His Wrath is Come (P&R5)

by Tim Ellis

  ‘Hang on,’ Kowalski said. ‘You’re treating this like a murder investigation, but you’ve still got no bodies. And correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you say that these people knew they were going?’

  Richards shuffled in her chair to face Kowalski. ‘That’s true, but we also think they’re all dead.’

  ‘It’s a sham,’ Ed offered. ‘They’re being lured to their deaths by the promise of something better?’

  ‘That’s what I think,’ Richards said.

  ‘Let’s keep on track,’ Parish said steering the conversation back. ‘So, we have two strands to the investigation – the past and the present. Lola, the focus is on you.’

  ‘I don’t know if’n I’m keen on being the focus.’

  ‘You’ve only gone back to 1984 because prior to that we have no computer records. Now, we need to find out when it all began.’

  ‘That’s a lot of paper records, and they ain’t stored here either.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘In the storage unit at Romford, but Devil’s Spawn will never let me go there.’

  ‘Inspector Threadneedle,’ Parish clarified for Ed and Kowalski’s benefit.’

  They smiled and nodded in agreement.

  ‘That’s all right Lola, I think I know of two other people who are eager to get their hands dirty.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of us, are you?’ Ed said.

  Parish made a show of looking around. ‘Do you see anyone else here?’

  ‘Ray, he’s talking about us.’

  ‘Sounds good to me, Ed. It’ll get us out of the station, and if I’m not mistaken there’s a good pub round the corner from there. I’ve about had it with report-writing.’

  ‘I ain’t keen on two drunks rifling through my drawers,’ Lola said.

  ‘The pub’s for food, Lola,’ Kowalski said and smiled.

  ‘Oh, in that case you’ll need to know where my records are.’

  Kowalski and Ed stared at her.

  ‘You don’t think it’s a room with a few filing cabinets in, do you? This storage unit contains the whole of Essex’s paper records from before 1984. If’n I didn’t tell you where to find them you could be lost in there forever. There are still three people who went in there in 1994 that they can’t find.’

  Kowalski and Ed laughed.

  ‘You want Row CAH, follow it down until you reach the Blueberry junction, then take the concrete steps to the 7th basement. You’ll find my cabinets in Row JBF, and the records are in hypothetical order.’

  ‘And while we’re getting our hands dirty, backache, eye strain, and consumption,’ Kowalski said. ‘What are you two fine upstanding citizens going to be doing?’

  ‘Well, the other strand, of course, is the present. We need to try and find out where all the missing people went, but we also need some leads. With Lola’s permission, Richards and I will examine the records of the MPs we know about and see if we can find anything.’

  ‘So, we think we’ve got the “why”,’ Ed said. ‘Ray and me are looking for the “when” and the “who”, and you and Richards are searching for the “where”?’

  ‘That’s about it, Ed.’ He checked his watch. It was twenty past five. ‘Right...’

  The door opened and Toadstone appeared.

  ‘I thought I’d find you conspirators in here.’

  Parish raised his eyebrows. ‘Conspirators! No, you’re thinking of the last case. During this investigation we’re just normal people going about our day-to-day business.’

  ‘If you say so, Sir.’

  ‘So what brings you out of your sterile environment into the cruel grubby world, Toadstone?’

  ‘These.’ He waved a sheaf papers in his left hand. ‘I expected somebody to come knocking on my door for them.’

  ‘We never knock on your door.’

  ‘Well, if you did.’

  Parish took the phone records from Toadstone. ‘You’re a godsend, a saviour.’

  ‘A blind woman to Kevin Costner in The Postman, 1997.’

  Richards laughed. ‘You’re never going to catch Paul out, Sir.’

  ‘One of these days I will, and then who will you cheer on?’

  ‘The day you beat me hasn’t been invented yet, Sir,’ Toadstone said over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

  ‘As I was saying, we all know what we’re doing tomorrow, don’t we?’

  There were nods around the table.

  He said to Kowalski, ‘Make sure you’ve got Lola’s number, so if you get into trouble down there you can ring her. Meet tomorrow afternoon in here at four for an update. Come on Richards, the Chief will be waiting.’

  Chapter Nine

  Briefing the Chief didn’t take very long at all because Parish was still in shock from walking past Debbie Shinwell’s old desk outside the Chief’s office. Sitting in the high-backed five-wheeled executive chair was the Chief’s new secretary – Carrie Holden – looking as beautiful as ever in a clinging white sleeveless polo neck lambswool top with a long necklace of dark grey beads to match her skirt. She had grown her blonde hair just past her shoulders, and her skin looked as though she’d just had a full facial at the spa.

  ‘Hello, Jed,’ she said, but he knew that’s not what she meant.

  His bottom jaw dropped as if the elastic connecting it to the top jaw had snapped, and his mouth was a gaping hole full of words he couldn’t fit together to formulate a response.

  Richards grabbed his arm and propelled him towards the Chief’s door. ‘Come on, Sir, we haven’t got time for chit chat, or anything else for that matter.’

  He gave Carrie a weak smile.

  ‘You’ve met my new secretary?’ the Chief had said.

  Richards grunted. ‘We already know her, Chief.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘She was the Finance Officer’s secretary at Redbridge Council on my first case with DI Parish. We met her there.’

  ‘No need for introductions then, and you’ll get along just fine.’

  When they’d finished the briefing at five to six, and walked past the secretary’s desk on their way out, Carrie had gone home.

  ‘She can’t stay here.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You know why not?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You had an affair with her.’

  ‘That was ages ago, and now I’m married to your mother with a baby on the way.'

  ‘We’ll have to get rid of her.’

  ‘You’re not listening to me, Richards. The Chief has employed Carrie as her new secretary.’

  ‘You still remember her name then?’

  ‘Yes, I’m not completely senile yet.’

  ‘Do you think if I tell the Chief what happened she’ll get rid of her?’

  ‘I know you think you’re protecting the interests of your mother, but you don’t need to. In fact, if you interfere I’ll transfer you back to Cheshunt.’

  ‘Thus leaving the way clear for you to renew your acquaintance with Charlotte the Harlot.’

  ‘Her name’s Carrie... Carrie Holden.’

  ‘Oh, so you remember her second name as well?’

  ‘She’s married like me.’

  ‘That didn’t stop her sinking her claws into you before.’

  He had a feeling he was wading through treacle. ‘Forget all about her, Richards. Tomorrow I’m going to tell the Chief that you’re trying to get rid of Carrie and that if anything strange should happen, to check that it wasn’t you that made it happen. If the Chief finds out you did the dirty on her new secretary you’ll get the sack.’

  ‘You wouldn’t?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid I would. Carrie’s obviously got the job on merit, and she doesn’t need you sabotaging her first few weeks. She’s married with two children and probably needs the job.’

  ‘You’re taking her side over mine?’

  ‘There are no sides, there’s just you trying to get rid of someone you thi
nk is a threat to your mother. Well, she’s not, so leave her alone.’

  ‘Okay, if you say so, Sir.’

  She had acquiesced too easily. He knew damn well that she hadn’t given up. ‘I’m warning you.’

  Kowalski and Ed were just leaving, so they walked down the stairs to the car park with them.

  ‘Have you seen the Chief’s hot new secretary?’ Kowalski said.

  ‘DI Parish beat you to her, Sir,’ Richards said.

  ‘Will you stop spreading the details of my personal life around the station, Richards.’

  ‘You’re a bit of a dark horse, Parish.’

  ‘It was a while ago. She’s married with two children, so forget about her.’

  Outside they crunched over the gravel.

  Parish said, ‘Hang on a minute, Ray.’ He opened the boot of the Saab and took two bottles of Epping Green Ruination out of the plastic bag. ‘Have one of these each.’

  ‘Sir,’ Richards butted in. ‘Aren’t you going to tell them...’

  ‘Yes, of course I’m going to tell them where we got it, stop interfering all the time.’

  ‘Huh!’

  ‘They were given as a gift from a grateful member of the public today. It’s homemade beer. I had a glass, and very tasty it is too. Enjoy.’ He handed one each to Kowalski and Ed.

  ‘Thanks Parish, you’re a brick,’ Kowalski said. ‘I’ll have it with my dinner tonight.’

  Once they’d dropped off the Saab and Richards had climbed into Parish’s car she said, ‘You didn’t tell them about the side effects of that beer.’

  ‘I know,’ he said and burst out laughing.

  ‘That’s not nice, Sir.’

  ***

  Angie was on her way out as they were on their way in.

  ‘It’s a good job I’ve already got you pregnant,’ Parish said standing in the driveway.

  ‘Oh, why’s that?’

  He grabbed her round the waist and kissed her on the lips. ‘Because the amount of time we spend together there wouldn’t be much chance of you conceiving now.’

  ‘There won’t be much chance of you getting your arms around my waist soon.’

  ‘What waist?’

  ‘Exactly, I’m beginning to feel like the world’s fattest woman. Soon, I’ll be able to get a job in the circus.’

  ‘I’m sure people would flock to see you from miles around.’

  ‘You’re too kind.’ She wriggled free. ‘Dinner’s in the oven.’

  ‘Have a good night, my love.’

  And she was gone.

  Inside, Richards had already changed into her Tigger pyjamas and was serving up the dinner of baked chicken and vegetables.

  ‘Are you not coming then?’ he said.

  ‘You think I’m going to wear the same clothes I’ve been wearing all day?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Women are different.’

  ‘If you hadn’t told me, I don’t think I would ever have noticed.’

  ‘I’m glad I could help.’

  ‘When we pick her up, then what?’

  ‘Are we not bringing her back here?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘While I’m walking Digby book her a room in a local hotel. We can then take her there, and have our conversation in the bar. I’ll have a Guinness and you can drive back.’

  ‘Okay. What about the telephone records?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Do they give us any leads?’

  ‘I haven’t looked at them yet.’ He’d put them in his briefcase at the station to look at later after they’d met with the reporter.

  ‘Now would be a good time.’

  ‘I’m eating.’

  She stood up. ‘Are they in your briefcase?’

  ‘Sit down I’ll get them. You remind me of Walnut with your persistence and in the right light...’

  ‘Walnut?’

  ‘Annie Allsop’s Staffordshire Bull Terrier.’

  ‘You think I look like a dog?’

  ‘Absolutely not, I said you had his persistence.’ He put the telephone records on the table. ‘Do you want to look at these, or not?’

  ‘If I thought...’

  ‘Ah, there we have it, an admission that you never think.’

  ‘It’s an expression.’ She separated the telephone records and gave him Allan Cousins’ while she kept Alice Cooper’s.

  ‘You’re working backwards?’

  ‘Oh, of course.’

  Toadstone’s minions had checked every number on the list and expanded on the details provided by the airtime provider. The majority of Allan Cousins’ calls were to people they already knew about such as Peter Field, his mother’s house, his work number, and Ruthie Suddick, which he ignored, but one call had been highlighted.

  ‘Look at the highlighted number,’ he said to Richards.

  ‘It’s a throw-away phone, no longer active.’

  ‘Yes, but what’s interesting is that two or more phones or SIM cards were purchased at the same place.’

  Richards stood up and put the two sheets of paper together to compare the details of the calls. ‘They’re different numbers.’

  ‘Yes, but both numbers were purchased at the same place – Mobiles2Go – on 10th September last year and the year before.’

  Richards’ eyes opened wide. ‘Staple Tye shopping centre, and we have a security DVD for the 10th September last year.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Do you think it’s the break we’ve been looking for?’

  ‘Maybe, but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.’ Unfortunately, the DVD was in forensics with Toadstone. ‘In the meantime I have an eager dog to walk, and you have some pots to wash.’

  As soon as Parish stood up and reached for Digby’s lead hanging on the wall hook he knew exactly what time it was, and began wagging his tail and dancing on his back legs.

  ‘You could wash the pots when you come back.’

  ‘I could, but then you wouldn’t get any pocket money.’

  ‘As if.’

  Even though rain clouds were gathering overhead, it was a warm evening. Darkness was beginning to shoulder out the daytime, but he didn’t need a Davy lamp yet.

  Could the break they needed be on that DVD? Maybe a clear picture of the killer, or at least the person who purchased the phones, but it was best not to get his hopes up. He would expect Richards to get excited at the possibility, but he knew better. He’d been too long in the job to know that finding a killer who didn’t want to be found wasn’t as simple as identifying him on a security DVD, finding out where he lived, and then knocking on his door. Life and death was a lot more complicated than that. Whoever ran the universe would make him struggle across a diabolically difficult obstacle course before he either succeeded or failed in his efforts to catch the killer.

  The ancient Greek view of the Gods drinking nectar atop Mount Olympus and moving humans about like pieces on a chessboard was an apt analogy – The Twelve Labours of Hercules and The Odyssey came to mind. Not that he compared himself to Odysseus or Hercules, but rather the trials and tribulations they had to endure to succeed in their endeavours.

  Tomorrow, he’d get Toadstone to check out that DVD and see where it led them – if anywhere. There might very well be nothing at all relating to Mobiles2Go. They’d have to be pretty lucky to have a shot of the killer walking out of the shop just after he’d bought the phones and waving at the camera. What would be more likely is that they would have a picture of the killer on the DVD, but not know it. Without being able to connect the shoppers to the shop, the killer would just be another face in the crowd. While Toadstone was doing that they’d go to the shopping centre again, get the manager of Mobiles2Go to check the record of purchases, and hope the killer used his credit card.

  What the hell was Carrie doing applying for a job in the very place where he worked? She must have known he worked there. Maybe she’d forgotten, or maybe it didn’
t enter into her calculations. The way she’d said, “Hello, Jed,” told him she knew exactly what she was doing. What the hell was she up to? It wasn’t as if he could avoid her, she’d be there every day when he and Richards went to brief the Chief. As for Richards, he could see trouble looming. She definitely wasn’t happy that Carrie had got the job. Why did life have to be so complicated?

  And tonight he had to contend with meeting a reporter who might know who his parents were, and who he was. Richards meant well, but sometimes she was like a bull in a china shop. Fancy bringing the reporter to the place where they lived. It would have been better to meet her in London. He hoped he wasn’t being paranoid, but he had a bad feeling about the whole business. A secret group of Freemasons called P2 didn’t bear thinking about. He’d listen to what she had to say, and if she had some answers that would be great, but if not... What would he do? Hadn’t he already resigned himself to simply being Jed Parish? What he didn’t want to do was invite trouble into his life again.

  ***

  Rowan Grieg was in her late forties, or possibly early fifties, with washed-out grey hair reaching to her shoulders. Her face was still fresh and youthful, but if people looked closely enough, they would be able to detect the elasticity of her skin being devoured by the ravages of time. The wrinkles hadn’t yet made their appearance, but they were waiting to radiate across her face and neck like cracks in ice.

  The 7:45 train from London Liverpool Street arrived at Chigwell station at 7:47. By the time Rowan Grieg had exited through the barrier it was 7:49.

  ‘DI Jed Parish,’ he said offering to take her overnight bag. ‘I believe you’ve already spoken to my partner Constable Richards on the phone?’

  Rowan Grieg smiled showing white even teeth. ‘Yes,’ she said letting Parish take her bag. ‘Be careful with that it has my laptop in.’

  He thought; and the kitchen sink, a blacksmith’s anvil, and a lead box containing a set of weights. Thankfully, it wasn’t far to the car, so he made it look as though he was carrying a bag of cotton wool balls. When they reached the car and he put the bag in the boot he was sure his right arm had grown six inches longer than his left arm. Once Rowan Grieg had shuffled into the back seat he stood for a second looking around the car park.