Through a Glass Darkly (9781301753000)

by Ellis, Tim

‘Yeah, something like that.’

  ‘That’s the rules of the game, Cookie. In war, there’s always the possibility you’re not gonna get mentioned in the New Year’s Honours List. So, you gonna give us the files, or what?’

  ‘You didn’t get them from me.’

  ‘I don’t even know who you are, bitch.’

  ‘I was going to send them to you, but I’ve got a better idea. I’m opening up another online vault in the name of “guyfawkes” – lower case and all one word; password: “gunpowder” – the same; and I’m dumping all the data in there. That way you haven’t got the files on your hard drive. There we are, all done.’ She had planned to delete all the files once she’d passed them along the line, but at the last minute she decided to keep a back-up in the vault just in case.

  ‘Works for me. Hang on . . . Yeah, got it all. Wow, some of this shit should cause serious devastation and mayhem.’

  ‘Remember . . . be careful. Make sure they can’t trace anything back to you.’

  ‘We’re not amateurs. We’ll get our people onto it.’

  ‘You sound like someone from a secret government facility.’

  Annie laughed. ‘I’ve been practising in my spare time.’

  ‘It’s working. Look after yourself, Annie.’

  ‘And you, and thanks for the birthday present.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Happy birthday.’

  The call ended.

  Had she done the right thing? Well, at least she’d warned them that the data was probably a poisoned chalice. And as Annie had said – they weren’t amateurs. She’d done her bit for Queen and country and that’s all anyone could ask of her. All she had to do now was sit back and wait for the devastation and mayhem to kick in.

  Shrek barged in. ‘You going out today?’

  ‘They have doors so that you can knock on them, you know.’

  ‘I was hoping you might have no clothes on.’

  ‘I’m never naked.’

  He rubbed his crotch. ‘Now would be a good time.’

  ‘Now would be a good time to . . .’ Christ! She was going to say, “die”. She didn’t want Shrek to die, he was the only friend she had left. ‘No, I’m not going out.’

  ‘Good, because I am.’ He left.

  She’d told him the day after she’d got back most of what had happened in Basement 7, and he’d surprised her by being kind and understanding.

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘I should never have taken them.’

  ‘They knew what they were letting themselves in for.’

  ‘I don’t think they did – I didn’t.’

  ‘So how could you have warned them what might happen?’

  ‘I should have guessed.’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve got two empty rooms now – we getting more people in?’

  ‘Let’s leave it for a while. We need to clear their rooms anyway. I’ll do that first, then we can get new people in.’ But she hadn’t emptied their rooms. Maybe that’s what she should do today. Maybe it was her job to do that for them – to tie up the loose ends of their lives so that they could rest in peace. Yeah, she’d do that, and put Basement 7 behind her.

  Shrek had said, ‘Have you got anyone in mind?’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking . . .’

  ‘No you weren’t. Your dick was doing the thinking for you.’

  ‘The squat where she’s staying isn’t . . .’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You don’t even know what I was going to say.’

  ‘When you’re speaking your dick moves instead of your mouth, you know. You’re like a talking penis . . . a dickhead if you will.’

  ‘You’d like her.’

  ‘Not as much as you, I’m sure.’

  ‘That’s a no then?’

  ‘Yes that’s a no. You’re not turning this place into your personal harem. We’ll put the word out when I’ve cleared the rooms and then we’ll interview the applicants like normal squatters.’

  ‘A harem would have been good.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Hey, you could’ve been the first lady in the harem, or whatever. I’d fuck you more than the others. You could give birth to my heir . . .’

  ‘I’d get out if I were you, because I’ve heard that there’s a vacancy for a eunuch in the harem.’

  He grinned as he left her room. ‘You’ll be sorry.’

  The only thing she was sorry about was that Romeo and Harley weren’t here anymore.

  ***

  Lieutenant Palmer dropped them off at the Four Seasons hotel in Limassol, and before she left she reminded Parish about a driver collecting him at nine in the morning.

  ‘Maybe we’ll see you again,’ he called from the top of the marble steps leading into the hotel lobby.

  She smiled and tossed over her shoulder, ‘Maybe you will.’

  As the Land Rover disappeared from view Richards said, ‘You fancy her, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do. In fact, I fancy that old woman walking towards us, the male gardener over there and the lizard on the wall.’

  ‘You have some strange ideas.’

  ‘Me? You’re the one that thinks I fancy every woman in existence. I’m married to your mother and I’m a one woman man. Now, shall we sign in and get up to our rooms?’

  ‘I’ll be watching you.’

  ‘From England?’

  ‘See, that’s another reason I should stay here.’

  ‘You’ll be a lot more use there than you will be here.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re sending me back.’

  ‘Believe it.’

  They signed in and handed over their passports. A porter carried their cases and showed them to their rooms. Parish was in number 443, Richards was next door in number 445.

  Feeling like John D Rockefeller, he pressed a ten Euro note into the porter’s hand.

  ‘Thank you, Sir.’

  There was a connecting door. He knocked and Richards opened it.

  ‘I’m going to have a shower, phone the Chief to let him know you’ll be on the next plane back, organise your flight and then have a lie down. I’ll give you a knock at seven and we can have a drink in the bar before going in for dinner.’

  ‘If this is my first and only day here, then I’m going down to the pool to get some sun.’

  ‘Do you want any help?’

  ‘I think I can manage to put my bikini on myself.’

  ‘Well if you do have any problems – ring room service.’

  ‘I might just do that.’

  He closed the door.

  The room was much like the rooms in hotels all over the world. It had a double bed, a couple of easy chairs, a coffee table and a mirror above a cabinet with drawers. There was a shower/bath and toilet behind the door, and a wardrobe opposite. The balcony boasted a white plastic table with four matching chairs and a glorious sea view beyond the hotel swimming pool.

  The weather was modest for the time of year – eighteen degrees. He wasn’t dripping with sweat, but it had been a long journey and he felt sticky and unwashed. After stripping off his clothes, he dived into a cold shower and felt like a new man.

  He was just brushing his teeth when Richards walked in and stuck her head round the door frame.

  ‘Are you really sending me home?’

  Thankfully, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, so he covered his nipples with his hands. ‘I didn’t leave the door open so you could just barge in – knock next time.’

  ‘I did knock. I thought you might have had a heart attack, or something.’’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, I’m in peak physical condition. I was taking a shower.’

  ‘You might want to use the gym while you’re here.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She pointed at the few extra pounds round his midriff that he carried in case of emergencies. ‘Too many fried breakfasts and sugars in your c
offee, I would say.’

  ‘I thought you were going down to the pool.’

  ‘I am. I just popped in to insult you.’

  ‘Well, you’ve done that, so you can go now.’

  ‘You’ll never solve the case without me, you know,’ she said as she hobbled through the connecting door.

  He followed, and just before he shut the door and locked it behind her he said, ‘Wow, I didn’t realise your arse had got so big.’

  She banged on the door with one of her crutches and shouted something that he couldn’t hear.

  He phoned the Chief.

  ‘Kowalski?’

  ‘It’s Jed. We’re here.’

  ‘You’d better not be lying on a sun bed surrounded by bikini-clad babes with a Bahamas Mama in your other hand while you’re talking to me.’

  ‘How could you possibly know that? Have you sent someone to spy on me?’

  ‘I take it you arrived in one piece?’

  ‘Me – yes. Richards is another story.’

  ‘Tell me the gory details.’

  He told Kowalski what had happened. ‘So, I’ll put her on a plane home tomorrow.’

  ‘You won’t.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We don’t want her back here. She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth.’

  ‘She could . . .’

  ‘How would she travel from home to here and back again?’

  ‘Well . . .’

  ‘And then there’s the stairs . . .’

  ‘You’ve got a service lift.’

  ‘Out of action. No, you keep her there.’

  ‘What am I meant to do with her?’

  ‘She’s your partner – think of something. So, how’s it going otherwise?’

  ‘It’s not going at all. What with travelling, hanging around at the hospital for a couple of hours and then getting to the hotel – today’s been a bit of a waste of time. I’m meeting the Air Commodore tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Oh well, give me a call when you know more.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want Richards?’

  ‘No thanks. Gilbert and Koll are up to their eyes with two cases . . . Oh, and Blake came out of her coma this morning.’

  ‘That’s great news. Give her my best, and tell her to stop lying around in hospital . . . In fact, forget the last bit. That’s probably not appropriate.’

  ‘I’ll just say that you and Richards hope she gets better soon.’

  ‘Probably best.’

  The call ended.

  Well, he couldn’t drag Richards round with him all day, he’d never get anything done. He’d just have to leave her here at the hotel. The trouble was, it would be like leaving someone with a raging sweet tooth in a candy store, but what else could he do? Maybe he could ask the Air Commodore if he’d be so kind as to lock her in a cell during the day and then Parish would collect her at night, but he doubted the Air Commodore would go along with that. He could maybe ask for a female soldier to guard her when he wasn’t here, or possibly hotel security.

  He rang Angie.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ he said. ‘I miss you.’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘How was the flight?’

  ‘Do really want to know how your daughter abused the stewardess, fell all the way down the stairs from the plane, had to be taken to hospital in an ambulance and is now hobbling around on crutches?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Is anything broken?’

  ‘Her pride. I’m sure she’ll ring you and tell you that the stewardess pushed her, or something like that.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘Of course not. She tripped all on her own. I was going to send her home, but Ray doesn’t want her cluttering up his squad room, so I’m stuck with her.’

  ‘You poor thing.’

  ‘I know. How’s Jack?’

  ‘He misses his daddy.’

  ‘Give him a kiss goodnight for me. What about Digby?’

  ‘Yes, he’s fine. Sophie is walking him morning and night as instructed.’

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘I was wondering when you’d ask about me.’

  ‘I was saving the best for last.’

  ‘I’m sure. I should have come with you. I need a holiday.’

  ‘We’ve only just come back from America.’

  ‘That was hardly a holiday.’

  ‘Just you and me?’

  ‘And Jack?’

  ‘Of course Jack.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where do you want to go?’

  She sighed. ‘Somewhere hot would be nice.’

  ‘Find somewhere you like and let’s go then.’

  ‘You mean it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Out of season, so that we’re not paying through the nose, and we’re not inundated with kids.’

  ‘You’re such a romantic.’

  ‘I try. Goodnight, my love.’

  ‘Goodnight, darling.’

  The call ended.

  Yes, a holiday would be good.

  He made himself a coffee and took another look at the file. In the mouth of the local woman who had been raped and murdered – Caterina Makhairas – the Cypriot police had found a rolled-up piece of paper with a printed message in English:

  GOD IS WAITING

  Besides the obvious, what did it mean? Would a Cypriot killer have printed the message in English or in Greek? What evidence did the Cypriot police have that pointed the finger of blame at Major Thomas Durrell? Was the disappearance of the three other women connected to this murder? If they were, where were the women being kept? Were they alive or dead? If it was Major Durrell, why had he suddenly started killing? Could he be dealing with a serial killer?

  He hated the beginning of investigations, the fact that there were a whole pile of questions with no answers – he wanted all the answers now. He closed the file and put it on the bedside cabinet.

  According to his watch it was quarter to three – he added two hours so that it read quarter to five. He closed his eyes, but he wasn’t tired. Maybe Richards had the right idea. He got up and knocked on the connecting door.

  ‘Are you there, Richards?’

  No answer.

  He put a pair of swimming shorts on, slipped his feet into his sandals, grabbed a beach towel and slid his sunglasses on top of his head.

  Time to check out the pool.

  He found Richards underneath a plaited reed umbrella on a lounger next to the pool, spotted a vacant lounger further along and dragged it up next to her.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I think you can see what I’m doing.’

  ‘Well, why are you doing it here?’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to attract a man if you’re lying next to me, am I?’

  ‘There’s more to life than men.’

  ‘That’s easy for you say.’

  ‘You know, if you get a suntan, half your leg will be white.’

  ‘Very helpful. I thought you were sleeping?’

  ‘I wasn’t tired.’

  He signalled to a passing waiter.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘Piña colada, please.’

  ‘At this time of day?’

  ‘I’m on holiday.’

  ‘No you’re not, you’re here to work.’

  ‘Correction – I was here to work – now I’m on holiday.’

  ‘Correction – you’re still here to work.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He ordered a lager and an orange juice.

  ‘I’ve decided not to send you home.’

  Richards’ face lit up. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘The Chief didn’t want me back, did he?’

  ‘No . . . but not because you wouldn’t be an i
nvaluable member of his team. He was thinking more about what a pain in the arse you’d be with your leg.’

  ‘I would not.’

  ‘Getting to and from work, attending the doctors, the hospital, moving about in the station, whining and so on. He didn’t want the hassle.’

  ‘I see. So, we’re a partnership again?’

  ‘I don’t want the hassle either.’

  The waiter brought their drinks and he signed the bill to charge the cost to his room.

  ‘What am I supposed to do then?’

  ‘You can relax by the pool all day, and when I get back at night we can talk over the case like we usually do.’

  ‘You still want my help then?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Okay. It’ll be like being on holiday.’

  ‘You’re not to talk to any men during the day though.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Ah! If we’re talking about ridiculousness then I could refresh your memory with a long list of . . .’

  ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’

  ‘Huh!’

  Chapter Four

  The A406 was reduced to a single lane of rubberneckers in slow-moving vehicles hoping to catch a glimpse of a dead body, maybe a severed head or leg, or at least some pools of blood drying in the brisk April sunshine. They were disappointed. The traffic cops, under the command of Inspector Vinesh Singh, had screened off the mangled wrecks of three cars. Three police cars, two ambulances, a fire engine and a forensics truck also acted as substantial barriers between the devastation and the onlookers.

  ‘Hello, Sir.’ He offered his hand to a man in his late fifties wearing a hi-vis jacket and a turban. ‘DS Gilbert, and this is DC Koll.’

  He shook both their hands. ‘Yes, pleased to meet you. DCI Kowalski said you would be coming along.’ He signalled them to follow him. ‘Three cars, as you can see. Sadly, seven injured and the lead driver dead.’ He led them to what looked like a blue Volvo estate that had come to a rest on its side at a forty-five degree angle pointing up the grassy bank of the hard shoulder. ‘Here, this is what you have come to see.’

  They had to scramble up the bank and dig their heels into the ground to get a firm position so that they could look inside the car. The bullet hole through the driver’s side of the shattered windscreen was clearly evident, as was the middle-aged female driver still strapped into her seat and covered in blood.