B&K02 - The Malcontenta

by Barry Maitland

  ‘Just bills.’ Brock had been opening his mail while he’d been waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘Why don’t you ring your place and see if there’ve been any messages? Will there be anyone there at this time?’

  Kathy looked at her watch. It was half past four. ‘Hard to say. I’ll try.’

  The number rang several times before Patrick, out of breath, answered. ‘Kathy, you’re back! How did it go?’

  ‘Magic. I brought the social committee something to cheer them up. Have there been any messages, do you know?’

  ‘Yes - three, I believe. A woman rang yesterday. I think the name’s on the pad here, hang on … yes, Penny Elliot.’

  ‘Oh yes. Did she say anything?’

  ‘Just to ring her when you got back. Your aunt also rang.’ ‘Aunt Mary?’

  ‘Yes, from Sheffield. Same message, to ring her when you got back.’

  Kathy sighed. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘This bloke called round at the weekend. A real hard man, a Geordie. Wouldn’t give his name.’

  A chill went down Kathy’s back. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Well, he wanted to know where you were. Jill answered the door, and when she said she didn’t know, he came out with this story that you were looking after something of his that he really needed right away. She said she couldn’t help and pretended we didn’t have your key, but he said you’d given him a key and told him to go on up and find the thing he wanted. He just pushed his way past Jill, but I arrived at that point and stopped him. He was pretty bloody arrogant, in point of fact. We weren’t sure what to do for the best. He went away eventually.’

  Kathy’s heart was pounding. What did she have in her room? ‘You did the right thing, Patrick. He isn’t a friend of mine, and I haven’t given him a key.’

  ‘Christ!’

  ‘Has he been back?’

  ‘Not as far as I know. But there’s been a car parked across the street for a couple of days now, with a bloke inside reading the paper. Not always the same man.’

  ‘Patrick, would you do something for me? Go to my room and put any notebooks and papers you can find into a carrier bag. I think there’s a couple of files and several spiral-bound notebooks, and maybe some loose - yes, there’s a wad of loose typewritten reports in one of the drawers of the desk. If you could put them all in a bag and hide it somewhere till I get back - under your bed or something.’

  ‘Jeez! All right, good as done.’

  Kathy put the receiver down and sat staring at the bench top.

  ‘Problems?’ Brock asked quietly.

  ‘Tanner’s been round to my place and tried to talk his way into my room.’

  ‘What’s he after?’

  Kathy shrugged. ‘All I can think of are my notes on the Petrou case. That’s about all he’d be interested in.’

  Brock grunted. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Penny Elliot rang.’

  ‘Sounds as if it would be a good idea to talk to her. We really need to know what’s been going on. You’d better not tell her where you are, though.’

  Kathy agreed and dialled the number of Division, asking to be put through to Detective Sergeant Elliot. ‘Penny, it’s Kathy. I’m not coming back to Crowbridge just yet, but I heard you’d been trying to reach me.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Are you all right? You got me worried disappearing like that. I thought you might have fallen under a bus.’

  ‘I just needed to get away for a few days. What’s been happening?’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’

  Kathy heard some murmuring and sounds of movement, then Penny came back, whispering so low and fast that Kathy had to press her ear to the receiver to pick out the words. ‘Tanner and his boys have been trying to find you! Didn’t you know? They had a go at me for a while, thought I should know where you were. They said they just wanted to talk to you. I’ve got the impression that the Rose Duggan case has bogged down. Have you been reading the papers?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, her boy-friend is still under arrest, but the lads on the second floor don’t seem very happy. I believe he hasn’t confessed yet. The wife of the Director of the clinic has been here a few times creating a scene, apparently. I don’t know the background, but I’m told she had the front desk in uproar the other day until the Deputy Chief Constable agreed to see her.’

  ‘Is there some suggestion she’s related to the boy-friend, do you know, Penny?’

  ‘No idea, sorry. What’s going on, anyway, Kathy? Shouldn’t you be back here?’

  Kathy hesitated. ‘I think they may have got it all wrong, Penny. But I don’t have anything concrete to offer. Do you think Tanner was looking for my help?’

  Now it was Penny who hesitated. ‘To be honest, Kathy, when he came at me I felt like the woman who runs the refuge in town, when the men come battering on the door looking for their runaway wives. He didn’t strike me as a man who wanted some friendly advice from a colleague. Why does he hate you so much?’

  ‘I don’t know, Penny, I really don’t.’ She sighed. ‘I just wish I could get a clearer idea about what’s going on.’

  ‘I’ll try to do what I can and ask around. But the risk is it’ll get back to him straight away.’

  ‘What about files? Can you get access to them in the normal course of things?’

  ‘You’re joking! Past Medusa?’

  Kathy remembered the formidable woman clerk who guarded the CID file room. ‘Oh yes, of course.’

  ‘Probably the best way is through the clerical staff. Keep well clear of the investigating officers.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Kathy sounded doubtful. ‘I don’t want to get anyone else into trouble over this, Penny. Especially you. Have you heard any more about Gordon Dowling?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘How about Belle Mansfield?’

  ‘She cleared her desk a week ago. I’ve got her home number if you want it.’

  ‘Yes, OK.’ Kathy wrote down the number Penny dictated, thanked her and rang off.

  ‘Apparently my aunt in Sheffield has been trying to get hold of me, Brock. I’d better ring and make sure she’s all right.’

  She dialled and heard her aunt’s voice answer tentatively, ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me, Aunt Mary - Kathy. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, Kathy! Have you been away, dear?’

  ‘Yes, for a few days. I got your message. Are you all right?’

  ‘Oh, I’m fine. Your Uncle Tom’s had a bad cough this past week, though.’

  Uncle Tom’s cough and its remedies took a few minutes, then, ‘No, I just wanted to make sure your friend had been able to get in touch with you.’

  ‘Friend?’

  ‘Yes. He phoned here yesterday. Was it yesterday? No, I tell a lie. It must have been Monday, because Effie was here at the time. A nice man, he sounded like.’ Aunt Mary’s judgement was cautious, which Kathy knew meant she really wasn’t too sure. ‘He sounded ever so keen to see you again. Is he an admirer, dear? He seemed to think you were staying with us for a holiday. I don’t know how he could have got that idea, it’s been such a long time since we saw you. The way he was talking, I think he’d have got in his car and come straight down to Sheffield there and then if I’d given him any hope of seeing you.’

  ‘Down?’ Kathy repeated. ‘You said he’d have come down to Sheffield?’

  ‘Aye, well, he was a Geordie, wasn’t he? From Newcastle, I’d say. Don’t you know him, then, dear?’

  Kathy brought the call to an end as soon she could and told Brock this new discovery.

  ‘Persistent, isn’t he,’ Brock said. ‘I wonder if he’s been here too.’

  Kathy dialled Belle Mansfield’s home number next. She sounded philosophical about what had happened.

  ‘I was ready for a change anyway, Kathy. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Belle, I don’t know what to say. I feel terrible, getting you involved.’

  ‘I knew that what we were doing was out of line, Kathy. I
guess I just didn’t expect the boys to be quite so smart.’

  ‘How did they get on to you?’

  ‘You remember I told you the clinic’s computer might record the numbers of incoming connections? Well, it did -Tanner was able to trace a call from our hotel that night I tried to break into the computer. And while we were at the hotel we used a credit card. I guess that was stupid, but it’s all very well being Mr and Mrs Smith until you want to pay for something. We never carry much cash around.’

  ‘All the same, it was pretty clever of Tanner to put all that together.’

  ‘Yeah. And so quickly. He’s a tough customer, Kathy. You should be careful where he’s concerned.’

  ‘I know that, Belle. Was he rough on you?’

  ‘Oh, not really. He just came straight to the point once he’d worked out what I’d done. I had a choice, he said. I could stay and fight, face disciplinary action, then the sack and probably prison, and my husband would probably lose his job at IBM too, given how sensitive they would be to this kind of crime in the family. Alternatively, I could sign a statement and resign gracefully, without retribution. I’m sorry, Kathy, I had to sign.’

  ‘Of course you did.’ Kathy felt her throat constrict as if a noose were being tightened around it. ‘What did it say?’

  ‘Oh, just about everything. What I did, whose idea it was, your friend’s offer to pay for the room. Everything.’

  Neither of them spoke for a moment. Kathy’s hand was aching from gripping the receiver so tightly.

  ‘I’m sorry, Kathy,’ Belle repeated at last.

  Kathy took a deep breath. ‘There was nothing else you could do, Belle. I had to sign something similar. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Yeah, well, good luck.’

  ‘What I really need is information. I feel as if I’m blind.’ ‘What kind of information?’

  ‘About Rose Duggan’s murder. What evidence they have against the man they’ve arrested, what statements other people have made, things like that. I’d hoped that Penny Elliot could have found out something for me, but they’re keeping everything on the second floor locked up very tight. She doesn’t know much more than is in the newspapers.’

  ‘Has she tried her computer?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The CID computers on the second floor are networked. Some of the ones on the third floor are in the same network. Hers will be. She could look at their case files.’

  Kathy bit her lip, hesitating. ‘What will be there? Would there be investigating officers’ reports? Forensic reports?’

  ‘I doubt it. Those things are still going on to paper and into the manual files in the CID file room. But some useful stuff goes on to the computer files. Transcripts of taped interviews, for example.’

  ‘Of course!’ Kathy remembered the print-outs.

  ‘I have to go, Kathy. I hope it works out.’ Belle couldn’t hide the doubt in her voice.

  ‘Something?’ Brock asked.

  ‘Maybe.’ Kathy explained about the computer files, then described the way in which Tanner had traced Belle’s involvement. ‘Rose died on the Monday, and by the Wednesday, when he pulled me in, he knew all about Belle. I can hardly believe it! He couldn’t even have known that we’d tried to break into the clinic computer, and yet within - what? -thirty-six hours, he had it all worked out and had traced telephone numbers and credit cards.’ Kathy shook her head. ‘It’s scary, Brock.’

  The phone began ringing as she said it.

  It was Patrick. ‘Didn’t have much luck, Kathy. I couldn’t find any of those things in your room. Er …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, your room’s pretty untidy. I just wasn’t sure if it’s always like that.’

  ‘Like what, Patrick?’

  ‘Well, the drawer on the floor, you know? And the stuff all over the bed.’

  ‘Oh …’ Kathy bowed her head and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Don’t worry, Patrick. It doesn’t matter. Just lock the place up again and leave it. Is the car still outside?’

  ‘Hang on.’ The phone banged on the table and she heard his footsteps echo down the hall, then return. ‘Yep, still there.’

  ‘Well, just ignore them. Thanks for your help, Patrick. I’ll see you sometime soon.’

  She turned to Brock. ‘The bastard. He got in anyway.’

  Brock shook his head. ‘Kathy …’ he began slowly, ‘who else knew about us meeting at the Hart Revived that day when we talked about getting Belle involved?’

  ‘No one. The only way anyone would have known is if the phone you used at the clinic was bugged. Isn’t that the only possibility?’

  ‘Mmm. It seems a bit elaborate to monitor the patients’ phone calls, but-’

  ‘Oh shit.’ Kathy suddenly froze on the stool where she was sitting beside the phone. She was pale. ‘Gordon Dowling. I saw him the next day. I’d forgotten all about it. I was in a terrible rush when I bumped into him. He looked so bloody sad and I gave him something to cheer him up. I told him about our meeting in the pub and how we planned to get into the computer at the clinic’

  She closed her eyes and groaned. ‘Oh Brock, how could I be so dumb. Gordon Dowling - poor, dozy, gay Gordon Dowling.’

  They sat in silence for a moment. Then Brock said, ‘Maybe there was another way Tanner could have found out.’

  But Kathy shook her head, her shoulders sagging. ‘No. That’s it for sure. That’s just about the end, isn’t it? Gordon betrayed us.’

  Brock said nothing but got to his feet and went over to a cupboard under one end of the long work-top. From inside he fished out a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label and a couple of glasses.

  ‘I suppose,’ Brock thought aloud as he poured the drinks, ‘it would be interesting to know when he betrayed us.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Did he talk to Tanner only after Rose was murdered, or did Tanner already know I was at the clinic? Had Gordon already told him about his visit here, with you, to this house?’

  ‘Oh yes. And before that, Rose’s letter to me.’ Kathy groaned, and then suddenly stiffened. ‘And if he knew then, why not last October when he put me on the Petrou case with Gordon in the first place? There was something about that -the way Tanner always seemed to know what I was doing, even though he didn’t seem much interested in my reports.’ She screwed up her forehead in thought, sipping absent-mindedly from the glass.

  ‘So you think Dowling could have been reporting back to Tanner all the time?’ Brock frowned. ‘Pretty devious. I didn’t really imagine him leading a double life.’

  ‘Perhaps he had no choice. The greengrocer, Jerry, spotted him as gay right away, but I don’t think any of his mates in the force know it. Jerry was fearful of what kind of treatment he would get if they did find out. Maybe Gordon wasn’t ready to face that. Maybe Tanner found out and used it. I imagine that’s the kind of working relationship that Tanner likes to have with subordinates.’

  Brock shook his head. ‘Poor Gordon.’

  ‘I’ll break his bloody neck!’ Kathy drained the glass and slammed it down on the work-top.

  ‘Well, how do we get even?’

  ‘Penny Elliot for a start.’ She dialled the number and explained what Belle had told her.

  ‘The CID computer files? I never use them. Hang on, I’ll try.’

  Kathy waited for three or four long minutes before Penny came back. ‘Yes, there is something. The files have got number codes. There’s quite a lot of them. I don’t suppose you know the case number of the Duggan murder?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘Well, I could just go through them until I find it. Or perhaps I could sort them by date. When do you want this?’

  ‘Oh, Penny, you know …’

  ‘Tonight, you mean. Well, I suppose I could stay on a bit. Do you want a print-out or a disk?’

  ‘Either would be great.’

  ‘I’ll ring you back in an hour and tell you how it’s going.’

>   She did exactly that. ‘It’ll take another half an hour, then I’ll be going home. Do you want to pick it up there? I live in Tunbridge Wells. I’ll tell you how to find the house.’

  Kathy took down the instructions, then turned to Brock. ‘I’d better get moving. What’s the quickest way to the A21 from here?’

  ‘I should come with you. Tanner’s got me feeling nervous for you now. Maybe he’s got something on your friend Penny, too.’

  Kathy smiled, suddenly weary. Was it only this morning they’d had breakfast in Vicenza? ‘I shouldn’t think so, Brock. I’ll be fine. But maybe I could come back here to sleep tonight? At least it’s out of his territory. I just wish I could go home to my flat in Finchley.’

  ‘I wonder if your fellow tenant has had a visit from Tanner too.’

  ‘Yes, very likely.’

  It was almost midnight before she returned. Brock was waiting up for her, although he had given her a key. The study smelled of toast, and Brock indicated a plate of bread and cheese and pickles. ‘Hungry?’ He took the toasting fork from its hook beside the gas fire and set to work.

  Kathy collapsed into the chair, clutching a fat envelope. Brock eyed it. ‘Looks as if she came up trumps.’

  She nodded. ‘I haven’t had a chance to go through it yet, but it looks promising.’

  ‘We’ll get to work in the morning. You look all in.’

  ‘Yes,’ she sighed, ‘but it isn’t just that. That day you rang me from Rome, Penny gave me addresses for Gordon Dow-ling’s next of kin. I remembered when I was talking to her that I’d written them down in my diary. So when I left her this evening I thought I might look them up. His mother lives not too far from Crowbridge, and I wondered if he might be there. He was.

  ‘She didn’t want me to see him at first. She’s a formidable woman. Small, but tough as old boots and very protective. She said he was ill, and when he eventually appeared at the front door he certainly looked it. They let me in and I had a chat with him alone for a while.’