Next I call my mother and my sister Evie. Neither answers, which is a relief, really. I leave messages for them saying my phone’s been stolen, but they’re not to worry and I’ll be in touch with a new number soon. Notifying other people will have to wait.
Then I call Tideways, hoping Joe might be there. But Hazel, who answers, says he isn’t. And she doesn’t have his number. Or Karen’s. She suggests I ask Liz, though she’s not sure how easy it is to speak to her at the hospital.
I’m not even going to try. I need to move and be doing something, so I decide to head for Falmouth. But something deters me from driving there, some half-formed fear that Scaddan will follow me and force me off the road somewhere between here and the King Harry ferry. I opt for the passenger ferry instead. There’s safety in numbers.
Onboard, everyone else looks relaxed and carefree. I don’t feel either. I can’t fit what’s happening into a pattern I understand. Everything’s confused. Nothing’s certain.
When the ferry reaches Prince of Wales Pier, I’m first off. I check Bean Feast, but Karen has the day off, just like Joe said. From there I hurry round to Jacob’s Ladder and climb the long flight of steps up to Waterloo Road.
As I pant along towards number 13, I see a police car ahead of me, stationary in the middle of the road between the rows of parked vehicles. There are a couple of officers on the pavement. One of them’s escorting a man to the car. I suddenly realize it’s Joe. He doesn’t see me. He looks straight ahead, head bowed.
The policeman checks he doesn’t bang his head as he loads him into the back of the car. Then he jumps in the front and they pull away. Another car, parked at the kerbside, with no police markings, pulls out and follows. They turn right at the corner and are out of my sight.
When I reach number 13, I see Karen standing in the gateway that leads to the yard at the back of the house. She’s wearing jeans and trainers, but above the waist what looks like a pyjama jacket. She’s talking animatedly on her phone. When she spots me, she grimaces.
‘I basically don’t know what to do,’ I hear her say as I approach. She holds up a hand, stalling me. ‘Yeah. If you can … OK … It’s all crazy stuff, but … Exactly … OK … Yeah … Anyone you recommend … I’ll wait to hear … OK. ’Bye for now.’
She rings off. Her face is grey and tight with tension. ‘What’s happened?’ is all I can ask.
‘Joe’s been arrested,’ she says numbly.
‘Arrested?’
‘Well, taken in for questioning. But if he hadn’t gone they would’ve arrested him. The plain clothes guy was very clear about that.’
‘On what charge?’
‘Dunno exactly. Involvement in tax evasion and money laundering, I think the detective said. It didn’t make any sense. It’s something to do with Conrad Vogler, though. I do know that. The detective mentioned him.’ Karen shakes her head. She looks close to tears. ‘Joe should never have worked for that guy. I wanted him to quit. But … he enjoyed what Vogler had him doing and …’
‘He was good at it?’
‘This is all to do with you somehow, isn’t it?’ Anger flares suddenly in her eyes. ‘If you hadn’t come down here looking for Joe …’
‘I’ve been trying to get Joe away from Vogler, Karen. This is the last thing I’d have wanted to happen.’
‘Why are you here now, then? How come you turn up just as the police take him away?’
‘I came to check if our meeting with Joe this morning was still going ahead.’
‘Well, it isn’t now, is it?’
‘No. Obviously. But—’
‘Anyway, why didn’t you just phone?’
‘My phone’s … broken. I … dropped it in the bath.’
Karen looks at me as if she doesn’t believe me. I can’t really blame her.
‘And I can’t seem to contact Carl.’
‘Your boss from Venstrom?’
‘Yes. That’s him.’
‘What d’you mean you can’t contact him?’
I shrug helplessly. ‘Just that.’
‘Aren’t you staying in the same hotel?’
‘He’s disappeared, Karen, if you want to know the truth. I’ve no idea where he is. That’s one of the reasons I came here. I thought Joe might have heard from him.’
‘No. There’s been nothing.’ She frowns. ‘This is all getting seriously weird. Your boss isn’t the only one who’s suddenly hard to find. When he realized the police meant to take him in, Joe told me to phone Duncan and get his advice on what to do.’
‘Duncan Forrester?’
‘Yeah. Joe trusts him. Anyway, Duncan wasn’t answering his mobile, so I phoned Tideways. Hazel said he’d gone away for a few days. No idea where or why. And this is a guy who never normally goes anywhere.’
‘Who were you speaking to just now?’
‘Roger Lam. I reckoned he was the next best bloke to try. He said he’d see what he could find out. Ask some of his uni contacts if they know a solicitor who can get the police to drop all this money laundering crap. I mean, Joe isn’t a criminal. They must be able to see that.’
‘They’re probably just trying to build a case against Vogler.’ It’s the most optimistic thought that’s come to me.
‘That’s what Rog said. Christ, I hope you’re both right. Joe and me were supposed to be visiting Liz this afternoon. What am I going to say to her?’
‘Maybe you should wait to hear more from Roger.’
‘Wait? You say that like it’s easy to do.’
‘I know it’s not, Karen.’ I want to hug her, but I’m afraid she’ll burst into tears. ‘Look, why don’t I call Roger and see if he and I can make any sense of this?’
‘OK. Why not?’
‘Can I use your phone?’
‘Sure.’ She hands it over. ‘His number’s logged in. I’ll go and finish getting dressed.’
She turns and walks through to the rear of the house, heading for her flat. There’s an anxious slump to her shoulders I haven’t seen before.
I walk out on to the pavement and dial Roger’s number. He picks up straight away. ‘Sorry, Karen, I haven’t—’
‘It’s not Karen, Roger. This is Nicole. I’ve borrowed her phone.’
‘Nicole? Are you with her? She should have said.’
‘I’ve only just got here. I was in time to see Joe being driven away, but not in time to speak to him.’
‘This is a terrible shock for Joe and Karen, obviously, and a serious problem for you and Carl, but—’
‘Have you heard from Carl?’
‘Me? No. Why …’
‘I’m having trouble tracking him down.’
‘Really? I thought you were staying at the same hotel.’
I can’t let myself get sucked into explaining about Carl going missing, so I change tack. ‘Apparently you told Karen you thought this might be more about Vogler than Joe.’
‘Well, it probably is. Vogler’s obviously a crook. In fact …’
‘What?’
‘It’s likely the police have already arrested him. Or tried to. They’ll need to get on with searching his house before he has a chance to destroy any evidence. With any luck, they just see Joe as their most valuable witness.’
‘How can we find out if that’s really the way their minds are working?’
‘Well, I was thinking of going over to St Mawes and seeing if there’s a police presence at the Vogler house. I’m hoping to get a call back from a solicitor who’s been recommended to me before too long, but meanwhile I may as well check out the lie of the land over there.’ He pauses, then says, ‘Want to come along?’
I agree to go with Roger only partly because checking out Admiral’s Reach is the most logical thing to do. The other part is all to do with my state of mind. I still don’t have any sense of being in control of events and, right now, I reckon it’s safer to spend as little time as possible on my own.
When I go up to the flat, I find the door open. Karen’s sitting on the
edge of the couch, staring into space. She hasn’t actually finished dressing, as she said she would. She’s still wearing the pyjama top. She nods faintly as I lay her phone on the cushion beside her.
‘I have to go, Karen,’ I say, feeling bad about leaving her as she is but seeing no alternative.
‘It’s OK,’ she responds in a distant voice.
‘Roger’s on the track of a good solicitor. There’s every chance the police just want to pump Joe for information they can use against Vogler.’
‘Hope so.’
‘This is going to turn out all right, Karen, I know it is.’
She looks at me with dismal scepticism. ‘You don’t know any such thing. And neither do I.’
I leave Karen’s flat in a hurry. I reckon I’ve just about got time to buy a basic pay-as-you-go phone before I head for the ferry to meet Roger. On my way towards the top of Jacob’s Ladder, though, I see Duncan Forrester’s car coming slowly round the corner from the next street. For a moment, I wonder if there’s been some misunderstanding and he hasn’t left town after all. I step into the road and flag him down.
But, as he pulls in, I see the driver isn’t Forrester, though he does look quite like him, only a bit thinner and balder. He winds down the window and frowns at me. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Sorry. I thought you were Duncan.’
‘Are you a pupil of his?’
‘No. Just … a friend. D’you know where he is?’
‘Nah. I’m just covering his lessons for him. He calls me in from time to time. He’s out of town. That’s all I know.’
‘How long for?’
‘A few days, he said, maybe longer. Not an easy bloke to pin down, Dunc, if you know what I mean. But the money’s useful, so I’m not complaining. Now, I’d better be moving. There’s a nervous learner waiting for me round the corner.’
With that, and a leery grin, he drives on.
Roger’s waiting for me on the pier. There’s something in his smile that radiates confidence. And God knows I need an infusion of that at the moment.
‘I’ve heard from the solicitor,’ he announces after kissing me lightly on the cheek. ‘Nick Brown. From Truro. He says he’ll contact the police right away and have them ask Joe if he’s happy to be represented by him on my recommendation. I imagine Joe will agree.’
‘Venstrom will cover the cost,’ I assure him.
‘Thanks. I thought you’d say that. Well, hoped, I suppose. Now, look, when I sketched out the circumstances for him, Brown’s first thought was the same as ours. The police are probably trying to frighten Joe into giving them evidence to use against Vogler. If he does, he’ll be in the clear. And there’s really no reason why he shouldn’t, is there?’
‘Misguided loyalty, maybe?’
‘Brown should be able to talk him out of that. Meanwhile, what’s with Carl? How can you have lost touch with him?’
My answer takes us past the arrival and departure of the ferry. It’s chilly out on the water and, positioning ourselves in the bow, under the wheelhouse, we’re out of earshot of most of the other passengers. I explain Carl decided to drop me from dinner with the Voglers and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. I use the same story to account for the loss of my smartphone as I gave Karen and it comes over more plausibly this time as a goofy accident related to drinking too much over a solitary meal at the hotel.
I’m not exactly sure why I say nothing about my visit to Admiral’s Reach last night. I suppose it’s mostly because an honest account of what happened there would involve admitting to Roger that I planted a bug on Conrad Vogler to help Ursula Kendall build a tax fraud case against him. I haven’t heard a word from Ursula in over twenty-four hours, though it’s possible she has tried to contact me this morning. She, or her superiors, may have told the police to move in on Vogler, which would have led to Joe being picked up. That would begin to make sense of what’s happened to him.
‘Why didn’t Carl want you at the dinner?’ Roger asks as the ferry nears Castle Point.
‘He didn’t think I was sufficiently committed to persuading Joe to take up our offer.’
‘And are you?’
‘I suppose it struck me, during the Go match, that Joe’s entire world is about to change. And maybe those changes won’t be good for him. Maybe living quietly in Falmouth with Karen and playing Go just for fun is the best thing for him. After all, he hasn’t made much effort to do anything else.’
‘What about the good work he could do for humanity?’
‘He’s one person. With one life.’
‘And one world-changing gift.’
‘World-changing?’
‘Joe’s generation is going to have to grapple with the challenge of humankind’s relationship with artificial intelligence, Nicole. The vital question is going to be how we manage AI when it surpasses the intelligence of its creators. If there are humans who can continue to compete with computers beyond that point and Joe’s one of them, well, don’t we have to find out how he does it, whether it can be replicated, whether it can be taught?’
‘You’re saying Joe can’t be left alone? That it’s not up to him?’
Roger shakes his head. ‘Pretty much, yes.’
‘You said yesterday you doubted Venstrom would be allowed to monopolize him.’
‘I don’t think there’s a chance they will be.’
‘So I may as well give up and go home?’
He smiles. ‘Too late for that, I reckon.’
We dock at St Mawes. There’s a relaxed, weekend feel about the place in the milky sunshine. Fathers and sons messing about in boats. Family groups wandering along Marine Parade. Drinkers standing outside the Victory Inn. I feel out of synch with the mood. I only wish I didn’t.
Roger suggests we drive up to Admiral’s Reach. ‘Then we can just cruise by and see what’s going on.’
That makes sense to me, so we walk over to the car park. As we near my car, I see the damage to the rear wing’s worse than I thought. The light’s smashed and there’s quite a dent in the metalwork.
‘How did that happen?’ asks Roger.
‘Oh, I reversed into a wall. Just wasn’t thinking.’
‘Well, you’ve had a lot on your mind.’
There’s no denying that. We get in and I head for the exit.
We’re most of the way there when Roger asks me to stop. He points to an elderly, well-dressed man climbing out of a big old Jag. ‘I ought to have a quick word with him. Retired industrialist. He puts quite a lot of money the university’s way. Including the funding for my visiting lectureship. D’you mind?’
It strikes me he’d never have noticed Roger if we’d just driven on by, but I don’t argue. I pull in a couple of bays away. Roger jumps out and goes over to the man, who greets him warmly. He looks about seventy, three-piece-suited, tall and lean, bowed at the shoulders, with white hair and craggy features. They both smile a lot as they talk.
The conversation goes on longer than I expected. The old guy opens the boot of his car and shows Roger something I can’t see. There are more smiles and a gale of laughter. Then, finally, they’re done.
As Roger heads back towards me, the old guy looks past him and gives me a friendly nod, as if to apologize for holding me up.
‘Sorry about that,’ says Roger as he gets in beside me. ‘He goes on a bit.’
The old guy’s still fussing around in his boot as we drive past. ‘What business was he in?’ I ask.
‘Shipping.’ I pull out of the car park and start threading a path through the pedestrians spilling across the road. ‘Listen, Nicole, do you know where Duncan Forrester’s gone? Karen said he’s left town.’
‘I don’t know any more than that.’
‘Strange fellow.’
‘Is he?’
‘Joe’s always spoken well of him, when he’s spoken of him at all. I get the feeling they have some kind of father–son relationship. Well, Joe never knew his real father, of course. I’ve sometime
s wondered if …’ Roger doesn’t finish the thought. ‘The point is it makes no sense for Duncan Forrester to quit town when Liz is in hospital and Joe needs his help and advice more than at any time in his life.’
‘But nevertheless he’s gone.’
‘Yes he has. Apparently. Did he say anything to you, when you went out to speak to him at Tideways, during the Go match, that would … account for it?’
‘No.’
‘You were gone some time.’
‘He told me Liz had seen someone she recognized near her car before she crashed. Someone who might have tampered with it. A man called Scaddan. Frank Scaddan.’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘Apparently, he used to work for Joe’s dad, Charlie Roberts. So he must have worked for Conrad Vogler as well. And Duncan suspects he still does.’
‘Making him the saboteur. If there was one.’
‘Yes.’
‘All the more baffling then that Duncan should swan off somewhere, leaving Joe at Vogler’s mercy. And Scaddan’s.’
He’s right. It is baffling. Maybe I should tell him now about my ordeal at Admiral’s Reach last night. But still I say nothing. I want to trust Roger, I really do. God knows I need to be able to trust someone in this whole tangle of contradictions. But is he the one? I just can’t be sure.
We’re through the narrowest, most congested part of the village now. I accelerate up the hill, take the bend by the castle and carry on uphill towards Admiral’s Reach.
As we reach the house, I slow to a crawl. There’s nothing behind me, so I pull over and stop.
‘I’ll take a look,’ says Roger. He jumps out and peers down over the boundary hedge, then signals for me to get out too.
There are two police patrol cars and two other saloon cars parked on the drive. I hear a distant crackle of radio communication. The front door of the house is open. We both dodge back out of sight when a uniformed police officer walks out through the door, heading for one of the cars.
We get back into my car and I drive on. It’s as Roger predicted. The police have come for the Voglers as well as Joe. But I strongly suspect they haven’t got them.
‘So,’ says Roger as we head on along Upper Castle Road, ‘the Voglers may very well be under arrest.’ I don’t tell him Marianne for one got out while the going was good. I let him reason away. ‘That’s if they were at home when the police arrived. We don’t know when the police arrived, of course, but it was probably around the same time they picked up Joe. D’you think it’s faintly possible Vogler got wind of what the police were planning and struck some deal with Carl that involved dashing up to London last night and getting your company’s lawyers to give him protection?’
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