here.”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, I have to say that I do not have the authority to require you to answer my questions on this matter. Nevertheless I will ask you if you are willing to answer them?”

  Charlotte considered. “I will answer them, insofar as I can. But I may have to refer you elsewhere at some stage.”

  CS Bolt’s eyebrows raised and she looked at Lasham. He responded with a shrug.

  “Very well,” she said. “I presume your comments will become clear during the questioning. I assume you were aware of Harris’s involvement in the initial stage of the investigation into the death of Cynthia Adams.”

  “Yes.”

  For the next five minutes the chief superintendent led her through the events of that summer evening just over a year ago. *

  “It may be that, because of Harris’s actions, the police investigations dragged on for over a year and cost many thousands of pounds. And yet you made no attempt to charge him with hampering the police investigations or failing to offer evidence to the police at the correct time. Can you explain your motivation, DCI Faraday?”

  Charlotte reached inside her jacket and extracted a copy of Garbutt’s letter which had explained Richard Harris’s behaviour and which she had had the foresight to ask him to let her take a copy of on Saturday when he came in to the office. She handed it over.

  “This is the reason, ma’am.”

  CS Holt took the letter and read it. She reached the bottom then read it through a second time.

  “Ah. This is interesting. It’s marked ‘confidential’. Can I keep it?”

  “Mr Harris requested that circulation should be extremely restricted. If I agreed to hand it over, he asked that it should only be showed to you and to your superiors at the Commission.”

  “Very well.” Vanessa Holt nodded. “I have no problem with that.” She delved into her brief case, opened an inside pocket and put the copy letter away in it.

  Charlotte had to hide her amusement at the open-mouthed bafflement shown by Lasham.

  “OK,” she agreed. “There is no point in continuing this enquiry further. Thank you for your straightforward answers to my questions. My report will be put before the Commission in the next few days. I’m sure you’ll be informed promptly if any further action is contemplated.”

  They all stood up and DS Holt shook them both by the hand.

  “May I leave now?” asked Charlotte.

  “Certainly. I don’t want you to keep you from your duties any longer than necessary.”

  “Thank you.” She hurried out before Lasham could start his own questioning to try and find out more about the Richard Harris situation.

  -22 -

  Stafford Paulson rang Hugo Farmer and arranged to go and see him before lunch. On Charlotte’s advice he told the solicitor what he wanted to speak to him about so that the man could get the papers out and prepare for the interview.

  Farmer was all affability when he greeted the inspector. “Congratulations on sorting out the Cynthia Adams case so promptly.” He shook him warmly by the hand. “I’m sure that must have gone down well with the powers that be in Exeter.”

  “It hasn’t done us any harm,” Paulson admitted.

  “And how are you getting on with Inspector Faraday?”

  “We’ve got a good working relationship.”

  “She’s a remarkable young woman.” Farmer looked him straight in the eye. “I suggest you make sure you get on well with her in the future. I’m prepared to wager she’s going places.”

  “Thanks for the advice.” Stafford grinned. The solicitor wouldn’t be aware of his firm intention to retire in three years time.

  “Now then, you want to ask me about Joanne de Billiere’s divorce petition.” Farmer sat down and pulled a stack of papers towards him. “What do you want to know?”

  “When did the lady come to you?”

  “Do you mean the first or the last time?” And he nodded in response to Paulson’s enquiring glance. “Oh yes, this had been going on for more than ten years. Alfred had apparently always had an eye for the ladies. When she first came to see me
she had discovered that he had got some young secretary pregnant. She’d found out that he was setting the woman up with a house. She felt humiliated by the way he appeared to be sharing his largesse between two women.”

  “Blimey. I didn’t know the bloke had history.”

  “Oh, yes. On that occasion, when de Billiere found out Joanne had come to consult me, he promised he wouldn’t do it again and they made it up. He bought her an expensive new house, much better than he’d got for the other woman. I made sure it was registered in their joint names and she felt more secure. That was enough to make her back down.”

  “What did you think about that?”

  Farmer shrugged. “Well, I hoped he would keep his promises. He was a very rich man and he appeared to be willing to spend a part of his wealth on his wife. I may say that Joanne was very impressed by his generosity and seemed to see it as a reaffirmation of his love for her.” He shook his head. “I was never quite so certain, but I hoped she was right.”

  Stafford leaned back in his chair. “I presume, from what you say, that he reverted to type.”

  “Yes. Sadly for her, she found he’d been cheating on her again. Of course, because he worked long hours in London, he stayed overnight in his club. That gave him plenty of opportunities for straying without her knowledge. The next time - the next one she found out about, that is - was when one of his colleagues in the company made Joanne aware that Alfred was having an affaire with his wife.”

  “Poor woman.”

  “Be careful when you say that. I was her solicitor, so I represented her interests. But I didn’t necessarily approve of her behaviour.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I discovered that this gentleman came down to discuss Alfred’s affaire with his wife and proceeded to stay with her for a week. Reading between the lines I got the impression that they started a torrid love affaire which continued for some time until Joanne told me she tired of it. It was then that she came to see me to start divorce proceedings again.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “About five or six years. For the second time though, Alfred managed to persuade her to patch up the marriage. He bought her an expensive motor cruiser which I once again got registered in their joint names. He paid for it to be berthed in Torquay so that it was always available for her use. He gave her various other presents including a very expensive solitaire ring which she of course flashed about to all her wealthy friends.”