by D. S. Butler
“What the hell are you laughing at? I’ve had enough of this, Marlo. That’s it. It’s over.” Rob was really shouting now and getting incredibly worked up.
His brother didn’t like it one bit. He put his glass of milk on the counter and then covered his ears with his hands and began whimpering.
Marlo rolled his eyes. “Don’t make such a fuss, Rob. It’s just a bit of fun. We won’t be getting any money out of Lila’s parents so we need to get our kicks where we can.”
Rob pushed his face up to Marlo’s then stabbed a finger at his chest. “That is not how I want to get my kicks,” he growled.
That was the last straw for Marlo.
He glared down at Rob’s finger that was rudely prodding him in the chest. Rob had crossed a line and needed to be punished, but Marlo wasn’t stupid.
Rob’s punishment would come, but right now he still needed a man on the ground.
“Come on, let’s not fall out. We’ve got a big payday coming. I realise you’re not as into this game as I am, so I’ll tell you what. We’ll compromise. We’ll do one more game and then ask for the money. Just one more.”
Marlo thought he was being incredibly reasonable, but from the flush on Rob’s face and the way he gritted his teeth together, Marlo realised he wasn’t really in a compromising mood. Well, tough. Marlo was in charge here, and the sooner Rob realised that, the better.
He shot an irritated glance at Benny whose whimpers were growing louder. “Can’t you shut him up?”
Rob glared at him and then put a gentle hand on Benny’s shoulder, leading him out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room.
He could hear them talking but tuned them out.
This was a complication he could do without. He hated having to pander to people like Rob, weak-willed individuals, who didn’t realise when they were onto a good thing. They wanted everything Marlo could give them, but they weren’t prepared to work for it.
“Rob,” Marlo called out, finally getting bored and losing his patience. “We need to talk.”
Rob came back into the kitchen. “I need to take Benny home. He’s really upset.”
That was not happening. Marlo shook his head. “No, you can’t do that. He has to stay here.”
Rob shook his head. “You don’t understand… When Benny gets upset –”
“I don’t care,” Marlo snapped, cutting Rob off. “He is not going anywhere. We can’t trust that daft sod not to spill our secret. Now let’s go to the pub down the street. I need to get out of here, clear my head and have a drink. We can talk things over there.”
Chapter 24
At Wood Street Station, Mackinnon walked over to the coffee machine. They had a large pot brewing and would probably have the machine working through the night. He poured himself a large mug, and when he turned around to walk back to his workstation, Evie caught his eye and waved him over.
“We’ve got some information back from the mobile phone companies. They are pay-as-you-go, and the phones were purchased online by a Mr Albert Banks. According to the phone company, they were delivered, but he says that his credit card was stolen and he never received the phones. We’ve checked, and he did report his credit card stolen shortly after the phones were delivered. But it might still be worth talking to him.”
Mackinnon nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go myself and check him out. Can you send me the details?”
It was a common enough occurrence, and they had expected that the phones would have been purchased with a stolen credit card. If Albert Banks wasn’t involved in the crime and the phones were delivered to his address, that meant the kidnappers would have had to be waiting for the parcel ready to intercept it before Albert Banks took delivery of the phones.
Potentially Albert Banks could provide some useful information, particularly if he had any idea who may have had access to his credit card. They could crosscheck any names he gave them.
Mackinnon thanked Evie and carried his coffee back to his desk.
On the way, he passed Charlotte, who was looking at some archived articles on the web. On her computer screen was a blown up image of Mr and Mrs Watson dressed for a night on the town.
They were wearing full evening dress. Mr Watson was in black tie, and Claire Watson wore a full-length, silver gown set off with dazzling jewels.
“What are you working on?” Mackinnon asked.
Charlotte looked up and smiled. “Still working on potential motives. There’s been a recent takeover of a medium-sized British company by Peter Watson, which could have created some bad feeling among the old employees. That is something worth looking into, but more and more it looks like they were targeted because they were rich.” Charlotte pointed at the image of Claire Watson on the screen. “Her earrings alone must be worth a couple of grand, and that necklace…” Charlotte shook her head. “I can’t even imagine what that is worth.”
Mackinnon took a sip of his coffee as he stared at the image. Finally, he said, “Sure, they are wealthy, but something about this case seems to be personal. And I don’t understand why they’ve targeted Lila George as well. Her family are… well, not in the same league as the Watsons. I doubt they could gather together much money for a ransom.”
Charlotte sighed and nodded, rubbing her eyes, and then reached for her half-full cup of coffee.
She took a mouthful and then grimaced. She’d obviously let it grow cold again.
“How is your Nan doing?” Mackinnon asked.
Charlotte smiled. “She’s fine. I went to hers for dinner last night. She can still talk the hind legs off a donkey.”
“And are your parents still living in Spain?”
Charlotte nodded. “To be honest, I think they’ve got the right idea. I think they’re a bit worried about the outcome of the referendum, though. I might go out there for a holiday once all this is over and take a few days leave. How are things with you? Didn’t your parents retire to Dorset?”
“They’re in Devon now. I’d like to see them more often, but it’s such a trek to go for the weekend, especially when Chloe and the girls have things planned. I was thinking of going down on my own in a couple of weeks, maybe surprise them.”
Charlotte smiled and pushed her coffee cup back on the desk. “And how are things with Chloe and the girls?”
Mackinnon paused before answering. Things were going well apart from Sarah’s issues. It seemed like that girl always had something going on. “They’re good. I’m still a little worried about Sarah, though.”
“Has she been giving you more grief?”
“To be honest, I hardly ever see her these days. Since she went to university, she rarely comes back home, but I’m worried about her.” As Mackinnon spoke the words aloud, he realised they were true.
“Worried? Why?”
“She acts like she’s angry all the time, but she’s vulnerable. I can’t help thinking she’s going to get herself into trouble.”
Charlotte frowned. “Does Chloe agree?”
Mackinnon shook his head. “Forget I said anything. I’m just a bit distracted today, and I clearly haven’t had enough caffeine.” He raised his cup and took a large mouthful to prove his point.
Charlotte nodded slowly. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She probably just gives you a hard time because you’ve moved in with her mum. She’s used to having Chloe all to herself.”
Mackinnon nodded. To a large extent, that was true. He tried to stay out of it when Chloe chastised Sarah for her behaviour. He knew it wasn’t his place to intervene, but after the conversation he’d had with Sarah that morning, he couldn’t help thinking she was in more trouble than she let on.
“I’m heading out now, to talk to Albert Banks. The phones were purchased on his credit card. It doesn’t look like he’s got anything to do with it, but we need to check it out anyway.”
Charlotte stood up and stretched. “Let me know how it goes. I’m going to get another cup of coffee.”
“Don’t let it get cold this
time,” Mackinnon teased, even though he knew she would.
Mackinnon drained the last of his coffee and asked Collins to tell DI Tyler where he’d gone and then headed back to the Towers Estate to talk to Mr Albert Banks.
Chapter 25
Mackinnon decided to walk to the Towers Estate from Wood Street Station. He needed the fresh air to clear his head and wanted to use the walking time to think over the questions he had to ask Albert Banks. He picked up a ham and cheese sandwich and an orange juice from Boots and ate them on the way.
In cases like this, the individual whose credit card was used usually had absolutely nothing to do with the criminal activity, but they couldn’t rule anything out when Ruby Watson and Lila George were still missing.
Albert Banks lived at number twenty-seven, Lily Tower. A section of the Towers Estate had blocks of flats, lanes and alleyways named after different flowers. Mackinnon thought it was an odd choice. The place was a mass of concrete and brick, and there wasn’t an inch of green anywhere, apart from a few squares of scraggly grass and most of that was yellow.
It wasn’t the worst area in the Towers Estate, though, and although there was a touch of graffiti here and there, the area was generally clean and tidy.
Albert Banks lived on the second floor of Lily Tower so Mackinnon took the stairs. Before he knocked on the front door, he could already hear the TV blaring out from inside and knew someone was home. He rapped on the door and waited.
A short man with dark brown skin and a bald head opened the door. He wore a frameless pair of glasses and blinked up at Mackinnon. “Yes?”
Mackinnon showed his warrant card and introduced himself. “I’d like a moment of your time. It’s about your stolen credit card, Mr Banks.”
Albert Banks’ raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I have gone up in the world. I didn’t think the police gave a damn about my stolen credit card when I reported it. Now they’ve sent a detective sergeant to discuss the matter. I couldn’t get five minutes with a PC when it happened.”
He stood with his hand on the door, as though he expected Mackinnon to barge his way in. He hadn’t asked a question, and Mackinnon wasn’t going to launch into a defence of the police service. Instead, he said nothing and waited.
Eventually, Mr Banks’ tense body relaxed, and he took a step backwards into the hall. “I suppose you’d better come in.”
Mackinnon followed him into the dark, narrow hallway as Mr Banks waddled along towards a brightly lit room at the end of the hallway. It turned out to be the kitchen.
Albert Banks rubbed his hip as he stood by the kettle.
“It’s arthritis,” he said. “I’ve been sitting still for too long. Can I get you a drink?” He nodded to the kettle, and without waiting for an answer, grabbed two mugs from the cupboard by his head.
“Thank you. I’d love a cup of tea.”
As Albert Banks set about making the tea, Mackinnon took the opportunity to look around the kitchen. It was clean, tidy and well-maintained. The microwave looked new, but there was an ancient-looking radio on the windowsill.
He would reserve judgement until he had seen the man’s television, but usually, if someone was involved in credit card fraud, they often gave the game away by having their home kitted out with the latest gadgets. Of course, that wasn’t reliable one hundred percent of the time, but it was a good indication.
Mr Banks handed Mackinnon his tea. “I’ve added milk, but I hope you don’t take sugar because I don’t have any.”
Mackinnon shook his head. “I don’t, thank you.”
“Do you mind if we sit in the front room. I have been suffering with my hip today.”
“Not at all.”
Albert Banks led the way into the sitting room. There was a three-seater, patterned sofa under the window and a single armchair in front of the TV. A large dresser was set against one wall, which dominated the small room. The door that led out onto the balcony gave a perfect view of the concrete block opposite. The television was large, but it wasn’t the latest model by any means. Mackinnon guessed it was at least a couple of years old. Albert Banks reached for the remote control and muted the television.
“Did you find the person who stole my card?” Mr Banks asked, although from the scowl on his face, Mackinnon guessed he already knew the answer to that question.
“I’m afraid we haven’t yet,” Mackinnon said. “Credit card fraud is becoming more common, and although city police are trying to crack down on it, the people involved can be incredibly sneaky.” Without giving Albert Banks a chance to reply, Mackinnon started to ask his questions. “According to our reports, the credit card was stolen on the twenty-fifth of April. Is that correct?”
Mr Banks thought for a moment and then said. “That was when I reported it missing. To be honest, I usually use my debit card, and I hadn’t needed to use it for a while. It could have been missing for a little while before I noticed.”
“How long is a little while?”
Albert Banks bristled and looked offended.
“I don’t like the way you seem to be inferring that it was my fault. I’m incredibly careful with my cards.”
“I’m not inferring it was your fault,” Mackinnon said and took a sip of his tea. “There was an item purchased with your credit card on the twenty-second of April, and it was delivered to this address.”
Albert Banks opened his mouth and closed it again. “I hope you’re not suggesting I lied about the fact my credit card was stolen?”
“Mr Banks, I’m not suggesting you lied. I’m just trying to find out what happened. Do you know what happened to the items that were ordered on the twenty-second of April and delivered here?”
Albert’s forehead creased in a frown, and he shook his head. “No. The card must’ve been missing by then. But I’m sure nothing was delivered here. I suppose it could have been when I was at work.”
“Do you have a mobile phone?”
Albert nodded. He looked around the sitting room, searching for it. These days, most people knew exactly where their phone was at any time so they could check their messages every five minutes.
He got to his feet gingerly. “Yes, it’s around here somewhere. I don’t really use it very much.”
As he puttered around looking for the phone, Mackinnon continued to question him. But as more time passed, the more Mackinnon was convinced Albert Banks had absolutely nothing to do with this abduction. Either that or he was a very good actor.
“Ah, here it is,” Albert Banks said, grinning broadly as he opened a drawer in the large dresser and pulled out a brick-sized mobile phone. It had to be at least ten years old. It didn’t even have a colour screen.
Mackinnon drained the rest of his tea and got to his feet. “Thank you very much, Mr Banks. You’ve been very helpful. We believe the people who stole your credit card are involved in another crime, and hopefully, we will be able to track them down soon. We’ll be in touch.”
Albert Banks’ face brightened. “Oh, that is good news. I mean, the credit card company were very good about it and refunded my money, but the worst thing is the stress of it all, the thought of somebody using my identity online. I’m glad you haven’t given up on it.”
He led Mackinnon out and then waved him off cheerfully.
Mackinnon wished there was more they could do about credit card fraud. Although City Police led the country in their drive to tackle cybercrime, sometimes it seemed as though the culprits were always one step ahead.
Chapter 26
Mackinnon was halfway back to the station when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and saw that it was DI Tyler.
“Mackinnon.”
“Jack, I’m heading to the Watsons’ now. I’m going to talk to them and emphasise how important it is they don’t leave the apartment. I don’t want them replying to any text messages without telling us about them first. I’d like you to go and speak to the George family and make sure they understand that, too.”
“Not a pr
oblem,” Mackinnon said, turning around. “I’ll head over there now. What do you want to do about Glenn Calvert? He’s relatively new at this, and I imagine today’s been pretty stressful for him. Is there an FLO taking over from him.”
“We’re pretty stretched at the moment. I was hoping he would be able to stay with the family tonight, but have a word with him. If he’s not happy, I will sort something out. Let me know how you get on.”
“Will do,” Mackinnon said and hung up, slipping the phone back in his pocket.
It was a warm day, and most residents in the area had their windows open so Mackinnon could hear music and the noise from televisions as he walked back towards the Towers Estate.
He used to live in a flat in London, and he had been used to the almost constant noise. Even at night, there was still a background hum of activity. In Oxford, it was different. The first few nights he’d stayed at Chloe’s he hadn’t slept well, and at first, he hadn’t been able to figure out why.
He’d lain awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, and finally realised it was because it was so damn quiet. He just wasn’t used to it.
He’d grown accustomed to it now, though, and occasionally found the constant buzz of London annoying. Still, he supposed he got to experience the best sides of both. When he was in London, he stayed with his friend Derek, in Hackney, and got to work in the city. When he was in Oxford, he had a more relaxed pace of life. It wasn’t all Inspector Morse and punting down the river, but it was definitely a gentler pace of life, more peaceful.
He reached the Georges’ building and headed up the stairs. He knocked on the front door and within seconds Glenn Calvert answered. He looked stressed.
“Everything okay, Glenn?”
Glenn wasn’t able to meet his eye. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I had no idea she’d left, and I know that’s ridiculous. I should have kept a closer eye on her.”
“Glenn, these things happen. Claire Watson left her apartment without being seen as well. We just need to keep a close eye on the parents now. If another text message comes in, we need to know about it.”