Faraday 02 Network Virus

by Michael Hillier

  “Up in her room. She’s always up there.”

  “Did you go up to see her?”

  “Not to start with. I just sat and smoked and felt bloody annoyed.”

  “With your wife?” asked Paulson.

  “Not just with her.” He shrugged. “Oh, you might as well know it all. When I was in London I went round to see Alfred de Billiere. He’s Tracey’s real dad.”

  “Why did you go to see him?”

  “I wanted more money. It was time for him to give me some more. He used to give me quite decent chunks from time to time. But he hadn’t given me anything lately.”

  “How big were these chunks?” asked Paulson.

  “Oh,” he shrugged, “perhaps ten, twenty grand.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot of money. What did you do for him to pay you that much?”

  “Oh,” Bostock swayed his head from side to side. “I always knew he was sweet on Marion. But his wife made a hell of a stink when she found out about her - reckoned she’d take him for a fortune. So, to keep her quiet, he arranged for me to marry her so that he could pretend he’d given her up. I didn’t mind. She was a good-looking bird when she was young and he reckoned she was a scorcher in bed, but I didn’t find that she was quick enough.” He pulled a face. “Anyway, when he set me up as her husband it was on condition that he could spend some time with her every now and again when he could get away from the missus. He said he’d pay me well and for the first few years it was OK. But he hadn’t paid me anything for a couple of years and things was getting tight, so I went to see him to find out what was happening.”

  “And what was happening?” asked Charlotte.

  “He said he stopped seeing her. After … - after his wife died he took up with another young raver who worked for him and she made sure he didn’t have the time or the energy for Marion no more. So he stopped going with her and that’s why he stopped paying me.”

  “And you still wanted the money,” said Paulson.

  “Course I did.”

  “What had happened to all the rest he’d paid you before?”

  Bostock shrugged. “Well, it had gone, hadn’t it? When the ship calls in at Hong Kong every couple of months we have a right riot of a time - good food, lots of chinky birds, couple of days at the gee-gees. It soon goes.”

  “OK,” said Charlotte. “Let’s get back to last Wednesday. You were sitting alone in your living room, smoking and feeling annoyed. What did you do next?”

  He leered at her. “I decided to get my own back, didn’t I? I knew he had a boat in the marina because he’d taken Marion out on it when he wanted to give her a treat when his wife was away visiting her mother, if you know what I mean. And I thought it would frighten Marion shitless if her beloved daughter disappeared. Also I could use it to get some more cash out of de Billiere. I thought he’d pay to get his daughter returned back to her mother. It would have worked too, if you bloody lot hadn’t come along.”

  “So how did you get Tracey to agree to this?”

  “Oh, that bit was easy. You know how youngsters like to do something more exciting than going to school. I just told her I’d take her out for the day as a special treat. I told her I would see it was all right with her teacher because I’d just come home. But she wasn’t to tell her mum because Marion would insist she went to school and that would muck it up for us. I arranged to pick her up in the park across the road from the school as soon as I could get there - probably about ten o’clock. I’d already decided I was going to take Marion to the police station to report her being raped. I told Tracey we’d go for a trip for the day in this big luxury boat. She was up for it, I can tell you. She asked why we couldn’t all do it at the weekend but I said I could only borrow the boat for the day.”

  Paulson shook his head. “And you were doing this with the intention of kidnapping her. But she never had any idea?”

  “I’m her dad, aren’t I? I can do what I want with my daughter.”

  “Come off it,” said the inspector. “You ought to know the law doesn’t give you the right to take her away and imprison her.”

  “Anyway,” continued Charlotte, anxious to get as much as she could out of Bostock while he was in this expansive mood, “you picked Tracey up as you promised at ten o’clock.”

  “That’s right. She was already waiting by the road when I got there. Marion and I had just had a row. The woman even came back at me when I told her off. I can tell you I was feeling right pissed off with her. So I was even more determined to go ahead with it.” He shrugged. “Well, I took her down the marina. We got on the boat and headed out to sea. I like going to sea. It’s like you leave the bloody side of the world behind on the land.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Paulson. “Did you have a set of keys to the Sarah Jane?”

  “Yeah. Had ‘em for years, hadn’t I?”

  “How did you get them?”

  He suddenly looked cautious. “I dunno.” He tossed his head. “I suppose Alfred must have given them to me. Sometimes I do odd jobs for him.”

  “Were you in the habit of doing odd jobs for him?” asked Charlotte.

  “Course I was.” He grinned salaciously. “I married his little tart for him when he got her in the family way, didn’t I?”

  “Odd jobs like getting rid of people he didn’t want hanging around any more?”

  He looked at her carefully. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Never mind.”

  Paulson cut in. “So you’ve been on the Sarah Jane before? When were you last on that boat before you took Tracey out last Thursday?”

  “I dunno. I can’t remember.”

  “Have you been on that boat in the last two years?”

  “No. It was a long time ago.”

  “Can we go back to what happened last Thursday,” interrupted Charlotte. “You say that you took Tracey to the marina to get on the Sarah Jane. What time would you have got there?”

  Bostock thought for a moment. “About quarter - half past ten I suppose.”

  “What did you do with your car?”

  “Left it in the marina car park. There’s a pass card attached to the key ring.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “Here you are. You might as well have it now.”

  “Did you go into the marina office?”

  “No. I’d put some stuff in a couple of shopping bags. So I took them out of the boot of the car and we just walked to the boat.”

  “Nobody stopped you or asked who you were?”

  “Nah.” He grinned. “At this time of year there are loads of comings and goings. It just looked as though I’d been out shopping with my daughter. I did wonder if any of the people on nearby boats might have asked who I was. I was ready to give them a story about having been sent by Alfred to get the boat ready. But there was no-one around when we got there.”

  Paulson intervened. “So you just unlocked the boat, went on board, fired up the engines, cast off and pulled away and went out to sea. It sounds as if you’d done this before.”

  Bostock shrugged. “These boats are all much the same.”

  “So you had done this sort of thing on previous occasions?”

  “Yeah,” He looked a little wary. “My life is on the sea and in ports around the world. It’s obvious, isn’t it, that I’d have taken out boats like the Sarah Jane from time to time.”

  “So when you got out to sea, what was your intention then?” asked Charlotte.

  “I knew I’d have to find somewhere quiet where no questions were gonna be asked. Also I hadn’t got much fuel. Last time he took her out, Alfred put the boat straight back on her moorings afterwards without bothering to refuel her, the silly bugger. So I decided my only option was to head for the Dart and find a quiet creek. That’s what I did.”

  “When did you get there?”

  “It was early afternoon. I was lucky it was high tide so I got well up the creek. I found a mooring buoy what didn’t look like it had been used for some time and tied up to it.�
��

  “What did Tracey think of all this?”

  “Up till then it was an adventure for her and she was enjoying it. She explored all round the boat and when we going up the river she watched as things went past. I’d got some sandwiches and fruit juice for us to eat. After lunch I told her I had to go and get the car because the boat had already grounded. So I left her for an hour. She didn’t mind.”

  “You didn’t tie the girl up at that stage?”

  “No. I’d brought a couple of her books so she settled down to read on a lounger on the after deck. She likes reading.”

  “Where did you go while she was reading?”

  “I rowed ashore to the nearby slipway where you found me. I rang a Totnes taxi company and started walking. They picked me up and took me back to the marina to collect my car.”

  “And what happened next?”

  “Well, I did some shopping as well. It all took longer than I thought it would - more than two hours altogether. When I got back the sun had gone in and the wind had got up and the incoming tide was quite choppy. Tracey had decided she’d had enough of the adventure. But I told her it was too dangerous for us both to go ashore in the little dinghy so we’d have to wait till the tide rose again enough for us to leave. I said I’d rung her mum so she wasn’t worried.”

  “Did she accept that?”

  “She had to, didn’t she? I put her on the bed in one of the cabins and she carried on reading. After a couple of hours she fell asleep.”

  “So what happened when the tide came in?” asked Paulson.

  “I knew I would have trouble when she woke up. So I locked her cabin and had a couple of hours shut-eye myself in the cabin opposite. I left the door open so I’d hear her. In fact she slept all night and woke at about dawn.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I just told her the truth. I told her the whole story - that I wasn’t really her father and that I was keeping her on the boat to get money out of her dad that he owed me. I said that as long as I didn’t have any trouble with her she’d be all right. That set her thinking, I can tell you.”

  “Did she co-operate?”

  “Yes. She wanted it to be over of course, but I said that depended on her dad.”

  Charlotte wanted to know, “Then why did you tie her up with the duct-tape?”

  “I told her I’d have to do that while I went to get supplies but if I didn’t have any trouble from her I’d release her as soon as I got back.”

  “So she let you do that?”

  “Yeah, more or less. She didn’t like it but she realised it was no good to struggle. And to make it up to her I was generous with the food and new books and things that I brought back from the shops.”

  “Meanwhile,” said Paulson, “you’d got in touch with her father, Alfred de Billiere.”

  “Yeah.” He looked up. “I’m desperate for a fag. Can I smoke in here?”

  “No. You’ll have to go out into the exercise yard at the back.” Charlotte stood up. “All right. We’ll have a quarter of an hour break. I could do with a cup of tea. How about you, Stafford?”

  “I’ll escort Mr Bostock. You can send it to me in the exercise yard.”

  She looked at him oddly. “OK, if that’s what you want. Tea for you, Bostock?”

  So they broke up for fifteen minutes.

  When they reassembled in the interview room there was a decided air of optimism about Stafford Paulson.

  “What’s got into you, Stafford?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute.”

  “Fair enough.” Feeling slightly annoyed with him, she switched on the recording equipment again, entered the details and took her seat opposite Bostock. “Now then, what did de Billiere say when you got in touch with him about more money?”

  “It took a while, but in the end he agreed to let me have fifty thousand a year.”

  “Fifty thousand pounds?”

  “Yeah. I needed the money to set me back on my feet.”

  “You must have some sort of hold over him to get that much money out of him,” said Paulson.

  “Yeah - well.” Then he shut up.

  Charlotte asked, “How do you know he’ll keep to that once you’ve returned his daughter?”

  “We’ve signed an agreement. That’s why I had to go up to London this morning. That’s why I had to tie up Tracey more carefully than usual. My copy’s in the car.” He sniffed. “If you hadn’t turned up I was just about to drop Tracey back at her mum’s.”

  “Were you really hoping to move back in with Marion after what you’ve done to her in the last few days?” asked Charlotte.

  “No. I’d had enough of the bloody woman. I was going to leave her to stew in her own juice. I’d have been shot of the pair of them. Then there wouldn’t have been no trouble, would there?”

  “You’ve still committed several serious offences,” said Charlotte.

  “Hah. I’d have been gone before you lot decided to get after me.” He shook his head. “P’rhaps your being clever and catching me before I left will have buggered me up for a few years but my fifty grand a year’ll be clocking up for when I get out.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Paulson. “There’s something much more serious that I want to talk to you about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” said the inspector with deliberate slowness, “that when we were in the exercise yard, I noted that you were smoking Gauloises Bleu. The man who murdered Joanne de Billiere smoked that brand. It’s a very unusual brand. Can you explain that coincidence?”

  Bostock was obviously shaken by this sudden revelation but he controlled himself. “Where d’you get the silly idea from that she was murdered?” he asked.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” said Paulson. “What I want to know is whether you were on the Sarah Jane on the afternoon or evening of second July, 2009.”

  The man leaned forward. “You’re asking me to put myself forward to be guilty of causing Mrs de Billiere’s death,” he said. “Well, I deny it. So you prove it.”

  “All I’ve got to do, my son,” said the inspector, “is give the court enough circumstantial evidence to convince them that you are the man who caused her death. I think I’ve got that, so the sensible thing for you to do is to admit it now and let your legal team put forward extenuating circumstances to reduce the charge or the sentence.”

  Gary looked from Paulson to Charlotte and back again. “I want to talk to a lawyer before I say any more.”

  “OK,” said Charlotte. “That can be arranged. Do you have anybody in mind or do you want us to provide a solicitor from the police panel?”

  “Will he be on my side?”

  “If you talk to him, he is required to offer you all the advice you need and then to accept your instructions. The Law Society ensures that he will not help the police to secure your conviction, even if he believes you are guilty.”

  It being late in the day by now, the interview was terminated and arrangements made for Gary Bostock to see a solicitor first thing in the morning before a further interview was arranged.

  - 37 -

  Charlotte called on Marion on her way in to the station the next morning. She was greeted by a radiant mother. The DCI thought she had never seen her looking so pretty and could well understand how she had captivated a jaded businessman when she was a young secretary.

  “How is Tracey?” she asked.

  “She’s fine.” Marion closed the door and led her into the sitting room. “The doctor saw her last evening and he said she seems to have come through the ordeal remarkably well.”

  “No adverse reactions? She didn’t want you to sleep with her or anything like that?”

  “No. James and I took her for fish and chips afterwards. That’s her favourite meal. And now she’s sleeping it off. I rang the headmaster and he said she could have the day off and return to school tomorrow.”

  “I’m so pleased she seems to have come through
it so well.”

  “Yes.” Marion shook her head. “I was a bit worried because Gary told her that he wasn’t her real father and I thought that would have been a shock to her. But she doesn’t seem to be in the least bothered about it. She told me that somehow she had known that he wasn’t her proper father. But then she wanted me to tell her who her real father was.”

  “Alfred de Billiere.”

  Marion’s eyes opened wide. “You knew about that?”

  “Gary told us in the interview. How is she coping with that revelation?”

  “She’s been asking loads of questions.” Marion had turned a little bit pink. “Some of them I’ve been finding it difficult to answer.”

  Charlotte laid her hand on the other woman’s arm. “Marion, she’s twelve years old. I think she can cope with the truth.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. She’s been brought up in a strange atmosphere with a so-called father who she didn’t really get on with and who, it must have been clear, I didn’t love. I think it’s about time that I sorted things out for the sake of everybody.”

  “What does that mean about your relationship with Gary?”

  “I don’t want to have anything to do with him any more. It would make me feel ill to be in his company. When I think what he did to Tracey, it’s clear he can’t have felt any sort of affection for either of us.”

  “Well,” said Charlotte, “I have to tell you that, in the interview yesterday afternoon, he said that he wanted out of the arrangement as well.” She shook her head. “It seems to have been the strangest sort of relationship. How did Tracey get on with her real father?”

  “He used to turn up from time to time when she was younger, always bringing loads of presents which she loved of course. She used to call him Uncle Freddie. He was her favourite uncle.”

  “According to Gary, Alfred used to spend several days with you a couple of times a year until about two or three years ago. Is that correct?”

  Marion nodded.

  “And apparently the relationship was a lot more than just platonic. Alfred and Gary had an understanding about it before he married you. Alfred used to arrange the visits when Gary was away at sea and he used to pay him handsomely for the privilege.”