Chapter Twenty-Five
Magee placed a handkerchief over the telephone’s mouthpiece, cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone, ‘Melissa, is that you?’
‘It is,’ Melissa replied. ‘And that phony voice wouldn’t fool anyone.’
Magee coughed, and reverted to his normal voice. ‘Sorry, I’m not very good at deceit.’
‘How’re things going?’
‘Fine, thanks, but I need your help.’
‘You’ve got it of course, sir, but I can’t risk getting caught doing anything for you. Jackson would fire me on the spot, and I don’t think even my uncle would help me out of that mess either. You’re not exactly flavour of the month around here.’
‘I understand. You’ll have to do it covertly.’
‘Covertly? Ooh! That sounds fun.’
‘You’re in a good mood.’
‘Hmm, Jackson’s off kissing ass somewhere. It’s giving us a break. How can I help?’
‘I need to know anything that happens, immediately.’
‘That won’t be so easy.’
‘You’ll manage.’
‘How are you doing, with your own digging that is?’
‘It’s coming on fine, Melissa. Look, don’t tell anyone this, but I’ve got a photograph showing all the remaining victims.’
‘What! How?’
‘Never mind that. The important thing is that the photo contains ten men, of which four are our known victims.’
‘Four? But we only have three.’
‘Keith Gibson would have been number four. He died a few years ago, but his mother was sent a wreath wrapped around one of our Avenging Buddha knives the other day. The message was pretty clear.’
‘How nice.’
‘Quite. Anyway. I’ve identified three of the remaining targets.’
‘How did you do that?’
‘Easy, I recognized two faces in the photo, Nick Price and someone who turned out to be Paul Mansell’s older brother John. The third is an old school friend of Nick’s, one Sean Fitzpatrick.’
‘Nick?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You said “Nick”. It’s usually just “Price”. What happened to the normal derogatory tone in which you spit out his name?’
Magee’s nose twitched a fraction. ‘I may have misjudged him. He’s actually an okay sort of bloke, albeit a bit rough around the edges.’
‘Dear god, I just saw a pig flying past the window!’
‘Hah, hah!’ Magee muttered. ‘All right, I admit I may have been wrong about him in the past. Anyway, the point is, although he’s on the hit list, he doesn’t know why. He says it doesn’t make sense to him. So, if it doesn’t make sense to him, it probably won’t be any easier for us. We’ve obviously got some hard work ahead. And, as you’re finding out, Jackson isn’t up to a challenge like that. He could only solve a case if clues jumped up and slapped him in the face.’
‘We’re certainly finding that out the hard way. He’s got some pretty stupid theories.’
‘Try not to let him bother you. Focus on facts, and let me have them as soon as you can.’
‘You want me to join in with the conspiracy?’
‘I do indeed. I’ll catch up with you later. Bye for now.’
As Magee put the telephone receiver down, he reflected on DS Kelley’s choice of words. Conspiracy was a very apt term. There was certainly a conspiracy amongst the victims. But why?