Deadly Motive

by DS Butler

  Sean folded his arms. “I meant I didn’t know them well. I didn’t say I had never met them.”

  “Have you ever met any of the others?”

  “I met the girl, Ruby Wei, just once.”

  “When was this?”

  “Tuesday, lunchtime, I wanted to get more information on their project.”

  DI Tyler began shuffling the papers and putting them back into the file.

  Sean lifted his head. “Can I go now then?”

  “No.”

  26

  DC Collins walked over to the vending machine for what must have been his tenth coffee of the day. He was still waiting for his chance to interview Weston.

  He had been told Weston had woken briefly yesterday and the doctor was hopeful he would pull through. But today Weston had been out of it again; he hadn’t stirred once.

  The junior sister on duty had promised she would let him know as soon as Weston woke.

  He fed the vending machine slot a fifty-pence piece and selected number twenty-one, a black coffee with sugar. He suspected this coffee had as much caffeine in it as dirty dishwater, which is just what it looked like.

  Weston didn’t even have any visiting relatives or friends that Collins could question while he waited. There was nothing to do but wait for Weston to wake up and ask him who he had pissed off enough for them to want to kill him.

  Collins stifled a yawn and walked back down the corridor to resume his sentry position.

  He sat outside Weston’s room, on a bench set back against the wall, and rested his elbows on his knees, holding the coffee in both hands. He looked up as a nurse walked along the corridor towards him. She met his gaze, shook her head and walked on past.

  It was sad really. The man was stuck in hospital attached to all those machines and no one seemed to care.

  His ex-wife’s was the only name they got out of Weston, and they’d leapt on that – she might have known something. It had been gutting to find out she was in New Zealand. Still, she did answer their questions over the phone.

  With no leads from his family, some of the team had moved on to talking to Weston’s work colleagues and neighbours. They needed to build up a picture of Weston and find out what kind of man he was; maybe then they could try to understand why someone would want to kill him.

  So, while other members of the team dug around in Weston’s personal life, Collins sat in a hospital corridor, waiting to ask a man why someone wanted him dead.

  27

  After Detective Superintendent Wright had spent a considerable amount of time on the phone to his counterpart at Thames Valley, the two forces finally came to an understanding, and DCI Brookbank had requested that Ruby Wei be the first scientist questioned. They’d already questioned her in Oxford, and she agreed to come to the City to answer more questions to help with the enquiry.

  Mackinnon and Charlotte entered the observation area to interview room three while the interview with Ruby Wei was already underway. DCI Brookbank, who was also there to observe, didn’t look up as they joined him at the window.

  Ruby Wei, a small Chinese woman, was a bundle of energy. She tapped her foot in agitation and continually gestured with her hands as she spoke.

  Ruby looked at DC Webb and DI Tyler, who sat opposite her. “Can you please tell me what this is all about? I have been talking to you for the last twenty minutes, and you haven’t said one thing that makes any sense,” Ruby said.

  Webb’s cheeks flushed; he tightened the grip on his pen and tapped it on the table, “As I have already explained, Miss Wei, you are here to help with our enquiries. I can’t give you anymore details at this stage.”

  Ruby flung up her hands. “See what I mean? How can I answer your questions if I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “Feisty one, isn’t she? Poor Webb, I almost feel sorry for him.” Mackinnon said under his breath to Charlotte.

  DCI Brookbank caught it and glared at Mackinnon. Hostility rolled off him.

  Charlotte frowned. What had Mackinnon done?

  He’d fallen on his feet when he started here. The superintendent had taken him under his wing, destined for a great career. Jack Mackinnon was so perfect, it was sickening. The rest of them should have hated him for it, but they didn’t. He was the man everyone liked. But DCI Brookbank clearly had an issue with him.

  Charlotte turned her attention back to the interview and watched DC Webb squirm in his seat as he pushed some notes over to DI Tyler.

  DI Tyler studied the notes and then pushed them aside. “Ruby, perhaps we could start with you giving us a short description of the work you do in the lab?”

  Ruby leaned forward in her seat. “Or perhaps we could start with you telling me what this is all about and why you are interested in the work I have been doing?”

  Charlotte considered her reaction. Why was she being defensive? Did she have something to hide? Or was she just frustrated that they were keeping her in the dark? They had learned that Ruby Wei was a Chinese citizen, in the UK on a student visa, and she had been here since she was sixteen.

  It was probably politically incorrect to even think it, but Charlotte had been expecting a quiet, soft-spoken, young Chinese woman. But Ruby’s English accent was pure Home Counties, although Charlotte could hear the influence of her native tongue when she grew more agitated as the interview progressed.

  “I’d like to be upfront with you, Ruby,” DI Tyler said. “The fact is a chemical used at your place of work may be linked to a poisoning incident.”

  Ruby clasped her hands together and put them under the table. “What chemical?”

  DI Tyler didn’t answer her question; he wasn’t about to allow the interviewee the chance to take over the direction of the interview. The interview questions had been carefully planned in advance.

  “Ruby, it’s in your best interest to cooperate with us, otherwise it will look like you have something to hide.”

  Ruby considered that for a moment, her gaze flickering from DC Webb back to DI Tyler.

  “My research focuses on cancer vaccines. I don’t see how it could be linked to a poisoning.” Ruby looked up at DI Tyler.

  Tyler stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

  “I use antibodies to target cancerous cells.”

  “Have you ever used the compound aconite in your research?” Tyler asked, his dark eyes sharp.

  The shock on Ruby’s face was obvious. She covered her face with her hands and was silent for some moments. When she looked up again, she had collected her thoughts and her expression was guarded. Charlotte guessed her responses would not be helpful.

  DI Tyler moved in, leaning towards Ruby, eyes narrowed, his body language predatory. “Have you ever met John Weston?”

  Ruby leaned back away from him and bit down on the fleshy part of her lower lip. “Am I a suspect?”

  “At this stage, Miss Wei, we are just gathering information. You are not under arrest, just helping us with our enquiries.”

  “Even so, I think I should have a lawyer.”

  28

  Ted found 39, Church Street without any trouble. It was derelict. The abandoned house had boarded windows and a front door that looked like it might collapse with a strong gust of wind.

  He stood in the small, paved front garden and glanced around.

  An elderly man, dragging his recycling bin, gave Ted a sharp, suspicious look. This was a very different location to the Methodist Church Hall on Blackwell Street, which was where they usually held their meetings.

  Ted looked up as the front door opened and Jayne stepped out. Her narrow eyes were like slits in her face.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked with her hands on her hips.

  Ted said nothing but walked towards her, up the front steps and through the door. Inside, it was dark and smelt of damp and neglect. Jayne picked up two candles and lit them with an orange plastic lighter. With her free hand, she pulled him further into the hallway so she could close the door behind him. It
was very dark, even with the candles.

  Jayne smiled at him. “I knew you would come.”

  No one had told Ted the meeting would take place in a squat with no electricity. It explained why the man with the recycling bin had glared at him.

  Paul came through a doorway on the left and joined them in the hall.

  “Ted, brilliant. So glad you could come,” he said, his face breaking into a wide smile. He slapped Ted on the back. “Come in here. There is someone here I’d like you to meet.”

  Ted followed Paul through the doorway into what must once have been the sitting room. There was no furniture left now. Jayne came into the room behind them and the candles she held provided a faint glow of light.

  Ted’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. The smell was dank and fetid, and it was worse in here. It smelled like something had died, maybe a bird or rat rotting in the chimney breast. Why on earth were they having the meeting here? He could have arranged for them to meet in one of the university’s seminar rooms for free. He decided to mention it to Paul before their next meeting.

  As Ted’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was able to see further into the room. Hardly anyone else had turned up. He couldn’t blame them.

  “Is nobody else coming tonight?” Ted asked.

  Ted caught the glance between Paul and Jayne before Paul answered.

  “It’s just us tonight. It is going to be quite a special meeting.” Paul looked towards the other person in the room, a short man in his late twenties or early thirties, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at them, waiting.

  Paul gestured to the man on the ground.

  “This…” Paul said, before pausing for effect, “…is Wolf.”

  The man remained sitting on the floor. He didn’t look much like a wolf. More like a chipmunk with those puffy cheeks.

  “All right?” said Ted, nodding at the man on the ground.

  Wolf nodded.

  Paul, all dimples and teeth, was acting like he was in the presence of a rock star.

  “Sit down, Ted,” Paul said as he settled himself on the ground to the right of Wolf. Jayne sat down on Wolf’s left.

  Ted looked down at the floor. It was littered with discarded food wrappers and looked like it hadn’t been swept or vacuumed in years. Suppressing a shudder, he sat down and waited.

  Paul cleared his throat. “Wolf is an animal rights investigator.”

  All three of them looked at Ted, waiting for his reaction.

  “Nice,” Ted said.

  “I can’t tell you my real name,” Wolf said.

  Ted laughed. “I didn’t ask you to, mate.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  Ted rolled his eyes. “Look, no offence, but this is not for me. Meeting in a squat? For Christ’s sake.” Ted got to his feet and wiped down his jeans. “Call me when you have a proper meeting, all right?”

  Ted turned and made for the door, hoping he could locate the handle in the dim light. He heard the other three muttering behind him. He reached the front door and opened it, smelling the sweet fresh air before Paul was at his side.

  “Ted, you can’t go yet,” Paul said.

  “I’m not really the squat type, Paul. Sorry,” Ted said, stepping out onto the front steps.

  “I know it’s not ideal, but this is where Wolf is staying at the moment and we need to keep things quiet, for his sake.”

  Ted laughed and shook his head. “What is with all this undercover stuff? Wanted by the police, is he?”

  Paul sighed, pulled the front door so that it was only open a fraction, sat down on the top step and waited until Ted joined him.

  “Wolf does work undercover, Ted.”

  Ted laughed again, and for the first time since he had met him, he saw anger tighten Paul’s normal amiable expression.

  “Stop it.”

  Ted shrugged. “Stop what?”

  “Stop acting flippant. It doesn’t suit you. I invited you here because I thought you would understand.”

  Ted was close enough to feel Paul tremble as he spoke.

  “He deserves our respect; his life has been ruined because of the risks he takes every day.”

  Ted hugged his knees to his chest. “Go on then. You’re obviously dying to tell me. What does he do that’s so admirable?”

  Paul studied Ted’s face. Then he said, “He works undercover, in companies suspected of abusing animals. He takes photographs and collects evidence of abuse, risking his own safety. He exposes animal cruelty and he hands over the evidence to people like us or other societies who use the evidence in prosecutions.”

  “How dramatic,” Ted said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  “It is more than you or I have ever done, Ted,” Paul said, getting to his feet. “Come back inside with me. Let him tell you what he did last month. Then, if you’re still not impressed...” Paul shrugged and shook his head before turning and heading back inside.

  Ted remained sitting on the step for a moment, thinking. Then he got to his feet and followed Paul back into the house.

  29

  Charlotte hung up the phone after talking to Jameson, from the Health Protection Agency, and looked over at Mackinnon, who sat at the neighbouring desk, looking at her expectantly.

  Charlotte shook her head. “It isn’t good news. They are having trouble with the assay. They’ve been working through the night, but they’re still getting false positives.”

  “What does that mean?” Mackinnon asked.

  “The short answer is we still don’t have confirmation that the poison is aconite.”

  “Isn’t it just a straightforward test?”

  “Unfortunately, it isn’t straightforward at all. Apparently, it took the toxicologist and scientists months to determine the poison in the last aconite poisoning case.”

  Mackinnon closed his laptop and looked at his watch. “The briefing is about to start, so you can give the good news to Brookbank and the team.”

  “Lucky me.”

  When Charlotte and Mackinnon entered the meeting room, the evening briefing was already underway and most of the seats were filled. Brookbank stood at the front of the room, his barrel chest puffed out. Charlotte saw his eyes narrow as he watched Mackinnon enter.

  “DC Brown, good of you to join us. Please, sit here.” Brookbank pointed to a seat at the front.

  Charlotte would have been happier standing at the back, but she made her way to the front, squeezing past the officers in the room, all of whom turned to stare at her.

  She knew Brookbank was trying to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t fall to pieces in the middle of his investigation and it annoyed her.

  Mackinnon stood at the back of the room, leaning against the wall.

  Brookbank ignored him and turned to Charlotte. “Perhaps you could bring us up to date with the toxicology tests?”

  Charlotte nodded and felt dozens of eyes focused on her. “Unfortunately, the news isn’t good. The labs are still working on the assay, so we don’t yet know the identity of the toxin.”

  Charlotte didn’t recognize the officer sitting at the back of the room who asked, “So we still don’t know if they were poisoned with aconite?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No, but I do have some good news. Sally Turner’s condition has improved dramatically, and none of the other people who work in Mason House are showing signs of illness or infection. Hopefully, that means that the toxin we are dealing with won’t cause any further risk to public health.”

  Another officer snorted behind her. “That’s until the animal rights nutters decide to target someone else.”

  Charlotte turned back to face the DCI. “We don’t know for sure that this was carried out by an animal rights group; and now that there is a link to this research group in Oxford…”

  DI Tyler interrupted Charlotte. “Oh, come on, we can’t ignore the obvious facts. We have the note left on Weston’s car and the message posted on the Freedom for Anima
ls forum.”

  Brookbank put his hands in his pockets and perched on the edge of a desk at the front of the room. “So far, the animal rights angle is probably the best lead we have. The note was quite clear that this toxin was about to be used in tests on animals, which is probably why they used it on Weston, but DC Brown is right to suggest we shouldn’t ignore other possibilities.”

  There were murmurs of agreement around the room.

  “The new animal house has already cost a fortune to build and the demands on policing during protests have been expensive,” DI Tyler said.

  Brookbank nodded. “Can’t argue with that and I agree that link with the Oxford research group does strengthen the possibility that John Weston may have been attacked by extremists. So we need to work closely with the Thames Valley on this.

  “They’ve dealt with all the protests and criminal activity related to the new animal house, so it makes sense that we work as a cohesive unit. DI Tyler, you’re in contact with Thames Valley?”

  “Yes, sir. I have a list of organisations that may have been involved, and I have spoken to DC Tenner, at Thames Valley, who’s assigned to monitor movements of the animal rights activists. He has a number of people we can speak to.”

  Brookbank nodded. “Good.” He looked as if he were about to move on to the next item on the agenda.

  DI Tyler grinned. “Actually, sir, I have something else. More information from Thames Valley.”

  Brookbank nodded for him to get on with it, but Tyler gave a self-satisfied smile and took his time. He unfolded a sheet of paper. “It has been brought to my attention that the research lab containing stocks of aconite was broken into last week.” Tyler paused to let his announcement sink in.

  Brookbank looked as if he could quite cheerfully throttle DI Tyler. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? When did you get this information?”

  “Just before the meeting, sir.”

  “And?”