“Yes, I’ve got some info I think you might be interested in. I see a lot that goes on and, well, I think I should fill you in on what I know.”
Paolo sat down and pulled a pad towards him.
“Fire away, I’m ready.”
“Oh, I thought maybe I could come in to see you. I’d rather tell you in person, if that’s okay with you.”
“Tonight?” Paolo said, thinking he was already cutting it fine to get home, shower and get a meal ready before Jessica arrived. “I was about to leave, but if it’s urgent you see me, I can stay on for a bit longer.”
“Nah, it’s not urgent. Important yes, but not so urgent it can’t wait until tomorrow. You’ll be amazed at what I’ve got to tell you. Sometimes the ones who look the most innocent do things you just wouldn’t believe. Listen, I can call by the station on my way to work. What time do you get in?”
“I’m generally here by half eight,” Paolo said, “but I can get in earlier if you need me to.”
“Nah, you’re all right. Half eight works for me. I’m telling you, you’re gonna be shocked by what I know.”
“So you keep saying.” Irritated by the constant references without any real detail, Paolo’s voice was sharper than he intended. “Look, sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Are you sure you don’t want to come over now?”
“No, I’ve got things that need doing tonight.”
“And you can’t tell me over the phone?”
Derrick laughed. “I wanna see your face when I tell you. You are gonna be so shocked.”
“Fine,” Paolo said. “Tomorrow at half eight.”
He put down the phone and gave himself a mental shake. He’d cocked up his interview with George Baron and now come close to losing his temper with someone who just wanted to give him information. And was irritating with it, a little voice whispered. Paolo ignored the whisper. He needed to get his private life sorted once and for all to stop it intruding where it didn’t belong.
Paolo put the finishing touches to the table and stood back to admire his efforts. He’d come a long way since his split with Lydia. Not only did he now cook for himself on a regular basis, but was confident enough in his skills to feed other people too. As long as he kept it simple that was. Smoked salmon and brown bread to start, with fillet steak and sauté potatoes as the main course. His limitations when it came to dessert were pancakes, pancakes or pancakes, so he’d bought in one of those fancy ice cream cakes to finish the meal.
Jessica arrived right on time and Paolo thought she’d never looked lovelier.
“Wow, you’ve really pulled out all the stops tonight. Candles as well!”
Paolo took her jacket and took it out to hang in the hall. By the time he came back into the kitchen, Jessica was seated at the table looking quizzically at him. She’d poured herself a glass of wine and raised it to him in salute.
“So, come on, Paolo, out with it. Is this in celebration of our exciting future, or a last supper to say goodbye?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Paolo woke the next morning with a hangover to beat all hangovers. He didn’t usually drink, but had polished off half a bottle of red wine the night before, followed by several brandies. God, how did regular drinkers cope? His mouth tasted too foul to even think of comparing it to anything rational. Maybe a sewer, but thankfully he had no experience of drinking sewer water, so couldn’t be certain. Someone had moved a madman with a drum kit into his head.
As he went to sit up, his stomach heaved and threatened to empty its contents over the duvet. Paolo tried to make a dash for the bathroom, but had to settle for an unstable stagger. Thankfully, he reached the bathroom in time to throw up into the toilet bowl, instead of over the floor.
Why, oh, why had he been so stupid last night? But he knew the answer to that, so it was pointless dwelling on it. He forced himself upright and peered at his reflection in the mirror. The person staring back looked closer to a dead man than someone with a pulse. Right now, Paolo wasn’t sure death wouldn’t be preferable.
As he reached the bedroom door, his alarm clock decided to add its mite to what was the worst morning he’d faced in many years. Another stagger in the direction of the bed enabled him to smack the clock with enough force to shut it up. Hot shower and coffee, that’s what he needed.
Half an hour later, he still felt like death, but no longer looked as if it was a distinct possibility in the near future. He dressed with care to avoid moving his head too much as his brain felt like it was sloshing around in a pool of liquid. Glancing at his watch, he remembered his early morning appointment with Derrick Walden. No way was he fit to drive. In fact, he wasn’t at all certain he wasn’t still drunk. Maybe not, but the alcohol would still be in his system.
Taking a deep breath, he hit Dave’s number on speed dial and then held the phone away from his ear. The ringing tone pealed like thunder.
“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” Dave’s voice sounded too loud and too bloody cheerful to Paolo’s sensitive ears.
“I need a lift into work today. I, er, I had a drop too much to drink last night and I don’t think I should drive.”
“You got drunk?”
“Yes, but there’s no need to shout. Can you pick me up or not?”
Dave’s laughter fired bullets into a brain already under siege. “Lucky for you my future mother-in-law has decided she doesn’t need my participation after all this morning. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’ll bring a guaranteed hangover cure. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.”
Paolo doubted that, but when Dave arrived with a box of capsules, he followed his advice and swallowed one of them.
“How long will it take to work?” Paolo asked. “I’ve got a meeting with Derrick Walden at half eight. The way I feel now, I just want to fall down and die."
Dave grinned and Paolo felt like strangling him. “By the time we get there, you’ll already start to feel better. You know when I was being an idiot and drinking too much last year?” Paolo nodded. “One of my mates put me on to these things. It was the only way I could function for months.”
Paolo reached for his jacket. “I hope you’re right. Let’s get going. Maybe I can rest my eyes for a few minutes before he arrives.”
During the drive, Paolo had to concentrate hard on controlling his wayward stomach, but Dave was right. By the time they reached the station he felt, if not cured, at least able to face the day ahead. He looked at his watch, still half an hour before Derrick Walden was due to arrive. He could try to make a start on the reports while he was waiting.
He climbed out of the car and almost managed a smile.
“You were right, Dave. Those things are a bloody miracle. If I ever take up drinking seriously, I’ll carry them around with me wherever I go.”
As they walked together into the station, Paolo’s phone rang. He took it out to answer it, but the duty sergeant’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t bother, sir, it’s me calling you. I hadn’t realised you were on your way in. We’ve had a call from the youth centre and you’re needed there straightaway. Dead body in the swimming pool.”
“Not an accident, I take it?”
“Don’t think so, sir, the man was found by the cleaners at the bottom of the pool fully dressed. Apparently, he’s the swimming instructor, so it’s not likely he’d drown by accident.”
Paolo rocked on his heels. “Bloody hell, I should have made him come in last night,” he muttered.
“What was that, sir?” Dave asked.
“I’ll explain later,” Paolo said. He turned back to the sergeant. “Have you alerted forensics?”
“Yes, sir, and the pathology department. Dr Royston is already on her way.”
“Right, come on, Dave. Let’s get going. I’ve got a horrible feeling someone didn’t want Derrick Walden talking to me this morning.”
When they reached the youth centre a crime scene tape was already in place, with constables keeping back not just the onlookers, but al
so those who wanted to get inside on legitimate business. One of them was April Greychurch, who called out to Paolo as he passed.
“What’s going on, Paolo? Why aren’t we allowed inside? He won’t tell me anything,” she said, pointing to a young policeman a few yards away.
“I’m afraid I can’t either until I’ve been in to find out for myself. Sorry about this, April. We’ll let you back in as soon as we can.”
He and Dave continued into the centre and made their way to the swimming pool. Barbara Royston was already there examining the body that had been retrieved from the bottom of the pool. Even from a distance, Paolo could see Derrick’s features were bloated and swollen; he was almost beyond identification.
Paolo stopped by the young constable guarding the door. “Who found the body?”
The constable pointed across to the other side of the pool to where an older woman dressed in cleaner’s overalls was being comforted by a policewoman.
“Apparently her normal routine is to start in here, washing the pool surround and then moving into the changing rooms. She says she didn’t notice the body until she’d worked her way along two thirds of the surround on this side of the pool. When she spotted him, she ran out screaming for help because she can’t swim and thought maybe someone could still save him.”
Paolo nodded his thanks.
“Dave, you go over and see if she has anything more to add. I’m going to talk to Barbara Royston.”
He walked over to where Barbara was kneeling next to the body and dropped to his haunches. Although his hangover had all but gone, the queasiness in his stomach wasn’t helped by the sight of Derrick’s waterlogged body.
“Morning, Barbara,” he said, trying to concentrate on keeping his coffee from making a reappearance.
She glanced up. “Morning, Paolo. You don’t look at all well this morning. You okay?”
Paolo nodded. “Think I might be coming down with something, but I’m fine. He’s been in there for a few hours by the look of him.”
“Yes, he went into the water sometime last night. He was clutching that,” she said, pointing to a designer drinks container currently resting inside an evidence bag. “I don’t know if forensics will get anything from it after being in the water all night.”
“Are we looking at murder?”
“Possibly. Preliminary findings indicate there was no struggle and I wouldn’t have thought he’d be an easy man to overcome unless drugged. There is an outside chance this was a successful suicide attempt.”
“Really?”
“Very much an outside chance. I would have thought drowning would be the last choice for such a competent swimmer, but who can guess what goes through people’s minds when they are depressed enough to take their own lives? Maybe he drugged himself and then jumped in knowing he wouldn’t be able to swim. Anyway, I’ll know more after the PM.”
Paolo sighed. “It’s possible, I suppose, but the timing of it has me leaning towards murder. He was supposed to come to talk to me this morning. He rang me last night just before I left. Said he had information I’d find interesting. It looks like someone didn’t want him to have the chance to pass on whatever it was he knew. I need to find out who was here last night. I know the pool shuts down for the evening, but there are lots of other activities taking place. Let’s hope someone saw something useful for a change.”
Barbara turned back to the body, signalling loud and clear they’d reached the end of their conversation. Paolo missed the easy relationship they used to share, but it didn’t look as if it was coming back any time soon.
He stood up; the chlorine in the atmosphere had brought back his thumping headache. Forcing himself to concentrate, he went to join Dave who was waiting for him at the end of the pool.
“Find out anything useful?” Paolo asked.
“Only that the place wasn’t locked up when she arrived. She’s the senior member of the cleaning staff and has a set of keys for all the doors. She normally has to unlock the pool to get in to clean, but the door was already unlocked. Shut, but not locked up. Other than that, she had nothing to say that we didn’t already know.”
“Come on; let’s find out who was here last night. I think it’s time to bring April inside. She seems to know more about what goes on here than anyone else.”
Settled in April’s office with a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, Paolo finally began to feel he might be able to cope with the day.
“I can’t believe Derrick is dead,” April said. “I just can’t believe it. He was in my office only yesterday, poking around as usual, trying to pick up bits of information.”
Paolo took a sip of coffee, then put the mug down on a coaster on April’s desk.
“What sort of information?”
She put her hands in the air. “Who knew with Derrick? He was just one of those people who needed to know everything that was going on. Some people are like that. Digging into stuff that doesn’t concern them because they can’t bear to think they’re being kept in the dark.”
“What time was that?”
“Mid-afternoon. About three, maybe four. I shooed him out and told him to keep his nose out of what didn’t concern him. He laughed at me, said everything concerned him because you never knew when you picked up information you could use.” She sighed. “That was the last time I saw him.”
“What time did you leave here last night?”
She put her head on one side, considering the question. “I’m not really sure,” she said. “It was quite late, maybe around nine, nine thirty.”
“What kept you here until that time?”
She smiled. “Money. I was giving a private martial arts lesson.”
“I’ll need to know the name of your client,” Paolo said. “And anyone else you saw in this part of the centre.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “The client’s a new one. Trudy Chappell. She’d called earlier in the day, begging me to fit her in. She said she needed to learn to defend herself. When I asked why, she said it was because she lived in a dangerous area and was scared of being mugged. I’m not sure I believed her, but it’s not for me to judge. She must have had a reason, or she wouldn’t have come. Anyway, she did well for a first lesson.”
Dave looked up from his notes. “Trudy Chappell? Isn’t she George Baron’s secretary?”
April nodded. “Yes, she mentioned she worked at the Triple B. In point of fact, as I left, I saw George Baron and another man in a car parked along the road from the centre. I assumed they were waiting to give Trudy a lift home. I thought that was nice, especially if she really did live in a rough area.”
“She didn’t leave with you?” Paolo asked.
“No, she was still drying her hair when I’d finished my shower and was ready to go. I left her in the changing room.”
“Okay,” Paolo said, “who else?”
“Well, there were loads of people in the other side of the centre. The canteen was open, as was the games room and the snooker room. I’ve no idea who was in there. You’d have to go and speak to the various people looking after the activities.”
“Yes, I realise that. Let’s just concentrate on who you saw on this side.”
“Arbnor was doing his rounds. Checking the activity rooms were empty before locking them up for the night. Oh, and Clementine Towers was also in doing her usual. Now that Montague has gone she seems to think I’m the right person to buttonhole for complaints.” She rolled her eyes. “This time it was the film we’d put on at the weekend for the younger age group. Subversive, violent and encouraging girls to act in a way that isn’t conducive to feminine behaviour. Corrupting the morals of children too young to understand they were being brainwashed into accepting fantasy as part of their lives.”
Paolo heard Dave smother a laugh. He felt like doing the same himself.
“That sounds like a quote,” he said. “What was the title of this dreadful film?”
“Brave. I ask you, how can anyone find that subvers
ive? More to the point, and I asked her this, how can she know what the film is about if she hasn’t watched it? Do you know what she said? She’d seen the poster and that was enough!”
April shook her head as if trying to rid her mind of the memory.
“I don’t recall seeing anyone else.” She looked across at Paolo, a question in her eyes. “Why do you need to know who was here? It was suicide, surely?”
Paolo shrugged. “Possibly, but we’re keeping an open mind until after the post mortem. Can you think of any reason why Derrick would kill himself?”
“He told me once he’d got into some trouble in London and that’s why he came here. He wanted a fresh start. Maybe his past caught up with him and he decide to take the easy way out. After what happened with Montague, I no longer know what to think about anyone.”
“I can understand how you feel. If you remember anything from last night, anything at all, give me a call. What time does Arbnor come in?”
She looked at her watch. “He should be here by now. That’s if he’s been allowed through the front door.”
“If he’s still being kept outside, I’ll go and vouch for him. Take care, April. The centre seems to be attracting a lot of bad vibes at the moment.”
She smiled, but it was a poor effort. “I’m always careful.”
Paolo and Dave went downstairs to the caretaker’s room, but there was no sign of him.
“You wait here, Dave. I’m going to have a look outside, see if he’s being held back.”
Paolo looked out through the front doors and spotted Arbnor deep in conversation with one of the women Paolo recognised from the canteen. She was one of the cooks who’d been involved in the food preparation for the opening night’s ceremony. What a lifetime ago that seemed.
He attracted the attention of a constable and asked him to let Arbnor through the cordon. As the caretaker ducked under the tape, Paolo could hear the cook’s voice raised in complaint. As soon as everyone had finished their work around the pool and the body had been moved, Paolo would give the order to lift the tape, but until then only those he needed to speak to would be allowed in.
Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 14