A Good Death

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A Good Death Page 12

by Chris Collett


  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Sam didn’t even last the course on his stag night. We were all getting stuck in, having a good time, and suddenly, about half eleven, he said he’d had enough and he was calling it a night.’

  ‘Perhaps he was just tired,’ said Millie.

  Nathan scoffed. ‘Not many blokes walk out on their own stag night, do they? It crossed my mind then that he’d got other plans.’

  ‘Like seeing this other woman?’

  ‘Last chance before he’s married, isn’t it?’ said Nathan.

  ‘Tell me about her,’ said Millie.

  ‘That’s the thing,’ said Nathan. ‘I can’t, because we never knew who she was. Sam was always very secretive about her. We assumed she was married, older than us and more sophisticated. The pattern was that he would disappear for whole weekends, so we always thought whoever it was, was making the most of the old man being out of the way.’

  ‘So what happened?’ asked Millie.

  ‘Whatever happens? She dumped him. Not long before he took his finals, Sam went off for the weekend with her, but came back early the next day and said it was over. He was in bits. It really screwed up his exams. Anyway, that stag weekend did make me wonder if he’d arranged to hook up with her again, one last time before he tied the knot, you know? But I’m just guessing. Maybe you’re right and he was just knackered.’

  ‘Sam told Gaby he has to work away some weekends, but we know that it’s not true,’ said Millie.

  Nathan grinned. ‘There you go then. Cheeky sod,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t be doing with it – all the sneaking around – but I think Sam gets a real buzz out of it.’

  ‘And you really have no idea who this woman might be?’ asked Millie.

  Nathan smiled. ‘One thing about Sam, he can always keep you on your toes. I’ve known him since we were at school, and he’s not an easy person to get close to. He thrives on secrecy and all that. We were all eaten up with curiosity, of course.’ He looked suddenly guilty. ‘I tried to follow him once, just before it all finished. Managed to stay with him as far as the M42, but then I lost him; didn’t know which way he went.’

  ‘What made you think this woman was older and sophisticated?’ asked Millie.

  ‘The whole set-up, I suppose. When he was seeing her he always took real care with what he was wearing. She bought him this really smart leather holdall thing. We used to call it his shag bag, because he always took it with him.’ He frowned. ‘That’s the other thing – I hadn’t seen it in a while, but the night I picked Sam up for his stag do, it was there, sitting on the floor in his flat. I made some joke about it. That’s what made me think about that woman again, I suppose.’

  Millie remembered the Valentine cards. ‘Did Sam have a pet name for this woman?’ she asked. ‘Did he ever refer to her as his “Little Bear”?’

  Dornham scoffed. ‘Not that he told me. But I wouldn’t be surprised.’ He stubbed out his cigarette on the arm of the bench. ‘I should be heading back,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’ve got to get over to Highbury this afternoon.’

  They began walking back up the footpath. ‘Gaby’s young and single,’ Millie said, pointing out the obvious. ‘So not what you’d call Sam’s usual type. Have you ever had reason to think he might be regretting the commitment to her?’

  ‘What with her pedigree and her money? I don’t think so,’ said Dornham. ‘There’s no future with a married woman, is there?’

  ‘So why would Sam do a disappearing act now?’ asked Millie.

  Dornham snorted. ‘If I had his domestic arrangements, I wouldn’t mind having a break from the father-in-law and the obligation to go to church every week.’

  ‘How does Sam get on with Gaby’s father?’ asked Millie.

  ‘All right, I think,’ said Dornham. ‘He’d drive me crazy, though. Daddy Boswell wants everything to be perfect for his perfect daughter, so he likes to be in control of everything. And I know he’s come the heavy with Sam – if ever you let my daughter down, that kind of thing. But if there’s one thing Sam is pretty resistant to, it’s being controlled. He’ll do what he can independently, despite the old man. And he’s banking on things being different once they’re married. Sam doesn’t like to feel obligated to anyone and he’s determined to provide for Gaby in his own way. According to him, Gaby feels the same and can’t wait to get out from under her old man’s grip.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘I want to, for Sam’s sake.’

  Jesson and Brown had dropped off the items for the Shahs and then returned to Granville Lane. Brown went on ahead of Jesson, and as she climbed the stairs, Vicky almost literally ran into Inspector Pete Stone.

  ‘How are you getting on with the Angel of the North?’ Stone sneered, looking up the stairwell as the door banged behind Brown. ‘Irritating little tosser, isn’t he?’

  ‘He’s thorough, if that’s what you’re getting at,’ said Vicky, feeling suddenly protective towards her newest colleague.

  ‘You know he still lives at home with his mum,’ Stone went on, spitefully. ‘And at thirty-odd that’s not good, is it? I saw the pair of them not long ago, going into the Bingo. Jesus.’ Stone shook his head. ‘I have a feeling he might like musical theatre too.’

  ‘Meaning what exactly?’ Vicky moved past him to get up the stairs.

  Stone ignored her. ‘Has he started telling you all how to do your jobs yet?’

  ‘No,’ Vicky called back over her shoulder. ‘But perhaps that’s because he doesn’t feel the need.’

  Stone just scowled after her.

  Mariner’s day had been a long one, that involved mostly sitting in a series of waiting areas, each distinguished by the colour of the chairs, before being transferred to the next, until eventually they saw whichever medical professional was next on the list. He felt like an aircraft being kept in a constant holding pattern. The tests themselves – physical exams, X-rays, the sampling of various bodily fluids – were each over relatively quickly, in inverse proportion to the time spent in limbo, and although Mariner felt guilty even thinking it, things were a whole lot easier given Jamie’s current docile demeanour. On a different occasion, with Jamie in a different humour, he might have wanted to take advantage of the multi-sensory room on offer for patients, but today there was no need. The afternoon’s finale was a full body scan, which proved the most problematic, no doubt because it was the procedure that was the least familiar to Jamie. He strongly resisted, both verbally and physically, and eventually the solution was to give him an additional mild sedative, which calmed him. Once he was co-operating, Mariner returned to the seating area and, as he did, he heard his name.

  ‘Tom?’ Dr Eleanor Kingsley had been involved in a previous case that had centred for a while on the hospital, during the course of which, she and Mariner had become friends. He went over.

  ‘What are you doing up here?’ she asked, knowing that his usual hang-out was the basement mortuary. ‘Not another serial killer on the loose?’

  ‘Not as far as I’m aware,’ said Mariner.

  ‘So this must be a personal visit,’ she surmised. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Mariner. ‘This is for Jamie,’ he added for clarification. ‘He’s been peeing blood, so they’re sticking tubes and needles into all kinds of places, to try and determine the problem.’

  She grimaced. ‘How’s that going?’

  ‘For Jamie, he’s doing remarkably well,’ said Mariner. ‘But that in itself is worrying. Not like him to put up with unsolicited physical contact from anyone, let alone invasive procedures from complete strangers.’

  ‘Well, I’d try not to worry too much. It could be lots of things,’ she said, to reassure him. ‘Most of them not necessarily life-threatening.’

  ‘I know, but thanks for saying it. And how are you?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘I’m good,’ she said. ‘Life has calmed down a bit for us now that all our lads have shipped out of Afghanistan, but s
till enough to keep us busy.’

  As she spoke, a nurse came into the waiting area. ‘Mr Barham?’ she called, scanning the room.

  Mariner realised then that he was mistakenly being addressed using Jamie’s surname. ‘Oh, that’s me,’ he said to Eleanor. ‘I’ve got to go. But it’s good to see you again.’

  ‘You too.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Let me know how it turns out.’

  ‘I will.’

  The sedation had taken its toll, and Jamie slept for most of the journey back to Manor Park, so that Mariner had to half carry him up to his room. His dinner had been kept back for him, so Mariner helped him to eat it before he fell asleep again. Afterwards he sought out Nell. ‘The results will be sent through to the doctor here,’ Mariner said, relaying what he had been told.

  ‘We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything,’ said Nell. ‘Try not to worry.’

  Easier said than done, thought Mariner, getting back into his car. It was rush hour by the time he headed home so he had to sit in traffic queues at all the major junctions, prolonging the journey considerably. By the time he got back, he felt knackered, even though he’d done nothing but sit around all day. Checking his mobile, he found nothing from Granville Lane, so no major developments there, but there were several messages on his voicemail from Gaby Boswell. She could keep until tomorrow, when, with luck, Millie might have some positive news.

  THIRTEEN

  Overnight he’d made the decision to bring Millie’s investigation into Sam Fleetwood’s disappearance out into the open. Although they were two quite separate inquiries, in his experience shared discussions could prove fruitful. He convened a joint briefing in a corner of the main office around Vicky’s desk, and started with Sam Fleetwood. ‘Gaby Boswell’s been trying to get in touch with me,’ he told Millie. ‘Any progress there?’

  ‘He still hasn’t shown up, if that’s what you mean,’ said Millie. ‘And honestly? I can’t make up my mind. Sam’s boss and his mentor at the church agree with Gaby and Fiona that Sam going so comprehensively off the radar is unusual and completely out of character. But according to his best mate, Nathan Dornham, Sam had some cloak-and-dagger relationship going with a married woman, a while back. It was enough of a deal that Nathan thinks Sam could be having one last fling with her again, before he gets married, which would explain what I found in his flat. Or it could be someone else. Dornham made it clear that Sam has form for this kind of thing. The weekends “working away” are not at all what Gaby thinks they are, and Sam did a disappearing act on his stag night a couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘This has gone way beyond a weekend now, though,’ said Mariner. ‘So where does that leave Gaby?’

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be any question about his commitment to her,’ said Millie. ‘And from what I understand, the whole point about this other woman is that she’s essentially unattainable. That’s the appeal.’

  ‘Things can change though, can’t they?’ said Vicky. ‘A married woman can always decide to leave her husband. Do you have any idea who this woman might be?’

  Millie shook her head. ‘All Nathan told me is that she’s likely to be older, sophisticated and married, and that it could have been going on a while.’

  ‘A work colleague?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Millie. ‘His boss made a point of saying that Sam keeps to himself there, and it seemed to be a pretty male-dominated environment. It goes back further than that too, to when he was at uni.’

  ‘It’s Sam’s mother that bothers me,’ said Mariner. ‘All this time he’s been a caring, thoughtful son and supported his sister, so whatever is going on in his private life, why duck those responsibilities now?’

  ‘Because it’s getting tougher?’ Vicky suggested. ‘We all know that people do walk away from their lives and their commitments. They do it all the time.’

  ‘And his mother’s got dementia,’ Mariner conceded. ‘So he may be of the opinion that she won’t even notice. According to Fiona he didn’t handle the father’s desertion very well. He could even blame his mother for the father walking out. And Fiona is clearly very capable and managing things. Perhaps Sam considers it’s a small price to pay. I agree. There are people who walk out on much more.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is, if this is about another woman, or even having second thoughts about marrying Gaby, why not just come clean and admit it?’ said Millie.

  ‘Maybe he didn’t plan it this way,’ said Jesson. ‘Maybe he really was meeting this woman for one last time before he gets married. Then, when it comes to it, they decide they can’t live without each other. Depending on who she is, the other woman might not want it broadcast. And if part of the thrill is the secrecy, then eloping would suit them. Never underestimate the power of illicit sex.’

  ‘And we’re absolutely certain that nobody has seen or heard from Fleetwood since last Saturday,’ Mariner checked.

  ‘The last contact we have with anyone, is still the text he sent to Gaby at eleven, to say that he was finishing up and about to leave the house on Meadow Hall,’ Millie confirmed. ‘The neighbour there thought he heard him leave after one a.m., and a neighbour at Sam’s flat said he might have heard someone moving about in his flat on the Sunday morning.’

  ‘That’s a lot of uncertainty,’ said Mariner. ‘So we can’t be sure where he went after he left the house?’

  ‘The Gatso on the Redditch Road picked up Fleetwood’s car heading out of the city going south on the A441 at one twenty-two on Sunday morning,’ Brown chipped in.

  Mariner turned to face him. ‘And you know this …?’

  Millie took a breath. ‘I asked him to look at the footage—’

  ‘In fairness, I offered to look at it,’ countered Brown.

  ‘No, I specifically—’

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Mariner. ‘I’m not really interested in how it happened. But what then?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Brown. ‘One minute he’s on the A441, and by the next camera, three miles on, he’s vanished.’

  ‘That would seem to add considerable weight to the possibility of another relationship going on,’ said Mariner. ‘If, as his mate suggests, there is another woman, Sam could have been going out to meet her – it might explain the timing and the holdall. Any likely candidates for this other woman at all?’

  ‘Unfortunately not,’ said Millie. ‘That’s where all the creeping around doesn’t help. The most I’ve got is the Valentine card from someone calling herself his “Little Bear”. The handwriting is definitely not Gaby’s.’

  ‘Little Bear? It’s an odd nickname,’ said Vicky.

  ‘Perhaps they met on Paddington station,’ suggested Brown.

  ‘I might go back and talk to Tanya McKinnon, his mentor’s wife,’ said Millie. ‘There was something about her reaction when she found out who I was. She’s an older, pretty woman and her husband is also away on a regular basis at the moment.’

  ‘Worth a pop then,’ said Mariner. ‘And sometime today we need to go and have a potentially rather awkward conversation with the Boswells about why we probably can’t do anything to help.’

  Mariner could sense Vicky getting restless, keen to share progress on the fire investigation. He thought he detected developing competition between her and Millie, which wouldn’t be a bad thing. He’d already looked over Vicky’s input to the policy book from yesterday. ‘So Docherty’s considering arson after all?’ he said.

  ‘Almost certainly,’ said Jesson. ‘Normally we’d start with the possibility of an inside job, but in this case I think we can discount it because of Soltan Ahmed’s death.’

  Mariner’s expression indicated less certainty, but Vicky pressed on. ‘Everything Salwa and the children have told us stacks up; Salwa tried to get her father out, sustaining nasty burns in the process. And what would be the motive?’

  ‘Have we got any further with the insurance policies?’ Mariner asked Brown.

  ‘Not yet, sir, still waiting for Musta
fa Shah to let me know the details. His copies were destroyed in the fire, and I think he’s waiting for the company to send him something through.’

  ‘Well, stay on it, will you?’ said Mariner. ‘Both Salwa and Mustafa made reference to how good their policy is, and seemed confident that it would cover the damage. It could be a scam that went wrong,’ he went on, ‘Salwa told us that her father was physically fit. She could reasonably have expected him to get out safely too.’

  ‘It would be a hell of a risk, though,’ Jesson argued, ‘and, as it turned out, not one worth taking. If that was the plan, why leave Soltan in that bedroom?’ she continued. ‘Once the children were asleep it would have been much safer for Salwa to have brought him into the children’s room. Then they could all get out together. All they would have to say is that Soltan woke first and raised the alarm, which would make perfect sense given where the fire seems to have started.’

  ‘So, if it’s not an inside job?’ said Mariner.

  Vicky looked at him. So he didn’t believe it either; he’d just been testing out her ideas. ‘We focus our attention on outside threats,’ she said. ‘That means the Wright family, and anyone else who may have had something against the Shahs.’

  Mariner called across to Brown. ‘Any other contenders crawled out of the woodwork yet?’ Brown looked up from his PC monitor, pushing up his glasses. ‘Jordan Wright is the favourite so far,’ he said. ‘Along with our mysterious man in the hoodie, supposing of course that they are different people.’

  ‘So start with him,’ said Mariner, signalling the end of the discussion.

  ‘You’ve been helping Millie out then,’ said Mariner to Brown, before he left to go back to his office. ‘Hope you’re keeping up with your own work too.’

  Brown blinked at him. ‘I had time, sir,’ he said.

  Millie was following up, as she’d said, by returning to the McKinnon family home. This time, it was Tanya who came to the door. ‘Ah, you’ll want to speak to Laurie,’ she said straight away. ‘I’m sorry but he’s not here—’

 

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