Cut Out

by Marcia Woolf

  Dawn leaned back even further in her chair. It creaked alarmingly.

  “But he was upset enough to kill himself when he heard what had happened to her? In that case, he knew who’d done it, or suspected who it was.”

  “Nilsson, you mean?”

  “Oh, yeah. Like Nilsson would get his hands dirty. Maybe one of Nilsson’s hit squad.”

  “I’d just like to point out,” I said, “that Nilsson is a fund manager, not the fucking Godfather. Even if he found out that Susie was really PC Dillon, do you honestly think he’d have her killed? It’s not very subtle.”

  Dawn fished around in a bag on the table, found half a poppadom and took a bite out of it.

  “He’s Swedish.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You’ve seen all that Scandi crime drama on the telly. Load of psychos.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  Ollie got up and opened another beer.

  “Girls, girls. Stop this squabbling.”

  I glared at him.

  “Ladies. Women. Females of the species. Shut the fuck up.”

  He took a swig of beer.

  “If Simon Leach knew that Nilsson was involved in this Alphabet Game racket, and given he was the finance director I find it hard to imagine he didn’t know, unless he was a total idiot, then it’s likely he also knew Susie was working for us. Probably Nilsson found out and told him. So then they have a problem: what to do about Susie. And Nilsson tells Leach that he’s bought her off and not to worry his pretty little head about it. Then the body’s found and Leach realises that Nilsson has had her disposed of. Leach can see no way out, knows he’s implicated, and Bob’s your uncle.”

  “Or,” I said, “Nilsson has Leach killed to make it look like he murdered Susie.”

  “You’ve changed your tune,” said Dawn. “One minute he’s not the Godfather and the next he’s had two people bumped off. Make your mind up.”

  “So where does this Sally Dannatt woman come into it?”

  Ollie stood up and mooched around the table, inspecting the cartons for left-overs.

  “Nilsson’s involved in financing a deal between the UK and Swiss governments to supply Defence IT to the Swiss Army. Dannatt’s job is to make sure that the financial side is all straight and legal. If it comes out that Nilsson’s been swindling the great European public out of their winnings, the whole deal’s going belly up. Very embarrassing, especially as Nilsson was hand-picked for the job by the Secretary of State for the Treasury, on the recommendation of the Swedish Prime Minister, no less.”

  “This is all conjecture, though, isn’t it?” I said.

  Dawn shrugged.

  “It would have been helpful if Dillon had got some evidence.”

  “But now Leach is dead, you’ve got a reason to go in and find it, haven’t you?”

  “Not a job for our lot. We’ll have to hand it over to the FCA.”

  “Supposing Nilsson wasn’t ripping anybody off? Maybe it’s all legit. He funds this quiz game thing just to provide publicity, make himself out to be philanthropic. Then Susie goes undercover, no-one finds out about her, but Leach develops some sort of obsession and kills her in a crime of passion, and hangs himself when the body’s found. Nothing at all to do with Nilsson.”

  As I said this, I could see Ollie almost was wishing I was right, but there were too many coincidences. I didn’t believe it myself. Not to mention the two guys in the car parked outside my house; the same two who’d been in the restaurant when I’d had lunch with Nilsson. And the guy on the plane. That wasn’t just chance. He’d been having me followed, checking up. He must have known about Susie, and he knew about me, and now Leach was dead.

  15th July

  Day Three - Transcript

  Mr Ivan Shorter, QC (Defending Counsel)

  Mr Shorter:

  DCI Sayler, I would be grateful if you could tell the court at what point during your investigation into the alleged financial misconduct at CBIB you became aware of DCI Sullivan’s concerns about the involvement of Dame Sally Dannatt?

  DI Sayler:

  I don’t recall.

  Mr Shorter:

  You don’t recall? Really? Something as significant as the possibility that a senior member of the investigating team, the person in charge of the HMRC’s own investigation, was coming under suspicion, and you don’t recall when that happened?

  DI Sayler:

  Not precisely.

  Mr Shorter:

  Do you recall imprecisely when it might have come to your attention?

  DI Sayler:

  Towards the end of November.

  Mr Shorter:

  Towards the end of November. And who was it, on your team, that first raised the possibility that Dame Sally may have been acting in an irregular manner with regard to this investigation?

  DI Sayler:

  I don’t recall.

  Mr Shorter:

  My goodness, DI Sayler, your recollection of this entire matter does seem to be remarkably hazy. Is there anything, in your own notes perhaps, that would jog your memory as to when the team became aware, specifically, of the identity of Fiona Carswell?

  DI Sayler:

  It was shortly before Mr Henning Nilsson was arrested.

  Mr Shorter:

  How shortly before? An hour? A day? A week?

  DI Sayler:

  I believe it was about three hours before.

  Mr Shorter:

  You believe? And do you believe this to the best of your hazy recollection, DI Sayler, or is it in some way recorded that you became aware of Miss Carswell’s identity only on the day of Mr Henning Nilsson’s arrest?

  DI Sayler:

  It is recorded in the notes of a team meeting held on the morning of Mr Henning Nilsson’s arrest.

  Mr Shorter:

  Now, DI Sayler, perhaps whilst we are on the subject of belief, is it your belief that either DCI Sullivan or Miss Charlotte Garrity were aware of Miss Carswell’s identity prior to this team meeting? It is possible, for example, that either or both of them had this knowledge but had failed to impart it to you?

  DI Sayler:

  I don’t know.

  Mr Shorter:

  You don’t know if they knew, or you don’t know what you believe?

  [laughter in court: Judge Simler calls for order]

  DI Sayler:

  To the best of my knowledge and belief, DCI Sullivan did not know the identity of Miss Carswell until the day of that meeting.

  Mr Shorter:

  I see. And what about Miss Garrity? Did you have any reason to think – to believe – that she was any less in the dark?

  DI Sayler:

  There was some mutual dislike. Miss Garrity thought that Miss Carswell was suspicious of her.

  Mr Shorter:

  As well she might have been. The question was, however, did you have any reason to think or believe that Miss Garrity had become aware that Fiona Carswell was part of a parallel investigation into the bank’s activities?

  DI Sayler:

  None at all.

  Mr Shorter:

  The fact of the matter was, then, that Dame Sally Dannatt’s department had pulled the wool over the eyes of the Metropolitan Police’s team and no-one on your team – whether in an official capacity or not – had any idea that there was a parallel investigation taking place. You had in effect, been deceived. Is that correct?

  DI Sayler:

  Yes, sir.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday 25th November

  A Spanner in the Works

  Dawn arrived just as I was making toast. It’s quite spooky how she always seems to turn up when there’s food on the table. I handed her the marmalade.

  “So, what’s up?”

  I’d decided to tell her about the timing of Dirk’s visit to Jack, and she listened while I went through it, buttering more toast as she nodded along with my story.

  “The thing is,
Dawn, nobody at the prison is going to tell me who saw him that Friday, but I bet you could find out. In your official capacity.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, you could, couldn’t you?”

  After another bite of toast, she stood up and went over to the window.

  “You seen those two guys recently, the ones in the grey Merc?”

  “No. I was hoping they’d given up. Why? Are they out there now?”

  Dawn turned to face me, blocking out most of the natural light. She really was piling on the pounds.

  “Yes, as it happens. Must’ve just arrived: they weren’t there when I got here.”

  “Fuck. Who are they? What the hell do they want?”

  “Why don’t you go and ask?”

  I laughed. She grinned back.

  “No, I’m serious. I wonder what they’d do if you went out there and banged on their window. What do you want? Stop spying on me. You’re about as invisible as a turd on a sheepskin rug.”

  Funny. I like Dawn: she’s got balls. Well, I say that. I don’t know for sure, obviously, but it wouldn’t surprise me.

  “Do you think they work for Nilsson?”

  She looked out of the window again, examining the evidence.

  “On balance, I’d say not.”

  “Maybe they’re doing it deliberately. Maybe they want to be seen: putting the frighteners on me. Letting me know I’m being observed.”

  “Why would Nilsson do that?”

  She was right. What would be the point? Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to discuss.

  “You didn’t answer me. About the prison.”

  Dawn sighed and plonked herself back at the table, making the chair lurch alarmingly to one side as she adjusted her posterior to get most of it onto the seat. I prayed the chair would hold out against the onslaught of the Metropolitan Police’s most dangerous rear end. She folded her arms, leaned back – apparently unconcerned by the chair’s plaintive squeak – and looked me in the eye.

  “You know when we had that discussion in the car, about Sally Dannatt?”

  “What about it? Did she tell him about Ollie and me?”

  “The thing is, I’ve already made some enquiries at Wandsworth. You said Jack didn’t get any visitors, so I guessed it would be a very short list of names.”

  “And? Was it her on that Friday?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? It can’t have been Dirk Brenninkmeijer.”

  “No: he went on Tuesday 4th.”

  “While I was out getting a job at the bank.”

  “Exactly.”

  Dawn was looking distinctly uneasy, like she suddenly had cold feet about the whole business. She shifted her position and the chair groaned again. Whatever she’d been told was presenting her with something of a problem, and from all our earlier conversations I felt sure our mystery visitor had to be someone from inside the case, probably that Ash Kumar guy – although I was struggling to think what he’d got to do with it, unless he’d just been Dannatt’s messenger boy, but I didn’t really see what she had to gain.

  “I’m sorry, Cookie. Look, I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t understand it myself.”

  “What? Come on, spit it out. Was it you who told him?”

  She looked horrified.

  “Me? No, of course not.”

  “So it was Kumar, then?”

  Dawn rubbed her eyes.

  “I wasn’t going to tell you, because the visitor was Ollie.”

  To say I was stunned barely covered it. Dawn leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. I made us more coffee and sat down opposite her.

  “You’re absolutely certain about this?”

  She looked up.

  “Yeah. I don’t get it either.”

  I thought back on all the conversations we’d had recently, and the word that kept pinging back into my head was parole.

  “Dawn, you know the other day when we were talking about Jack and the idea of parole came up?”

  She looked startled.

  “Yeah, that was weird. What was that all about? Jack’s got another eighteen months to go, minimum.”

  “That’s what I said, when Ollie told me the first time. He said we had to—”

  “What?”

  Oh dear Jesus. What a stupid, mad, halfwit – Now it was all becoming horribly clear, like a cliff edge coming into view as the fog clears and you realise another three or four steps and you’d have been over, over and falling towards who-knows-what below. Dawn reached across and took hold of my arm.

  “What is it?”

  “I think he’s been trying to do some sort of deal with Jack.”

  Dawn stared at me and I could see she was on the precipice with me now, both of us looking beyond the edge.

  “Early parole.”

  “There’s no way on earth Jack would go for that. Oh, God. What was Ollie thinking of? It all makes sense now. That’s why Jack was so angry.”

  “You really think Ollie would go to see Jack to try to cut a deal? For what?”

  “Oh, what do you think? He must have told him about us. All this crap about getting married. I imagine he tried to get Jack to agree to end our relationship. That was the price for the early parole. It was never going to work. All he did was stir up a hornet’s nest.”

  “That’s crazy. That's not how it works. There'd have to be some other grounds for parole, aside from your wedding plans. Jack must have had some information to trade.”

  “I'm sure they could concoct something between them.”

  “Ollie wouldn’t do that.”

  “Oh no? Okay, what’s the alternative scenario, Detective?”

  She jumped up.

  “We have to sort this out.”

  “Hold on. “

  I gestured to her to sit down again, and to wait a minute while I thought some more.

  “That day at the pub. You lot still don’t know what the connection is between the shooter and Ollie, do you?”

  “No. But we’ll find out...”

  “Yes, well, in the meantime, think about this, DI Sayler. What if the shooting was a wedding present from Jack? And more to the point, was it meant for Ollie, or for me?”

  Dawn frowned. She opened her mouth and shut it again. I took a sip of my drink and watched her as my words drifted down through the grey matter and finally came to rest. I cocked my head, enquiringly.

  “Are you honestly sitting there and telling me that Jack would be so angry about you and Ollie that he’d try to have one or both of you killed?”

  I gave her the look that she’d been giving me lately. She shook her head.

  “No. Come off it. Your brother’s a right nutter – well, I’m sorry, but he is – but he loves you, doesn’t he? Isn’t that what this is all about?”

  She was right, of course. It was getting late. I checked outside and the Mercedes was still parked opposite, two men waiting. Waiting and watching.

  “Some do the deed with many tears, and some without a sigh...”

  “Sorry?”

  I smiled.

  “Oscar Wilde. For each man kills the thing he loves... Yet each man does not die.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wednesday 26th November

  Body of Evidence

  “Okay, here’s the plan. We’ve told Nilsson and the CBIB guys that we believe Leach’s death was a suicide and probably unconnected with his job. They know we’re still investigating the hanging, but as far as they’re concerned the focus has moved to Leach’s family, and so we’ve said they can reopen the office and go back to business as normal,” said Ollie.

  “Cookie, since you’re already in at the bank, we’d like you to go back to work as if you’re going to carry on. Well, obviously your boss has just killed himself, so you can play on that a bit for the sake of authenticity, but don’t overdo it. Stay cool and see if you can find anything that might uncover a motive for Leach’s hanging – whether it was suicide or not, he may hav
e had some help or encouragement.”

  I wasn’t entirely thrilled by this plan, since most of it seemed to rely on my ability to look grief-stricken and snoop around undetected, neither of which I’d ever shown any aptitude for in the past.

  “Ollie, are you sure you’ve got permission for me to do this? Proper, above board, from the head honcho?”

  Dawn nodded. “Yes, he has, I was there when he told the Chief. He said you’d been on the inside for a couple of weeks and it was worth going with it for a bit longer. Oh, and he explained who you were as well. Sort of. Not the personal stuff. But nobody else on the team knows who you are.”

  “Ollie?”

  “It was just easier.”

  “What about this Kumar guy? If he knows who I am, why hasn’t he said anything?”

  The looked at each other uneasily. Dawn shrugged.

  “Yeah, bit weird. To be honest, we’re thinking maybe it wasn’t him who ID’d you after all.”

  “Well, somebody did. If it’s no-one on your team who was it? I mean, this Sally Dannatt woman’s not psychic. I assume she’s not in the loop?”

  Ollie shook his head. “The Chief’s aware that we have concerns. So far as she knows, we’re still just investigating Nilsson on the financial side, and Leach is an unrelated suicide.”

  I checked my watch. We were sitting in Dawn’s not-a-Panda car outside the station.

  “It’s nearly eight-thirty. You’d better give me a lift or I’ll be late. Before we go, though, there is something I’ve been wondering about.”

  They exchanged a look via the rear-view mirror.

  “You know when Susie – Dillon – was at the bank, did she give you any indication that she’d found anything? I mean, she was there a while. If she didn’t find any evidence, what makes you think there’s something to find?”