Resident Fear

by Hylton Smith

  “When they realise I am a crazy housewife who is completely out of her depth, and Wolfgang has to explain everything in a dumbed-down fashion, translated from my Italian, they will be concentrating on how they can take advantage of the situation. It took me a while to find a relatively unknown German journalist who was fluent in Italian.”

  *

  Nigel Bradstock felt he had been given the run-around. The Interpol tip off that Baumann had flown back from Cologne to Manchester and headed for Birmingham proved to be a big embarrassment. When his covert operatives took the baton from the Interpol agents they were patient, waiting until they had a perfect place to apprehend the target. They entered the so-called massage parlour mid-afternoon when they were pretty sure there would be only a few punters on the premises. It was an establishment which they knew offered alternative therapies, including personalised ‘erotic pain’ at very reasonable prices. The place descended into panic when they flashed their warrant cards. The officers calmed the owner by saying they only needed to speak with one individual – the latest arrival. He was handed over and escorted off the premises. When they got a good look at him they were confused, and the penny dropped when his ID was accessed. One of the officers knew him as a Colony contractor. They let him go, apologising for the intrusion and informed Bradstock. He was livid with Interpol, but knew he could not challenge them; he still had to think of the bigger picture.

  *

  Renton’s help had arrived from Middlesbrough. Sam Gibson was perfect. They had worked on the same team as rookies in Durham, and Renton remembered him as a grafter rather than a trailblazer. Renton passed him on to Stephanie to bring him up to speed. He rang Cousins and thanked him for getting Gibson in so quickly and taking the press conference on his behalf. Just before he put the phone down, Cousins said he had been speaking to Bradstock.

  “There seems to have been a change of heart. He wants this Bowman or Baumann character found as quickly as possible. He says he told you that he had returned to the UK, and without distracting you from these ‘serial’ killings, he is happy for you to investigate anything which specifically crops up in relation to Bowman. It seems like we are both receiving appreciation of our efforts Jack, or more likely, the pressure has shifted to the Midwest. Forster is on his way back there.” Renton did not dwell on the subject, merely saying, “Will do.”

  *

  Gertrude Baumann was quite shocked when she opened the door to Vivienne and her companions, in fact so shocked that she stood speechless for an uncomfortable length of time.

  “You do know who I am, don’t you Mrs Bowman?”

  “Er, yes of course, I er, well please come in.” She introduced her father and explained that her daughter was out shopping with her grandmother.

  “Can I get you some coffee?” They all nodded enthusiastically, and Gertrude’s father volunteered to make it. The pleasantries did not diminish the awkwardness, so Vivienne decided to get to the point before the coffee arrived.

  “We are still trying to come to terms with what happened to Alistair, and realise you must be very worried about Harry. I have come all this way to see if we can help each other. You may not have heard that I have decided to run the company rather than proceed with any merger plan. I feel it will be better to keep our H.Q. in the UK, rather than transfer it to Germany, and it possibly gives me a better chance of finding the truth. I strongly believe Alistair was killed for his knowledge or his intention to use it despite resistance from our government. It also seems logical that your husband has disappeared for the same reason. I want to find him.”

  “But the police are looking for him, aren’t they?”

  “That’s what we hear, but they don’t seem to be getting very far. I know your husband was to travel to Cologne with you on Saturday evening 3rd November, but I had no idea my husband was booked on the same flight. Did you know about this?” The coffee arrived and gave a natural break in the conversation.

  “No, not until he did not arrive on time.”

  “So, Harry told you he was expecting Alistair by then?” Gertrude shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and it was her father who reacted.

  “Tell them woman, tell them.” She became tearful and could not seem to get started. Her father spoke again.

  “Harry was not on the flight. Gertrude was told by a man using his ticket and passport that Harry was in their care, and that if she wanted her daughter to remain safe in Germany, she should do what she was told. Now Gertrude, for God’s sake tell them.” She summoned up the courage to describe the situation after the flight landed.

  “The man was British, and he said I must tell the German police nothing other than my husband had gone to meet someone in Cologne. He said that once the police here had declared him as officially missing, Harry would be released to come home. He said it could be some time before the German police came to see her, but she must wait for that to happen. My father never agreed with me doing this but I had to think about my daughter as well as Harry. When they did come the German officer just accepted my story and said they would wait a few days before he would be listed as missing. Then they came back and said he was not missing, they had found he had returned to England. They said I had wasted police time. Now that they have heard some people have been killed in England with Harry’s information on them, they are here every day. My father believes that they think I made up the story and suspect me of being involved in his disappearance. His pictures are now on TV and posted all over the place. I am followed everywhere. They think I do not know this, but my father has followed me too and he can see them, making notes behind me. We are very scared now because it is possible that Harry’s body will be found and I will be arrested. If you can find something Mrs Banks, please think about my daughter and the danger she may be in.”

  Schroder was recording all of this on his phone, its microphone discreetly hidden behind his jacket lapel. The meeting continued only for as long as Gertrude permitted, and she wanted them to evaporate as suddenly as they arrived. They began the drive toward Cologne, with Wolfgang again providing the exit road number for Troisdorf.

  *

  As Jack Renton arrived at the hospital, there was quite a lot of activity in Ben Adams’ private room. When he was acknowledged by the staff he was informed that there was also new activity in Ben’s brain. It was not yet evident in his physical form, but there were clear signals of cerebral recovery. The neurosurgeon tried to explain.

  “This is very good news compared to the baseline of a vegetative state, but must be put into perspective. The chances of him regaining consciousness have improved considerably, but as yet we can’t say which motor or speech functions may be impaired.”

  Renton took a deep breath and felt a wave of intense but cautious relief. He therefore declined the urge to ask further questions for the present. Instead he went to the coffee shop until the staff had vacated Adams’ room. When he got there, Jane and Daniel were already sharing a pot of tea.

  “Let’s drink up and go for something to eat.” They walked out of the main entrance linked emotionally as well as by hand.

  *

  The journey to Inverkip was punctuated by Beresford’s periods of lucidity. He was eventually able to sustain a conversation. From then on, it did not take long for him to rationalise that he must comply with the demands of Graham. He understood the rules, and that his time was up, the only bargaining chip he had left was the protection of his wife and daughter. Graham had shown him a suggested form of words which would constitute his suicide note. They wanted it to be logical and credible, whereas he wanted content that would make it difficult for further reprisals against his family. He eventually got them to agree to part of his note being a confession of his self-inflicted exile, and the part the London Colony had played in it. He wanted a reference that if any harm came to either his wife Marlene, or Vivienne, the police would know where to look. It fitted with Graham’s desire to get the police to treat the case as straightforward
suicide and the London people to believe it was an intensely personal antagonistic expression of fear from Beresford. He liked the idea that he and Finley would be able to capitalise on this, to begin harmonisation between the two regions. It added credibility that the problem had always been with Peter Beresford and nothing to do with either Eddie Finley or himself.

  The note was placed in a prominent place on the boat, and Beresford was allowed to drink brandy until he was unconscious. Then he was injected with over half a bottle more. They stayed until he expired amongst involuntary vomit, and then at the dead of night, made their way back to the car, which was parked a couple of miles inshore. It was expected that they would be back in the Midwest long before he was discovered.

  Chapter 19

  Wednesday November 14th 2018

  Thankfully there were no reports of a body having been discovered, but there was an envelope addressed to Mr Renton. The contents and the address on the envelope were later shown to be from a computer printer. He called Sam Gibson and Stephanie Baker into the office. He had already put the letter into a plastic bag. It read:

  ‘If you were keeping up, you may have expected another poor innocent person to have suffered the ultimate sacrifice. Maybe you have to work harder now, otherwise the thread will snap, and then you will be lost. You must find me; it is the only way it will stop. I have no alternative means of bringing people’s attention to a disgusting situation. Its festering presence thrives even during the short interval between the writing and reading of this note. You must help me to bring this needless killing to an end. In case you think I am a crank, send someone to the Derwent Walk nature trail. From Rowlands Gill, proceed over the viaduct towards Lintzford. After only a few hundred yards look carefully to the right, and you will be able to pick out a small, crumbling ruin. It is known as Gibside Priory and is on private land. The person you find will have identification which will facilitate your investigation, I am curious as to what you will make of it, but it should help you. Sentinel.’

  The reactions of the two onlookers were very different. Stephanie seemed to shiver, and shook her head.

  “This is a real curve ball. I’ve never been convinced that the killings were all committed by one person. They had a whiff of ‘organisation’ about them; a group or a gang – something of that nature.”

  Gibson was about as pragmatic as Renton expected.

  “This is the killer’s first definite mistake that we know of so far. He or she knows that, and knows that we will know. This is a critical point in our investigation. Absolute concentration on detail will bring the author of this note to us.” Renton was more circumspect.

  “We can’t rule out a copycat scenario. This envelope has no stamp. I’ve checked with reception and they say it must have been hand-delivered into the reinforced mailbox. You know, since that spate of suicide bomb incidents forced all stations in the country to code-lock the entrances, and have this thick metal cavity for the mail fitted with state of the art detection equipment, we no longer interact directly with people who try to contact us in writing. We therefore have no alternative but to trawl the station CCTV for the last couple of days. Sam, you should get started on this right away. Let’s not panic just yet, I’ll have to pass this on to Cousins, but until then only the three of us need to know about the note. I’m going to take a ride with uniform to this ruin. If what the note says is verified we have to think whether it’s feasible for one person to have killed two people in London, two up here, and then there is Banks, who could still have met his end in either location. The selection of the victims is critical if we are supposed to believe it is the work of only one person, and if we get more notes, we must look for knowledge that hasn’t yet been made public. Keep an open mind. Steph, can you alert Greg Watson and Clive Donoghue that I may be calling them in an hour or so?”

  Meanwhile the Crown Prosecution service was relatively upbeat about charging Vic Jackson with the murder of Purdil Pitafi. Even though Donoghue’s DNA work was not complete, he had not encountered any disqualifying evidence. The DNA profile from the blood on Banks’ hands did match that of Jackson, but he had claimed he had only moved the body, and it was a cumbersome task. The safer case at this stage was Pitafi, and the results were imminent, thus the expectation of them backing up fingerprint and video footage.

  *

  Marlene Beresford had not been able to reach her husband and with Vivienne still in Germany, she was feeling quite vulnerable. It was not like him to avoid regular contact even though that was all it was, checking the situation at both ends. Her life had been like this for years; he had insisted on it. When she rang Vivienne, the advice was to speak to the police. Marlene was nervous about this as it could cause more serious problems than the one she was desperate to solve. All she knew about his trip was that he was travelling to the Midwest, and now she was beginning to wish she had gone with him. She would give it another few hours. If there had simply been no signal where he was, he would have used a public phone, of that she was sure.

  *

  Vivienne’s reception at Bio-Synth seemed a little over the top. She had anticipated concern and the appropriate level of interest in Alistair’s untimely demise, but this was way beyond expectation. No fewer than fourteen personnel were involved in rolling out the red carpet. They varied from Group Chief Executive to the highest company legal presence. There was an air of controlled tension as they took their seats. Vivienne began with the explanation that Schroder was her advisor and translator.

  “My first language is Italian and as I want to be sure that everything is understood on both sides, Wolfgang will convey my position to you in German, as I am unable to do this myself. He will also be able to translate your views into Italian. I thought it would be better than both of us struggling with the semantics of English.”

  This was well received and she brought them up to date with the mystery surrounding the murder. Then she went straight for the jugular through Schroder. While he said they must talk about Baumann, she was able to scan the body language. It was varied. The C.E. and top lawyer were visibly uncomfortable, whereas technical and commercial management simply looked bored. She had her first request.

  “I think it would be better to discuss this point with a limited number of people.”

  When this was translated it was executed without further discussion. She was then informed that those who had left would be available as required. The lawyer was first to challenge Vivienne’s order of agenda.

  “We have not heard from Baumann and although that must be worrying to all of us, the merger did not depend on his presence or future employment. We believe it is a matter for the police.”

  The pause for thought provided by having to translate everything had been one of Vivienne’s defences against drawing premature conclusions, and this was the first test. Schroder articulated her steadfast position.

  “I am not here to tell you how to run your company. I am sure you would have asked at some time, so we will cover it now. The information which was to arrive here was to be split between the two of them, Alistair and Baumann. The merger agreement and bond would have gone with my husband and the intellectual property safeguards with Baumann. My husband’s briefcase is still missing and so is that of Baumann. So gentlemen, I have instructed the bank to cancel the bond in case there is a fraudulent attempt to spirit the money into the ether. As sole inheritor of my husband’s estate, I now own all of his stock in Bio-Cure Industries. The current exposure has to be nullified, and my legal advice is that the missing merger agreement may be as yet unsigned by Alistair, and in any case does not override his last will and testament. Then there is the small matter that the agreement may prove to be the reason he was murdered. You are business experts, so you surely understand that I need to recover the intellectual property as a priority. The position with respect to the merger will remain on hold until Baumann’s briefcase is recovered. That is unless you have a better idea. I am now running Bio-Cure
Industries, and as such I am just getting used to working full time, but I can promise you that I will look at the position differently to my husband. I am not interested in things such as ‘extraordinary shares’ and ‘mitigation of capital gains tax’. I want to bulldoze this biased British resistance to clinical approval into the dust. They continually delay ratification of our cures for terminal conditions. It is a question of morality as well as profitability. You apparently offer a quicker route to clinical approval here, but that may not always be the case. The ball is in your court and I will understand if you consider the original agreement to be defunct.”

  Martin Parrish had not been introduced to the illustrious gathering, and nobody had asked in what capacity he was there. He had expected a polite exchange and diplomatic postponement of the agreement, and not the firebrand approach by Vivienne. He could not help feeling that the transformation from self-indulgent billionaire’s daughter to moral crusader was destined to last no longer than it would take these people to assemble the artillery.

  They asked for a private discussion, and suggested that the visitors took a short plant tour to familiarise themselves with the operation. This was accepted and proved quite valuable. On return, another two employees had joined the meeting; they were the research director and the head patent lawyer. The C.E. recommenced the dialogue.

  “We are happy to supplant the original agreement with a new one as long as it is concluded expeditiously, and of mutual benefit. We therefore would like to hear your proposals.”

  Vivienne had never been a shrinking violet and was able to divorce the lack of detailed knowledge of the business from the tenets of brinkmanship. This was one lesson from her father that she had never resisted.

  “I think there is a slight misunderstanding, so I am pleased that we have the translator with us. My timescale would appear different to yours. The British bureaucracy knows nothing of time deadlines when dealing in clinical approval, or thickness of the dust from piles of applications waiting for confirmation of receipt. If you are willing to accept that kind of protracted review period for a new agreement I can readily accommodate it. If not, then you need to explain how you can help shorten this dead time.”