She nodded and looked across at Marsh. ‘It wasn’t meant to be like this, with Barry here. I knew that he still valued the friendship you had. McCluskie went out on a limb, and what you did to him forced the issue. And you still haven’t asked how he is, by the way.’
‘That’s what the job does to you. Removes all trace of human feeling. I’ve turned into a bloody robot.’
‘So why did you end up nearly killing him?’
‘One of the guys in the pub called me,’ he said. ‘He knew that I used to keep an eye on old Phil Woodruff, so he let me know that McCluskie was poking his nose around. That’s why I messaged him about meeting up. I wanted to warn him to steer clear. But when we met he went at it like a bull in a china shop. He wanted to get even with you and use any information about the Woodruffs he could get his hands on to spike your guns. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and I was running out of patience. I just lost it all of a sudden, and socked him one. He fell heavily. I looked up and saw that kid watching, so I left.’
‘So you were involved with the Woodruffs?’ Sophie asked.
‘I’m saying nothing more, not now.’
Sophie looked around her. ‘Enough of this. Let’s go, and let these people get on with their meals.’
She kept her arm on his as they got up. Could she breathe a sigh of relief? She wasn’t sure. She could still feel the tension in Thompson’s body. Should she have tried to cuff him? Surely he’d realise there was no escape?
A fraction of a second before Thompson acted, she knew she’d misjudged. But she had no time to make a move. He suddenly lunged sideways to break her grip, twisted around and crashed through the doorway to the kitchen, colliding with a waiter carrying a tray of food. Sophie and Marsh hurried after him, treading broken crockery, as Thompson made for the delivery door at the rear. The door slammed back against the wall and Thompson tussled briefly with the cop stationed at the entrance, who lost his footing on the wet, cobbled surface. Thompson disappeared along a narrow alley, with Sophie and Marsh in hot pursuit. More booted feet followed behind them. She and Marsh heard other unit members hurrying along the High Street, parallel to the alleyway.
‘He can’t get anywhere,’ Marsh gasped. ‘He’s cut off, but he doesn’t know it.’
They took a left turn, following Thompson’s shadowy form as he burst across the High Street, just in front of Buller. Thompson slowed as he approached the seafront, hesitated then turned left. He was trapped. He ran onto a nearby boating jetty and then stopped, looking around him. He moved slowly to the edge of the timber platform.
‘Don’t be stupid, Bob!’ Marsh shouted. He and Sophie had stopped a few yards short of their quarry. ‘The water’s bloody freezing at this time of year and it’s only three feet deep. You’ll get cold and wet, and I’ll have to get cold and wet coming in after you. What good would that do anyone?’
They watched in horror as Thompson shrugged his jacket aside, pulled a handgun from his waistband and held it to his head.
‘Fooled you though, didn’t I? Fuck the lot of you!’
He pulled the trigger, and the explosive crack echoed across the water. Thompson toppled sideways into the dark sea.
* * *
The local police premises had been temporarily taken over for the debriefing. The atmosphere was subdued. Barry Marsh was silent and pale, shaking his head occasionally as if the whole event had been a bad dream.
Jim Metcalfe, the ACC, listened to their accounts. ‘I think he had some kind of plan for this evening. I don’t know what it was, but it probably involved you, Barry. He had the gun with him and to me, that suggests he was up to something serious. We’ll never know what it was. What I will say is this. We brought things to a conclusion that may not have been satisfactory from our point of view, but the important thing is that public safety was not threatened. It could have developed into a hostage situation, but it didn’t. We must be grateful for that. I’ll speak to the chief and tell her what’s happened. Let’s all go home and try to get some sleep, then we’ll work on it tomorrow. We have to think where we go from here.’
The group dispersed and made their way out of the building.
‘I still can’t get my head round it,’ Marsh said to Sophie. ‘I keep thinking it can’t be true. How did it come to this? Why would he do it? Why would he ruin his career by getting involved with an outfit like the Woodruffs? It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘It didn’t start just in the past couple of years, Barry. My guess is that it had its origins all those years ago when you were both young cops and came into contact with the old guy, Phil Woodruff.’
‘But why didn’t I know? No one ever came near me.’
‘They spotted a weakness in him, that’s why. He’s always been a bit full of his own importance — in my opinion anyway. The way they work is as old as the hills. Start small, then work up. They’d have slipped him a tenner, or done him a favour. Anything to get a young, inexperienced cop hooked. And then, slowly, it gets more serious. And before you know it, you can’t escape. I’ve seen it before. By the time he realised what was really going on, it was too late. You weren’t approached because they didn’t see that same weakness in you. And, let’s face it, he hasn’t been the most loyal of friends from what you’ve said. There was a superficiality about him, a self-obsession. Why else would he take that gun and hide it unused for four years? What does that tell you?’
‘I don’t want to hear this,’ Marsh said.
‘Of course you don’t. What you need is some company. I’m going to phone Gwen. You need her with you tonight.’ She sighed. ‘And then I’ve got to phone Kevin McGreedie. He’ll be devastated. He was Thompson’s boss for the last three years.’
CHAPTER 33: Poaching Plans
Wednesday Morning, Week 3
Sophie sipped at her coffee. She was sitting in the Assistant Chief Constable’s office at police headquarters, discussing the latest developments with Jim Metcalfe. He asked for her thoughts.
‘I think Blythe’s been oiling some cogs in the casino licensing process, and he gets cash in return. He went to Phil Woodruff’s funeral for a purpose, maybe to collect the money. After all, it should have been totally safe, with only close family and friends there. But the Armitage couple wandered in by mistake. My guess is that that they didn’t see anything suspicious, but Blythe and Woodruff didn’t know that. So the old couple were tracked down and killed.’
‘Seems extreme, doesn’t it?’
‘Woodruff has applications in for several casino developments with a total value of ten million. If it got out that bribes were involved, the whole scheme would be scuppered. They wouldn’t want to chance that.’
‘Where’s the money coming from?’ Metcalfe asked.
‘It’s Frimwell cash. Blythe’s wife and Woodruff’s wife are twin sisters. Ricky Frimwell is their half-brother.’
The ACC looked shocked. ‘Are you the right person to be dealing with this? With the Frimwell connection, I mean?’
‘I don’t have a problem with Frimwell,’ Sophie replied. ‘It’s his uncle, Charlie Duff. Him, I never want to see again or even think about. I wonder if Frimwell has been running all this from his prison cell in Long Lartin. His sister Carol, Blythe’s wife, has been visiting him regularly. Sorrento, whose body we found last week, also went to see him. You know what Frimwell’s like. He doesn’t pussyfoot around. Anyone who crosses him gets chopped. We know that. It explains why we’ve got these dead bodies on our hands, two of them innocent of anything at all.’
‘How did the gang identify the old couple? They couldn’t have been there more than a minute or two. Whoever killed them went to a lot of trouble.’
Sophie shrugged. ‘If they watched them getting into their car, then they might have used the registration. It’s possible that Thompson played a part, using the PNC. If so, we should be able to trace his activity. But there are another couple of issues that are muddying the water for us, so we’re not ready to move yet.’
<
br /> The ACC stroked his chin. ‘How’s your DS taking last night’s events? He was close to Thompson at one time, wasn’t he?’
‘Barry will be fine, sir. I got his fiancé to come over last night. She’s a DS in Southampton. She’ll have looked after him.’
‘What about the Armitage daughter? The doctor? How’s she coping?’
‘I’m seeing her now, on my way back to Blandford. She likes to be kept up to date, but I’ll give her the abridged version.’
The ACC looked at his watch. ‘Time for me to set off for Poole Hospital to check on McCluskie. I phoned earlier and they told me he was in a medically induced coma. They plan to keep him that way for a couple of days. But I need to show my face. What was he up to, Sophie?’
She rose, deciding not to tell him everything she’d gleaned from Thompson the previous night. With McCluskie still critically ill, the right thing to do was give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘God knows,’ she finally said. ‘Some scheme of his own. Blackman is adamant that McCluskie was acting alone. Apparently he was asking his old cronies what they knew about the Woodruffs. We’re assuming that someone didn’t like it and somehow let Thompson know. But the attack followed so fast. To my mind, that means one of those men McCluskie met for lunch knew about the Thompson-Woodruff deal. Whoever it was called Thompson right away. And they were all ex-cops, which makes it a bit worrying. Well, it’s your problem, sir, not mine. Thank goodness.’
* * *
Barry Marsh and Rae Gregson were back at the council chambers. They were scrutinising every commercial planning and licensing decision that had involved Councillor Blythe, and had spotted a sequence that would have benefitted the Woodruffs or the Frimwells. There was little doubt — these two family-based businesses seemed to have received favourable treatment for several of their club and casino developments. The two detectives took away copies of some of the planning application documents and minutes of the planning meetings. Councillor Blythe had played a prominent role in all of them.
‘Do we have the expertise for this kind of work?’ Rae asked. ‘I’m a novice at this type of sleaze. How about you?’
He shook his head. ‘Me too. We’ll talk it over with the boss.’
They left the council chambers and drove back to the Blandford incident room, where they told Sophie of their concerns.
‘It’s brainwave time,’ she replied. ‘I know the very person, and it solves so many problems. Leave it with me. I’ll have to get the approval of Matt Silver and the ACC.’
Rae and Marsh left Sophie’s office. ‘Did she actually look happy just then?’ said Rae. ‘What’s she up to?’
Marsh sighed. ‘Don’t ask me. I can never tell what’s going on in that brain of hers. She’ll have thought of some scheme that will be way beyond anything I could have dreamt up. Let’s just get back to work on this stuff and see what we can pick out.’
* * *
Sophie was on the phone to her boss, Matt Silver. ‘Can we poach her, Matt? It’s exactly what she’s been specialising in, over in Bath. She did commercial fraud last year and is doing this kind of stuff now. And Barry and I know her so well. It would be fantastic if you could get her on loan from Avon and Somerset. Can’t you think up some angle that would get her released for a couple of days? Even offer my services in part exchange? I’m anybody’s if the price is right.’
She replaced the handset, feeling more cheerful than she had in days. It would be great if she could get Lydia Pillay back for a short while to help them with these complex council records. But her plans went further than that, though she hadn’t mentioned them to Silver. With Thompson dead, there would be a vacancy for a DS to work for Kevin McGreedie in Bournemouth, and Sophie had heard through the grapevine that Lydia had passed her sergeant’s exams with flying colours. If only she could be tempted back to this area! Maybe a few days with her and Barry, being reminded of happy times, might cause Lydia to consider the possibility. Along with a few gentle nudges, of course.
CHAPTER 34: Business Proposals
Wednesday Afternoon, Week 3
In Long Lartin high security prison, Ricky Frimwell paced the length of his cell. What the fuck was going on? Why had everyone suddenly stopped answering his questions? Even his half-sister, Carol, the one with a bit of loyalty, had clammed up and was refusing to answer his calls. She’d even cancelled this afternoon’s visit, according to the warden. As for her twin, stuck-up Sue, she hardly ever visited anyway. Ricky was becoming increasingly convinced that he’d miscalculated with Sue. Too many principles and too many reservations, that was her trouble. She’d even got to his mum, infecting her with that holier-than-thou attitude. It was fucking upside down, those twins and their lives. Sue was too prim and proper, but was married to a would-be gangster. Carol shared his own outlook on life, grab as much as you can whenever you can, and she was married to a fucking councillor! Where was the logic? Women! He’d never get to the bottom of how their minds worked. Didn’t any of them realise he was just trying to help them? He wasn’t going to gain anything from all this planning, not stuck in gaol for the rest of his life. It was all for their benefit, not that they appreciated what he was trying to do. Maybe he should just give up on the scheming and settle for an easy life.
The thought of that fucking cop still needled him. Bitch. He remembered when they’d first met, on that derelict farm on the edge of Poole Harbour. That look she’d given him. Even then she’d known. From then on she’d never let go. Like a fucking terrier with its teeth clamped on his leg, dragging him down. He’d desperately wanted a way to get back at her, and it had looked as though this could be it. Maybe he’d been too hopeful. Anyway, what did it matter? She was only a side issue. The main thing was to keep the properties in family hands. Was that plan still on? Had he misjudged things by telling Woodruff that Sorrento needed to be permanently removed from the scene after all his meddling? What had gone wrong? He couldn’t tell, not locked in a prison cell with all contact chopped for some reason. Something was going on outside. He could sense it.
* * *
Marilyn Mitchell walked slowly into the lobby of the Merwell Hotel in Poole and looked around for the entrance to the lounge. Very plush, she thought. Nice carpets, wood-panelled walls, smart staff at the reception desk. So this was the type of environment that Sue Woodruff moved in. Well, maybe she could get used to it. If she did agree to work with Sue, it would have to be according to the law. She wasn’t going to be persuaded to do what she knew was wrong. She ran a hand over her belly, feeling the bulge. A receptionist in a smart uniform asked if she needed any help.
Marilyn followed the directions to the Rose Lounge, and walked through an archway into a sunlit seating area filled with roses in giant pots. She spotted Sue sitting to one side, sipping from a china cup, and walked over to her.
Sue rose to greet her. ‘You look lovely, Marilyn. Pregnancy suits you.’
Marilyn laughed. ‘Not sure about that. But at least I know what to expect this time. I’ve been through it twice before.’ She sat down heavily and allowed Sue to pour her a cup of tea and push across a plate of cakes. ‘Those look wicked,’ she added. ‘But hey ho, what’s to lose?’
‘Have you had a chance to think over my proposal?’ Sue asked.
Marilyn nodded. ‘I have.’ She reached down and took some papers from her bag. ‘I have a few minor issues with one or two of the ideas, but the overall plan looks good and I’d be happy to work with you. I need to make clear, though, that I won’t tolerate anything illegal, or even slightly shady. Some of the things your Wayne has got involved with are a bit dodgy, and I won’t let Gordon get involved if I think things are suspect.’
Sue shook her head. ‘No, no. I promise. I’ve had enough. I don’t think anyone realises what it was like, growing up with that half-brother of mine. Ricky always was an out-and-out bastard, even at home. Wayne’s very different, but I’ve had enough of him too.’
Marilyn listened in silence.
‘We’ll
concentrate only on the Woodruff places that we can run legitimately. The cafes, hotels, and maybe a couple of the pubs. The rest we ditch. I think I’ve got potential buyers for most of them. They pulled Wayne down, those places, with the lowlife that went there. I thought I’d seen the end of that kind of thing when Ricky got put away, but Wayne’s started going down the same route. I know what he’s up to. I’ve always kept him up to date regarding my family trust — he’s my husband, after all. But now he’s muscling in on it for his own ends. The thing is, the Woodruffs didn’t have any kind of plan. They just accumulated properties willy nilly. Wayne thinks the merger with Frimwell will be a way out. He thinks I agree, but I don’t. I’ve already started selling off the crappier properties, and I bought old Phil’s shares in Woodruff Holdings before he died. Wayne doesn’t know yet. I told Phil it would keep the business in the family. Phil didn’t know that half of the shares were already in my name. I’m now the majority shareholder, but no one’s twigged yet. Same with Midwinter Tide and the Frimwell trust.’ She took a long sip of tea. ‘I’ve worked for years to get to this position, Marilyn. And none of them realise it. I have all the power now, but I haven’t started flexing my muscles yet. I was waiting till I got the right people behind me. And that’s Gordon, you and maybe Justin. I’m finished with Wayne. He’s been off again with some floozy for most of the weekend, and I warned him last time that I wouldn’t tolerate it any more. He’s got what’s coming.’
‘Revenge may not be the best motive for branching out like this, Sue.’
‘I know that. I hated the way Ricky ruined everything for our family, and Wayne seems to be heading in the same direction. That bastard Ricky ruined Mum’s life. Can you imagine what it’s done to her, being the mother of a murdering psychopath? People don’t know he’s my brother ’cause I have a different surname. I’ve told Mum to change her surname by deed poll, but she’s not done anything about it yet. No, revenge isn’t my main reason for doing this. The time is right to merge the two businesses, but it’s me that’s going to do it, not Wayne and Ricky. People think I’m just a dumb blonde, but they have no idea how wrong they are.’
Detective Sophie Allen Box Set 2 Page 45