by Frank Lean
‘Hell’s teeth! Don’t you think I know that? Heads are going to roll over this one.’
‘They certainly are, Inspector,’ Marvin said. ‘My client couldn’t possibly have been involved.’
‘The cunning bastard who snatched the kids arranged for the child minder not to be there.’
‘Oh God!’ I muttered. I could feel the stitches in my scalp pulling tight.
‘Not you, Dave. Don’t worry,’ he said, nervously smoothing my pillow.
‘Fine, I won’t worry. Jenny and Lloyd have disappeared but now I don’t need to worry because the police don’t think it was me.’
‘No need for sarcasm, Dave. There’ve been mistakes all round and not least by Ms White. Apparently she thought the child minder would be looking after the kids until six this Friday.’
‘What happened to the child minder?’ I asked.
‘I’m coming to that.’
‘Has no one heard of mobile phones?’ I murmured.
‘Ms White had hers switched off for some reason. She says that’s your fault.’
‘Oh,’ I muttered.
‘Ms White didn’t get nervous until she arrived at the child minder’s house at six in the evening to collect her kids. It was hysterics all round then because they weren’t there. A male phoned at three p.m. and told the child minder’s fourteen-year-old daughter that he was picking up the Talbot children and the minder didn’t need to bother. The child minder assumed that it was you. Up until recently you often picked them up.’
I grunted by way of assent.
‘I gather you and Janine have split up, Dave. I’m sorry, but that phone call seems to be the main reason why you were in the frame. Sorry, mate.’
‘That’s all right, Bren. I probably needed a CAT-scan and a brain operation.’
‘Joke if you like, but things happen fast in a child abduction case. You know that. By the time one of the geniuses outside thought to ask the child minder’s daughter to describe the voice of the man who phoned her it was four a.m. and you were already in here being operated on. The child minder’s kid says the man had a “well-spoken” voice, upper class like Prince Charles, so that rules you out, Dave. We’ve now interviewed the kids who saw Jenny and Lloyd getting into the car. They say the bloke had a thin, hatchet-like face and a big nose and was driving a BMW, so that lets you out again, doesn’t it?’
‘Wouldn’t it have been simple enough to check if I was in my office?’
‘They did, but you were out.’
‘Only for a few minutes while I got some sandwiches.’
‘This was an urgent enquiry, mate. Someone slipped up. They thought the office was empty.’
‘I’m making a note of all these blunders, Inspector,’ Marvin said menacingly. ‘My client’s in hospital because of crass police stupidity.’
‘You do what you want, sunshine,’ Bren told him.
‘Racial abuse now! Just wait!’
‘I’m sorry, Marvin, can you leave that for now?’ I pleaded.
‘Don’t let them take an inch, Mr Cunane. That’s what we’ve learned in the community.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Bren said. ‘I call everyone sunshine; black, white or polka dot.’
‘Institutional racism!’ Marvin snorted before shutting up.
‘Why did Janine think I would have harmed the children? I can’t believe it.’
‘You’ll have to ask her yourself. She’s asked to see you if that’s OK with you.’
‘But she was so venomous. She wanted to scratch my eyes out.’
‘Dave, you’ve got to understand what she’s been through. There’s more . . . When Jenny and Lloyd were reported missing we did a search of the local area . . .’
‘Which is where?’
‘Sorry, you’ll have to ask her that. I’m not permitted to tell you. A search was done to check that they weren’t playing in the streets or at a friend’s house. Then Ms White said they might have gone to the flat at Thornleigh Court if they were wandering outside school. They don’t know the district where they’re living now. When uniformed branch got to Thornleigh Court they found that someone had stuffed two bloodstained school shirts into Ms White’s letter box.’
‘What sort of sicko does that?’
‘I dunno, I was hoping you might have some ideas. They’re checking the blood groups. Anyway, the next thing is, they come up against the armoured door of your flat. I’m sorry, Dave, but all these young constables have seen lots of horror films – they started jumping to conclusions.’
‘They’ll be jumping to more than that when I put in our claim for damages,’ Marvin said.
‘Will you see her?’ Bren asked, ignoring Marvin.
I nodded my head. He went out and Marvin followed him.
50
JANINE LOOKED SHATTERED.
Her hair was lank with sweat. There were lines on her face that I’d never noticed before, and her eyes seemed to have sunk into their sockets. You’d have put her age nearer to sixty than thirty if you hadn’t known.
She stood at the door looking at me for what felt like an age. I wanted to go and hug her but I couldn’t move. I was embarrassed because my bandage-swathed face was so inexpressive. I didn’t know what to say.
‘Janine . . .’ I mumbled. I felt as guilty as hell.
She didn’t speak. I didn’t want her to speak. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Finally, she came close and looked at my wound for a moment. Then she put her hand over her mouth. ‘We can’t go on meeting like this, Dave,’ she said and then gave a nervous laugh.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I should never have taken this risk. This is my fault.’
‘No, it’s Henry and that bitch Marti. They’re in a different league from us. Nobody could expect they’d be so cruel.’
‘It’s still my fault.’
‘Cullen says they thought they were going to lose you.’
‘It looks worse than it is.’
‘Dave! They had to pump more than three pints of blood into you and it’s all because I was certain you’d taken Jenny and Lloyd to spite me. I got the police so wound up that they were bound to lash out. An inch or so lower and they’d have had your eye out.’
‘I’ve had worse.’
‘Cut out that stiff-upper-lip nonsense, Dave. You’ve been horribly injured. It’s because I’m so stupid. Be told, and stop being so noble.’
‘Sorry, Janine.’
‘Stop apologising and get angry with me.’
‘I can’t. This is all my own fault, not yours.’
‘Dave, I didn’t come here for a self-abasement contest with you.’
‘What did you come for?’
She stuck her chin out and flicked her hair back in that characteristic way. ‘Cunane, you big ape! I came to tell you that I need you more than anyone except the children. I won’t be able to cope if you die as well as Jenny and Lloyd.’
‘Jenny and Lloyd aren’t dead.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Who has a key to the entrance of Thornleigh Court besides you and me?’
‘Henry. I thought of him first, but we were all so certain that it was you who picked the kids up.’
‘It was Henry and it is my fault more than yours. That stunt with the bloody shirts is just what a geek like Henry who’s been in Hollywood for years would come up with. He’s trying to throw you off the scent while he gets the children out of the country. He wouldn’t harm his own children, would he?’
‘I don’t know,’ Janine said uncertainly. ‘I don’t think he would, but suppose that horrible woman has made him hand them over to her so that she can blackmail you into leaving her father in prison . . .’
‘Janine, love,’ I said gently. ‘Marti’s a piece of work all right, but I don’t think she’d harm the children. Henry’s acting on his own.’
‘How can you be sure? She threatened you at the New Year party.’
‘I’m a fool. I should have agreed to hav
e nothing more to do with the Vince King case when she offered to ship Henry back if I let it drop . . .’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I couldn’t have known this was going to happen. You told me that Henry Talbot comes from a legal background. I couldn’t have known he’d snatch his children off the street. I thought that the worst that could happen was a court case that you were bound to win.’
‘You’re so stubborn! You weren’t going to let any woman tell you what to do, whether it was me or Marti.’
‘It’s not like that. You can’t let criminals dictate your life to you.’
‘Oh, so she’s a criminal now, is she?’
‘I’ve found proof that the evidence at King’s trial was rigged. She knows it, and Brandon Carlyle knows it. That’s why they don’t want Vince out. They’re scared he’ll upset their lucrative little empire.’
‘The great detective triumphs and I lose my kids!’ Janine said bitterly.
‘Don’t be like that. The two things are unrelated. We’ll sort Henry Talbot out.’
‘What are you going to do?’
The question was so ridiculous that we both managed a grim smile. I hadn’t enough energy to blow up a balloon, let alone sort anybody out.
‘I’m going to do nothing but I know someone who will take action.’
‘Who?’
‘Clyde Harrow.’
‘Him!’ Janine’s face turned crimson. ‘Why should he lift a finger to help us?’
‘I’ll come up with a few reasons, don’t worry.’
‘Shouldn’t we tell the police?’
‘What police?’ I asked. She turned and looked at the corridor. Where moments before there’d been a platoon of coppers now there was just space.
‘Where’ve they all gone?’
‘They’ve gone off shift, love; and someone’s decided that the disappearance of your children’s just a domestic problem now they know their father’s got them. You haven’t got any kind of court order forbidding Henry from seeing the children, have you?’
‘I have full custody. Henry’s visiting rights were just a voluntary agreement, but there’s no court order preventing him from seeing them.’
‘So there you are. I expect he’s thinking of taking them back to the States.’
A determined expression came back into Janine’s face and the wan, fatalistic air of tragedy that she’d brought into the room with her faded. She snatched out her mobile and then remembered where she was and went out for the telephone trolley.
‘Will you phone him or will I?’ she asked.
‘Better me . . .’
‘How nice to hear from one’s friends when sunk in adversity. I don’t think I got your Christmas card this year,’ were Clyde’s first words when I eventually reached him, ‘but if this is about Henry Talbot, forget it. He’s a very dear friend of mine.’
‘Now what makes you think I want to talk about that creep?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said evasively. ‘I just thought you might.’
‘Did you know I’ve split with Janine?’
‘Oh, should I commiserate or congratulate?’
‘Neither, it’s just one of those things. I wanted to discuss a little deal with you but I’m temporarily incapacitated. I was hoping to put a little money your way, seeing as you’re so hard up.’
‘Cunane, pimpo-boy, if you’re phoning at this hour in the morning, or indeed at any other hour, to gloat over my dim financial prospects you’re wasting your time.’
‘Hmmm,’ I said, ‘I can probably do something to improve your cash flow if you get your arse into gear and come down to Wythenshawe Hospital.’
This produced a profound sigh at the other end of the line.
‘I can forgive your crudity, just; but to tantalise a man groaning beneath a mountain of debt is unforgivable,’ he said, ‘and am I to assume that you’ve undertaken paid employment with the Health Service? Possibly you’re hiring yourself out as a trial piece for trainee surgeons?’
‘The way things are going, I might as well do.’
I told him about my injury.
‘Nothing too life threatening, then,’ he said airily. ‘I mean the skull, pretty tough part of your anatomy I should have thought.’
‘I’m here because of police brutality and I was hoping that you could use your media contacts to see that the incident gets maximum publicity,’ I lied. My voice sounded feeble even in my own ears and I hoped that it added some veracity to my pitch.
‘Pimpo-lad! Is this really a case of “Good night, sweet prince”? Hamlet, act five, scene two. I must say I find the thought of your deathbed curiously attractive.’
‘I thought you might.’
‘In normal circumstances I’d be happy to publicise your dying declarations gratis, and for nothing, but now that you have mentioned cash flow I find myself even more drawn by the melodramatic possibilities. Have you any idea of the sort of compensation the police are handing out in these cases? I’d be happy to work for a suitable percentage.’
I gave an increasingly eager Clyde directions on how to reach me. Bankruptcy notwithstanding, he was still in possession of his 4WD vehicle and, to judge by the noises off, also not without a companion to share his debtor’s couch, the lovely Lauren no doubt. I was just about hanging on for all this. I felt attenuated, as if some force was stretching me like those machines they use to make toffee or seaside rock. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes . . .
‘I never knew you could be so crafty,’ Janine whispered.
‘Er, Dave,’ I heard Janine say, ‘Clyde’s coming. I don’t like to wake you but . . .’
‘Get behind the door,’ I ordered. ‘He mustn’t see you until he’s in the room, and then make sure he doesn’t get out.’
Janine darted off.
I’d been asleep for an hour. Curiously the effect of the massive blood transfusion wasn’t enervating. Maybe the blood had come from paratroopers or members of some other aggressive force, but I felt more than ready to tackle the problems of the day.
‘Clyde, old fruit . . .’
‘No, young man, I may be temporarily separated from my electronic pulpit but I will not be addressed as “old fruit”,’ he replied grandly and then turning as if to leave he caught sight of Janine.
‘Hah! A subterfuge, I should have expected as much,’ he said theatrically. Janine took a menacing step towards him and he drew back. ‘What, no iced water, madam? No handy bedpan to drench poor Clyde with?’
‘Oh, stop it!’ Janine bellowed.
‘All right, Mr Harrow, sir, let’s get serious,’ I said. ‘I want to know everything you know about Henry Talbot. There might well be a cash reward for the right information.’
‘No, Clyde Harrow is not come down to this!’ he snapped indignantly. ‘Trading a friend for a handful of small change! You assume too much. A temporary sojourn in Carey Street is not sufficient to transform me into a turncoat.’
‘OK, forget it. I was probably clutching at straws anyway. You don’t know anything about Talbot.’
‘But I do! Even a debtor such as myself is entitled to question the creditworthiness of those offering inducements. The last time I saw you, your face was a swollen mass of yellow and purple bruises, and you now appear to have had the top of your head surgically removed. When the time comes for me to collect my reward, will I be standing at a graveside in some chilly cemetery watching your remains disappear for ever?’
‘Janine, you know where I keep my frozen assets. Will you give them to this fraud even if his prophecy comes true?’
She nodded.
‘It’s not a matter of cash. I’m not a hireling,’ Clyde insisted. ‘I don’t take money out of the soiled fist of a private detective, living or dead. Only a position of honour could compensate me.’
‘You want your job back?’
‘How prescient of you! Use your influence with the Carlyles to restore me to my former degree and I will deliver Talbot trussed, stuffed an
d ready for the oven.’
‘Pig!’ Janine snapped. ‘You know where he is and what he’s done but you bargain with my children.’
‘I can do without emotional outbursts from you, dear lady,’ Clyde replied coldly. ‘Your last assault severely damaged my waning credit in Manchester but your summary of the position is essentially accurate. Where you go wrong is in your assumption that Henry Talbot is any less capable of bringing up his children than you are. He intends to make an entirely new life for them in America under an assumed name, and as a mere man myself I don’t see why he shouldn’t be allowed the chance.’
‘Cut the cackle, Harrow,’ I said. ‘Do you know where Talbot is likely to be now?’
‘Within a mile or two,’ he bragged.
Janine looked as if she was about ready to explode. I signalled her to rein back her anger. She got the message and left the room.
‘I’ll do what I can on the job front . . .’
‘Sorry, not good enough! Promises won’t pay my alimony cheques. I will require personal assurance from one of the Carlyles before I move a finger.’
‘You’ll have it,’ I promised.
51
THE TROUBLE WITH head injuries is that you can’t always control what’s happening around you. I told Clyde that I would get him his job back, and there may have been some idea in the back of my mind of trying to blackmail the Carlyles over Vince’s release, but no sooner did I start thinking on those lines than I got a blinding headache. I lay back and must have fallen asleep again.
When I came round this time it was with an abrupt shock.
Janine was wrestling on the floor with a young woman. I thought I was dreaming but the crash of equipment as they rolled over and over was all too real. The woman, who was clad in an Adidas jogging suit and wearing a plastic face mask, was trying to pull something out of a bum-bag and Janine was straining every muscle to prevent her.
‘Dave!’ she gasped. ‘Stop her!’
I tried to struggle out of bed. It was like a waking nightmare. Trying to move was hell. I felt as if I was becalmed in a sea of molten tar.
Janine’s attacker had rolled on top and she was tugging at something shiny and metallic in her bag. It was a gun. I couldn’t move to save my life. I may have shouted. With a yell of triumph the attacker freed the gun and pointed it at me. At that moment Brendan Cullen dived into the room and hit her like a ton of bricks. The gun flew out of her hand and she was hurled against the steel leg of my bed. Her head hit it with a sickening thud and she rolled onto her back.