Barnard nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘So, we need to get any pictures she took at that party developed and printed fast. Destry and his mates will be in front of the magistrates tomorrow and if there’s any incriminating evidence on here I want it in the hands of the prosecution. I’m supposed to be able to use the resources at the Yard. We’ll see how good that promise is. With a bit of luck I can get them remanded in custody. That’ll give the newspapers something to shout about and tell the public that the drug squad is up and running.’
As the two of them turned round to retrace their steps, Jamieson stopped and raised his hand.
‘Did you hear something just then?’ he asked. They stood for a moment in silence until they recognized the sound of heavy running footsteps behind them. Jamieson aimed the torch beam further into the dark and identified a uniformed officer running erratically towards them.
‘Whoa,’ Jamieson said. ‘DI Jamieson, DS Barnard,’ he said. ‘We wondered where you’d got to.’
The constable bent over with his hands on his knees breathing heavily and almost unable to speak. ‘Sir, we found … we need an ambulance … though it may be … too late …’
‘Take your time,’ Jamieson said.
‘It’s a young woman, says she’s been here a long time …’
‘She’s alive, though?’
‘Just about.’
‘Right, you go and get help; we’ll catch up with your partner …’
‘I’ll do that, guv,’ Barnard said. ‘You could go to the Yard and get the pictures done.’
Jamieson thought about that and then nodded his assent. He pushed his flashlight into Barnard’s hand. ‘What time’s your interview with your DCI tomorrow?’
‘Twelve o’clock.’
‘Destry’s in court at eleven. It won’t take long. I’ll see you after that.’ And he turned on his heel and followed the uniformed officer back the way they had come.
Harry Barnard came out of Casualty for the second time that Sunday with Dave Donovan following close behind him. The musician looked as if he had been run over by a bus and Barnard did not look much better.
‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Barnard said. ‘You said you knew there were other people in those passageways. We should have taken more notice of that. We should have searched them earlier.’
‘The doctor said she was too far gone,’ Donovan said. ‘He couldn’t save her. He said she had pneumonia. She dyed her hair red for nothing, didn’t she, silly cow? Her parents are coming down to identify the body. What’s left of her. She looks like she hasn’t eaten for weeks. God only knows what they’d given her.’
Barnard glanced at his watch and put a hand on Donovan’s arm. ‘The pubs won’t be open yet,’ he said. ‘We’ll go back to my place and have a drink and then I’ll get you back to Tess’s flat. You need to sleep, if you can. Remember they spiked your drink as well as Kate’s.’ He put Donovan in the front passenger seat and set off fast towards Camden Town.
‘I heard someone talking to the car driver,’ Donovan said. ‘They’d been there before. I guessed Kate and me were not the first to be dumped like that.’
‘Are you sure of that?’
‘I’m not sure whether Kate heard. She was pretty far gone by that time. But I’m sure Destry was picking up girls and giving them drugs to get them into bed. I knew he had his eye on Kate – that was obvious. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. I found her hiding upstairs to keep out of his way. And it’s quite likely he had picked Marie up too. He had other Scousers around the band. He must like the accent – the only person down here who does. Kevin Dunne’s been with the Rainmen a while, and someone called Pete I heard mentioned was going to audition. Drummer, I think.’
‘We found her bag and her camera too. The drug squad will get them developed. They’ll want them for evidence.’
‘I wondered where that had gone,’ Donovan said. ‘I was supposed to be looking after it.’
‘Don’t go anywhere or do anything until you hear from me or DI Jamieson tomorrow. I’m in an important meeting in the morning but whatever happens I’ll find out who’s the senior officer looking into Marie’s case and we’ll take it from there. It’ll be handled initially by the local nick, but it looks as if the shiny new drug squad may get a look in.’
When Barnard woke to the grey light of morning he found himself still fully dressed lying on his bed and spent a good half hour piecing together his memories of the day before. And the more events he remembered, the more depressed he became. He glanced at his watch to discover it was only six thirty – more than enough time to get rid of the thumping headache but not nearly enough to stop him worrying instantly about Kate and to a lesser extent about the interview he was booked to have later that morning. Yesterday, he thought, had been bad for Kate and Dave Donovan; today could see him out of the Met for good, the inadvertent victim of Ray Robertson in spite of his own best efforts to avoid that fate.
After a shower and some breakfast Barnard felt marginally better and at half past eight he rang the hospital and was put through to Kate’s ward. The nurse he spoke to was cagey but in the end admitted that Kate had slept well and that Mr Ingleby might possibly let her go home when he had seen her on his ward round later.
‘What time will that be?’ Barnard demanded and was told somewhat huffily that it was usually between ten and eleven.
‘I’ll ring again later,’ he said, and hung up. He stood for a moment in front of the mirror in the hall before pulling on his coat and was shocked by the face which stared back at him. There were dark circles under his eyes; the bruising Ray Robertson had inflicted at his mother’s house was still only too evident and he was so irritated by the dark, conservative tie he had chosen as a sop to senior officers who considered even a single identifiable flower or a colour more flamboyant than maroon to be an open confession of sexual deviancy that he pulled it off and went back to his wardrobe to choose one of his cheerful Liberty prints. ‘May as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb,’ he muttered as the phone rang.
‘Jamieson,’ the voice at the other end announced.
‘Guv?’ Barnard asked, irritated that the DI was bothering him this morning.
‘Can you stall this interview of yours?’ Jamieson asked.
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Barnard said. ‘DCI Jackson’s been waiting for this for a very long time. And DI Fred Watson’s not one of my greatest fans either. They’ve both got a grievance now. Either I’m Ray Robertson’s best mate and have been for years or I’ve been sleeping with a well-known tom and tried to get in on the inquiry into her murder by hiding the fact that I knew her. The first charge could see me out of the Met, the second will wreck my relationship with Kate as well.’
‘Doesn’t sound promising,’ Jamieson conceded. ‘Meet me in the Blue Lagoon and I’ll show you the pictures. About eleven thirty? Too early for a pub. I have to be in court first to see Destry remanded and make sure nothing goes wrong. The press will be there in force. We’re already getting calls about drugs and the music scene. I’ll come straight over to your nick and talk to them afterwards. I’ve got your girl’s photos developed and they’re a goldmine. Did you know she took some pictures at the Late Supper Club as well? Everything’s on one roll of film and gives us enough unanswered questions to keep us going for a month.’
‘Right,’ Barnard said. ‘No, I didn’t know that. She was staying with Tess Farrell for a few days so she could help Dave Donovan out. I was tied up with the Grenadier killing, working all the hours God sends so I didn’t see her for a couple of days.’
‘See you later,’ Jamieson said and hung up.
Barnard made himself more coffee and then drove to the West End and parked close to the nick, giving himself time to cross over Regent Street and make his way into the narrow Soho streets. The police tape around the Grenadier pub had been taken down now and the whole area looked unusually calm. To his surprise he saw Vince Beaufort heading in his direction with a firmer tread t
han he had seen him use recently.
‘Flash Harry,’ Vince said, almost cheerily. ‘I was going to catch up with you at the nick later. I was thinking about what you said about standing up to these bastards, and then I heard the details of what happened to Evie. And I saw the chap who’s been chatting up your Kate. He’s all over the place like a rash and I finally discovered his name from the manager at the Delilah. He’s called Bob Cotton. Will that help?’
‘It might do,’ Barnard said. ‘Keep in touch, Vince. I think we might be making some progress at last.’
‘Good,’ Vince said.
‘But mind your back,’ Barnard warned. He glanced at his watch, turned towards the familiar door to the Blue Lagoon and saw DI Brian Jamieson making his way inside.
‘A quick coffee, guv?’ Barnard asked, and Jamieson nodded. By the time Barnard brought the coffees back to the table the DI had spread a bundle of photographs across the Formica.
‘My God, she was busy, wasn’t she?’ Barnard riffled through the prints that Jamieson had divided into those taken at the Late Supper Club and those showing the party at Jason Destry’s house in the country.
‘Do you know him?’ he asked, pointing to an image of the man he had just been discussing with Vince Beaufort.
Jamieson gave him a sharp look. ‘Why do you ask?’ he said.
‘There’s a few people who wonder what he’s up to, including Kate. He’s been pestering her and asking questions about her boyfriend, in other words me.’
‘You obviously never worked out he’d followed you to Ma Robertson’s house. He’s called Bob Cotton, he’s a DS and he works for me. He told me he reckoned that you were still in touch with Robertson and told your DCI the same. But it didn’t take much detective work on my part to find out what actually happened when you met Ray Robertson. I went down there and found someone who’d seen you go into the house, followed by Robertson, and come out distinctly the worse for wear.’
Barnard touched the bruises on his jaw with an exploratory finger and nodded. ‘I didn’t dodge fast enough,’ he said. ‘I should have told Mr Jackson the whole story. I was worried that if I admitted to seeing Ray at all the DCI would put the worst interpretation on it.’
‘It would have avoided a lot of trouble,’ Jamieson said as Barnard picked his way through the prints. ‘I’ve told Jackson what happened to you and Kate over the weekend. I thought he needed to know before your interview. It’s relevant as Destry and some of his mates were arrested and charged, which means it will be all over the papers any minute as soon as the Standard and the News are on the streets.’
‘I’m not sure he’ll think there’s anything there to help me,’ Barnard said. He turned back to Kate’s pictures. ‘Here’s your man Cotton at the Late Supper Club, and I saw him myself coming out of the Delilah. Is he bent? What the hell’s he up to?’
‘I’m not sure yet,’ DI Jamieson said with a shrug. ‘But I intend to find out. I’ve a suspicion he could have been bought, but no reliable evidence.’
Barnard flicked over another print. ‘So there was a fire in that tower. Kate didn’t invent it, though it obviously scared her rigid.’
‘We’ll have to talk to her about that eventually. We think Destry may have been storing stuff in the tower and someone set it alight deliberately. I’ve got the forensic team sifting through what’s left.’ He looked at Barnard for a moment in silence.
‘Would you consider joining the drug squad?’ he asked quietly.
‘You’re joking,’ Barnard said. ‘Why the hell would you want someone with my record?’
‘Partly because of what I think Cotton’s got up to so quickly over the last couple of weeks. If he’s been bought, and that’s always a risk with cops who are dealing with criminals who have large amounts of money, I’ll have him.’
‘And you think I can’t be bought?’ Barnard asked slightly incredulously.
‘Given what’s happened in Soho since these new thugs have tried to move in, and how close to home it’s come for you, I think I can be pretty sure that you’ll always know which side you’re on.’
Barnard took a deep breath. ‘Can I think about it?’ he asked. ‘And talk to Kate.’
‘Sure,’ Jamieson said. ‘I need to tie up some lose ends around the Destry case. I’ll see you after your session with the brass. Good luck.’
DS Harry Barnard stood for a moment outside the DCI’s office door and gave himself a moment before he knocked. When the call to enter came he squared his shoulders and followed the secretary’s wave to go into the inner office. As he expected, Jackson was not alone. DI Fred Watson was standing looking out of the window behind the DCI with his hands behind his back and, when he spun round as Barnard came in, he had a look of extreme dissatisfaction on his face. The two senior officers did not speak for a moment, leaving Barnard to take in the table where four seats were waiting with pads and pens and glasses of water ready for a formal meeting. DCI Jackson eventually stood up.
‘DS Barnard, I have to tell you that this interview has been postponed for the time being. I have been informed by DI Jamieson what has happened over the weekend and how you became involved in an operation launched by the drug squad. I suggest you take the rest of the day off and we’ll discuss your problems later in the week when your young lady has recovered from her unfortunate experience.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Barnard said, feeling even more disoriented by relief than he would have been if they had suspended him on the spot. He turned and headed back to the door, aware that DI Watson was following very close behind him.
As he turned towards the CID squad room, Watson came up alongside him and leaned close. ‘Don’t think that’s the end of it, Barnard,’ the DI said. ‘He said it was postponed not cancelled. Next time I should bring a union rep with you. You’ll bloody well need one.’ Watson accelerated towards the stairs and did not look back while Barnard headed to his desk and picked up the phone to ring the hospital, but before he had time to reach Kate’s ward, DI Jamieson had appeared at his side.
‘I gather it didn’t happen quite as planned for you,’ he said.
‘That was down to you, was it?’ Barnard asked. ‘Fred Watson is not best pleased. Anyway, thanks.’
‘It’s a get out of jail free card for now, but we won’t make it stick unless I can derail Cotton and prove he’s lying. If he persuades them that you’re still in cahoots with Ray Robertson they’ll have you out, one way or another.’
‘So what do you reckon?’
‘This man Minelli is the key. Cotton is easy enough to read, I can deal with him. But we’re no further forward with Minelli. Who the hell is he? Where does he come from? Who is he working for? And what exactly is he selling? We need much more. Tell me who to talk to. You see how your girl’s doing and take her home. And get some sleep before you come in tomorrow. We’ll talk then. I’ve told my boss that I’ll be here working on this case. That will keep you out of trouble for a bit.’
Barnard collected Kate from the hospital at the end of the day, with the consultant’s acquiescence if not blessing, and put her to bed.
‘Sleep,’ he said after he had made her a mug of hot chocolate and tucked her up with a kiss. She was, he thought, already looking more her normal self and he was slowly beginning to believe the doctor’s verdict that no serious harm had been done.
‘It wasn’t your fault, Harry,’ she said. ‘Dave and I decided to go to the party.’
‘That’s one take on it,’ Barnard said non-committally. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning. In fact, there’s quite a lot to talk about in the morning.’ He dropped a plastic bag on to the bed.
‘The nurse gave me that. It’s your belongings they took off you in Casualty. I’m afraid your green silk dress looks pretty bedraggled. I don’t think that will be going to many more parties. I liked that dress,’ he mumbled before he realized that she was already asleep.
Barnard had reluctantly spent the night on his sofa and was wakened by a phone c
all soon after seven. He picked it up in the hall and hoped the sound had not wakened Kate. Jamieson was at the other end and sounded stressed already.
‘I tried to find your mate Vince Beaufort last night without any luck. I know he’s a poof and could have slept anywhere from Maidenhead to Margate, but do you know if he has a place of his own?’
‘He’s usually around Soho but recent events have probably made him much more cautious about where he’s seen,’ Barnard said. ‘And it’s very early for him to be out of bed.’
‘What’s your situation? How’s the girlfriend?’ Jamieson asked, almost as an afterthought.
‘She’s home and asleep.’
‘Can you get into the nick today? I think you should if you can. Bob Cotton is a loose cannon and he won’t give up if he thinks he can still get away with anything. I wanted to go to my boss and get him taken out of Soho but the guv’nor says we haven’t got enough evidence. I think he’d prefer to get you suspended for the duration.’
‘Give me an hour, guv,’ Barnard said, not wanting to be bullied into anything Kate could not cope with. ‘I’ll call you at the nick by eight thirty.’
‘Do that,’ Jamieson said as Barnard realized that Kate was standing in her pyjamas by the living-room door listening to him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize you were awake. How are you feeling?’
‘I feel fine,’ she said with a smile which she no doubt thought was normal but was not quite there yet. ‘Do you have to go to work?’
‘I’m afraid so. I thought maybe you would be OK if I took you over to Tess’s place so you’re not on your own. And I’ll ring the agency to tell Ken you won’t be in for a few days.’
‘Fine,’ she said.
‘And you won’t let Dave – or anyone else – take you to any parties? The drug squad want Dave to stay in London while he makes a statement about everything that happened so he’ll be around. Tess won’t be too pleased with that.’
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