Chapter Thirty-Eight
Magee made his excuses and left the Royal Thai Embassy, along with Melissa, to walk the half-mile back to McAlister's house.
Once out of earshot of the Embassy, Melissa asked, ‘What on earth was all that about, sir? Why are you conspiring with the Ambassador not to pursue the Cultural Attaché? Why aren’t you willing to make this new information public? I don’t understand half of what’s going on.’
‘I'm sorry, Melissa. It's part of a very long story. And, as you can see, it's getting rather complicated. You really are best out of it.’
Melissa gave a snort. ‘You can say that again! But I'm still interested.’
Magee felt a desperate need to confide in someone. ‘I saw the Home Secretary the other day. I promised him I'd contain the problem and not let any more details get to the press. There could be a huge scandal if it does. It could bring the government to its knees,’
‘Why? How could a murder case possibly do that?’
‘Well, you see, Melissa, after McAlister, the next victim is Geoffrey Rees Smith, the Home Secretary.’
‘Oh dear god! How on earth did you find that out?’
‘He’s in the photograph too. I confronted him, told him of my theories on the case. He pulled a gun on me, threatened to kill me. That seemed to confirm I was right.’
‘Wow!’
‘Exactly. That little episode is not something the press should get to hear about. You may need to know about these things, but you really do need to be discrete and keep your mouth shut. It could be dangerous to talk to anyone else.’
‘I won’t talk, sir.’
‘Good. You see, if other people find out that you know, well, you may become expendable.’ He looked at Melissa knowingly. ‘Do you know what that implies?’
‘Yes, sir, I do. You don't have to elaborate. Just don't tell me any more please. I talk in my sleep.’
‘Well don't,’ Magee said with sincerity. ‘Whoever sleeps with you might become expendable as well!’
‘Oh god, this just gets worse.’
‘Precisely, Melissa. I’m sorry for scaring you, but you've got to realize the seriousness of the situation.’
‘You've convinced me. Who else knows?’
‘Just the remaining five men in the photograph, along with Paul Mansell and the Ambassador. A very tight knit little group, and the numbers are dropping daily. Sorry to involve you. Just don't involve anyone else.’
‘No problem there, sir. I won't talk. I rather enjoy my life. I don't want to die yet.’
‘Nor do I, so let's keep it that way. Anyway, no more talk about it, we’re within earshot of the others now. Let’s wander round to see what’s being going on in our absence.’
The first three lookouts reported nothing new. The last had, what he thought to be anyway, precisely the information Magee was searching for.
‘I've spotted him for you, sir.’ The officer said as Magee drew near.
‘I’m sorry. Spotted who?’
‘Your spy, sir.’
‘My spy?’
‘Yes, sir. Melissa said you wanted us to keep an eye open for someone watching us. I've found him for you.’
Magee and Melissa stared at each other in bewilderment. ‘But we just . . .’ Melissa let the sentence trail off. ‘Didn't we?’
‘Just where is this spy of yours?’
‘Over the road, sir. Second house down on the right. He's up in the attic room. The lights are off but someone’s in there. The curtain is drawn back a fraction every now and then. The movement is not easy to spot. He's doing well by not drawing any attention. I reckon he's a pro. I only chanced upon him by accident. I was, erm, daydreaming and staring up that way.’
‘Okay.’ Magee wasn’t sure whether to congratulate the man or reprimand him. ‘Stay here, we'll look into it.’
As Magee walked over to the front door of the house indicated, a thought struck him. ‘Melissa, this may be him. The murderer, that is.’
‘The Cultural Attaché?’
‘Could be.’
‘The one we can’t touch.’
‘The same.’
‘What are we going to do then?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest. We’ll just have to improvise. Be prepared for anything,’ Magee said, as he pushed a bell button. A middle aged plump woman bubbling with life opened the door promptly.
‘Good evening, madam. We're police officers,’ Magee said holding up his warrant card. ‘I'm Detective Chief Inspector Magee, this is Detective Sergeant Kelly. May we have a word, please?’
‘Oh! Yes, of course. Please come in, won't you?’
‘Thank you,’ Magee replied. He followed the woman into her ground floor apartment. ‘Is the whole house partitioned off into flats?’
‘Yes. You’re quite right, Chief Inspector. Why?’
‘Do you know who the tenant up the top is?’
‘Right at the top? Which side?’
‘On the front right as you face the house.’
‘That's young Miss Virginia's flat.’
‘And who is she?’
‘Well, I believe she's an accountant. She works in the City, in Puddledock I think she told me once. Lovely name that, isn’t it?’
‘It is, though I’m more familiar with the Kent hamlet of the same name.’
‘Really, I didn’t know there was one. Where is it?’
‘Not far from Westerham. Near Chartwell, Churchill’s house.’
‘Good lord. You learn something new every day.’
‘You do indeed,’ Magee muttered. He decided social pleasantries were over. ‘Is she in? Miss Virginia, that is?’
‘I'm not sure. I haven't seen her for a couple of days. Maybe she went off for the weekend. She has many friends in the country. Part of the in-crowd, you see.’
‘Does she live alone?’
‘Of course, Chief Inspector! She's not that sort of girl.’
‘I meant does she share with a girlfriend, a flat mate?’
‘Oh, I see. No. No, she doesn't.’
‘Nevertheless, there is someone up there now, madam. I'd like to investigate, if you don't mind.’
‘Not at all, feel free.’
‘I don’t suppose you have a spare key by any chance?’
‘Well, yes, I do, as it happens. I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but it’s for emergencies. Is she in danger?’
‘Maybe, I don't know, to be honest. But it appears someone is in her flat, acting very suspiciously.’
‘Very well then. But don't tell anyone about the spare key will you?’
‘Of course not.’
Rather apprehensively, Magee and Melissa crept up the stairs. He whispered, ‘If this Miss Virginia hasn't been seen for a few days, then she may be trapped in there now.’
‘Held hostage, you mean? Shouldn’t we call in then?’
‘Probably, but I don’t think Rees Smith would appreciate it.’
‘I don’t like that man,’ Melissa responded, ‘even though I’ve never met him.’
‘Keep it that way. He’s obnoxious.’
‘What if she’s bound and gagged? Maybe there’s a group of them in there?’
Magee thought about the potential danger. Who else could it be, he thought, except the murderer? Perhaps he should have come armed.
They stopped outside the apartment, one either side of the door, up against the wall. Magee gave a firm knock. There was no response. He tried again. No response. He inserted the key into the door and turned the handle. The door jerked to a stop within two inches. The chain was on, the lights off, but someone must be inside. Magee looked at Melissa and grimaced.
‘Police!’ Magee said reasonably quietly, but firmly, from his position of safety behind the door. There was no response. ‘Open up now, please. I'll kick the door down if you don't.’
‘What is your name?’ The words were delivered by a firm, manly voice the other side of the door.
‘Detective Chief Inspector J
ack Magee. I'm with Detective Sergeant Melissa Kelly.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want to know where Miss Virginia is, the occupant of this flat. I also want to know why you're spying out of the window on what we’re doing down below.’
‘We’re guests of Miss Virginia. She gave us a key, we are not trespassing. You have no right to enter these premises.’
‘You’re acting suspiciously with the lights off. I’m not leaving until I check the flat.’
It was several seconds before an answer came. ‘Please ask DS Kelly to go away,’ the voice demanded.
Magee sighed. ‘I can't do that. DS Kelly stays here with me.’
‘Chief Inspector, listen to me. I will talk to you, but to you alone.’
‘Shit!’ Magee hissed under his breath. He looked over at Melissa who merely shrugged her shoulders. ‘Tell me who you are first.’ Magee prayed that it wasn't the Cultural Attaché.
‘Yesterday, at about eleven thirty in the morning, you made a promise to someone. Do you recall what that was about?’
‘What the heck? Who’s in there? No one could possibly know about that promise.’
‘Well I do! And I must remind you of it. To keep that promise secure, please send DS Kelly away, out of earshot.’
Magee screwed his eyes shut. It could only be Rees Smith in there, but why? Magee nodded at Melissa, indicating her to leave. ‘Okay, Sergeant Kelly's gone downstairs. Now will you open up please?’
The door creaked open slowly. Magee walked into the darkened room and the door was abruptly closed behind him. A small lamp was turned on, which lit up three men dressed casually standing alongside a variety of cameras and binoculars. None of the men was Rees Smith.
Magee cursed and asked, ‘Who the hell are you lot?’
‘Brigadier Bernard Armstrong. My card, Chief Inspector.’ Brigadier Armstrong handed over a non-descript card. ‘These men work for me, their names are not relevant.’
Magee read the card, bewildered. ‘Can you explain what's going on, please? I really don't understand what you’re doing here.’
‘Of course, Chief Inspector. After all, you are up to your eyes in this.’
‘Up to my eyes?’ Magee repeated. ‘I’m sorry, am I missing something here?’
‘Are you saying you’re not involved with our dear friend Geoffrey Rees Smith in a conspiracy to pervert the course of justice?’
‘No, not at all. How dare you insinuate such a thing!’
‘I must warn you, Chief Inspector, that I listened to your conversation yesterday. I have video tapes as well, so you won’t be able to deny anything.’
Magee frowned in puzzlement. ‘Just a second, Brigadier, you seem to be accusing me of some criminal activity.’
‘You said it, Chief Inspector.’
‘I think we have our wires crossed here. I’m involved in nothing illegal.’
‘It didn’t sound like it during your meeting with Rees Smith yesterday.’
Magee scratched the back of his neck and gave a moment’s thought to how the conversation might appear to an outsider. ‘Can we discuss this? I think there are aspects of the case you may not be aware of.’
‘By all means, Chief Inspector. Take a seat, I do like a good chat.’
Magee sat down and rubbed his chin, wondering where to start. He decided to begin with the photograph. He extracted a copy from his jacket pocket. ‘Have you seen this photo before, Brigadier?’
Brigadier Armstrong studied it for a few seconds. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Do you recognize anyone in it?’
‘McAlister and Rees Smith, in their early days by the look of it. What’s this about?’
‘This photograph was taken in Bangkok eighteen years ago. Shortly afterwards, these men got involved in some sort of heist. I’m not sure what, no one will tell me, but I believe it involves Tibet and I believe several people were killed, murdered by Rees Smith himself is my guess. Anyway, the point is they were obviously successful because they returned home multi-millionaires.’
‘The source of McAlister’s and Rees Smith’s fortunes?’
‘And the reason they fell out with each other.’
‘Hmm,’ Brigadier Armstrong murmured. ‘Interesting. Do you know what happened?’
‘No. Not yet. But I will find out, eventually. I always get there in the end.’
‘That’s important to you?’
‘Indeed it is, sir. You see, this photo is closely connected to the recent series of murders I’m investigating in Brighton. Todd Conners, Mike Harwood, Robert Harrison and Ronald Nelson are in this photograph and were all victims. Another would have been a victim had he not been dead already. We know that because his mother got a message recently making that very clear. Whoever is killing these men off is doing it in accordance with the seating plan in this photo. I therefore know that Des McAlister is next. Then it’s Rees Smith’s turn.’
One of Brigadier Armstrong’s eyebrows raised. ‘Good Lord!’ he responded.
‘I was suspended from duty last week for being too keen, and an idiot called Inspector Jackson took over the case. However, it seems the murderer wanted me back on the case so he deliberately set up a red herring at the last murder scene to make Jackson look a fool. I was able to use that as a weapon against Rees Smith to get my job back. All I want to do is solve this murder case and keep my status in the Force. Unfortunately, I’ve upset a few people along the way. Like Rees Smith, for instance, since I’ve accused him of being involved in something pretty ugly.’
‘Why does the murderer want you on the case?’
‘I don’t know, sir, although I have a suspicion.’
‘Which is?’
‘Well, it’s just a hunch, based on what I know about the remaining men in the photo. To start with, the main character in all this is Nick Price. That’s him down on the bottom right hand side of the photo. It was his bar in Bangkok where this photo was taken, but he’s now a wealthy property developer living down near Brighton.’
Brigadier Armstrong nodded sagely. ‘I thought so. Rees Smith suspects him, I believe. He instructed me to put Nick Price under surveillance last week.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. He is involved, although his involvement may just be peripheral since he seems to be an okay sort of person, a family man. But I can’t rule him out. He’s a sick man, he suffers terribly from guilt over the death of his wife. I know him from the past, in our teenage years. He’s quite capable of murder and I get the odd glimpse of him as a man who may be mentally unbalanced.’
‘Rees Smith is right then? Nick Price is the main suspect?’
‘It’s not that clear cut, sir. There are several others on my list. Equally probable, I should think.’
Brigadier Armstrong reached for a pen and notepad that were sitting on an adjacent coffee table. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Well, there’s Sean Fitzpatrick, an old acquaintance of Nick Price. He’s in the photograph. He seems to have blown all the money from the heist. I’m told he’s nothing more than a dosser these days, getting drunk frequently, ranting in bitterness about his ex-wives. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but such a character could well be trying to blackmail the others.’
Brigadier Armstrong took a pause from writing and said, ‘Do you know who John Mansell is?’
‘Yes I do, sort of. He’s in that photo as well. He was an intimate friend of Nick Price and jointly owned the bar with Nick. But he seems to have disappeared years ago, so I’ve not been able to make contact. I’m more familiar with his younger brother, Paul. Nick took Paul under his wing after he became a mixed-up sixteen year old hell-raiser. It seems that the murderer has been using Paul; he’s tried to frame him in three of the murders so far.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly out of hatred for John, but that’s just conjecture.’
‘So your hunch with the murderer is what, precisely?’
‘Well, no one seems to know wh
ere John Mansell is, so I reckon the murderer can’t find him either. I believe he wants me to do his dirty work for him. I reckon he’s hoping I’ll track down John Mansell.’
‘Interesting idea. Rees Smith asked me to trace him too. I’ve certainly had no luck.’
‘Also, I think the murderer’s using me to flush the others out into the open so he can pick them off more easily. That’s why I’m here now. We’ve been scanning the surroundings, looking out rather than looking in.’
‘Very interesting, Chief Inspector. And just who do you suspect of being the murderer?’
‘I have an even longer list of possibilities.’
‘I’d like to know them.’
‘First, there’s Rees Smith. Now he’s in a prominent position in the government, he’s vulnerable. His history could catch up with him. Maybe someone is blackmailing him. Best thing is if he kills them all off.’
‘Including you, I take it?’
‘Yes indeed, sir. I got rather carried away yesterday. I was under threat of losing my job, my pension, everything I’ve ever worked for, and all because of something Rees Smith did in his youth. I threatened him with exposure. If you know about our meeting, you probably know what happened next.’
‘He pulled a gun on you.’
‘Precisely, sir. And I think he was fully prepared to use it. He’ll do something very silly, very soon, I fear. Even if he isn’t the murderer, he might become a murderer to stay on top of the situation.’
‘You’ve thought this through well, Chief Inspector. Who are your other suspects?’
‘Well, first of all, we have to determine motive. Revenge is most likely. Several people got killed eighteen years ago, so the murderer is probably taking his revenge for someone who died.’
‘And those possibilities are?’
‘Nick Price, since he lost his wife, Maliwan. I’m pretty sure she was killed in the heist itself, and I have the impression it was Rees Smith that killed her. Anyway, Nick Price is still extraordinarily distraught about her death, even now.’
‘I see. Grief is certainly a powerful emotion. Next?’
‘Nick Price has two children. Somsuk and Nittaya. They must be suspects as well, since they lost their mother along with her twin brother, their uncle, at the same time. Family revenge there, of course.’
‘Any others?’
‘Paul Mansell. I’m not convinced of his innocence despite the fact that I believe he really had been set up. His brother, John, walked out on him when he was just three years old. He’s still very cut up about that. There’s been no indication that John’s alive, maybe he died in the heist, or was caught and imprisoned in some Bangkok hellhole. Paul might know the truth and be avenging his brother.’
‘No others, I hope?’
‘I’m afraid there are, sir. There’s something running alongside this murder business, something I can’t quite yet put together.’
‘Please elucidate.’
‘All the victims have been killed with daggers that have an ivory handle carved in the shape of a Buddha. There is an historical connection here; Thai people used them against Japanese soldiers during the war to take revenge for rape.’
‘How on earth does that fit in?’
‘I think the murderer is a Thai national. I think he’s trying to murder everyone in the photograph.’
‘So that means the murderer is a different party entirely.’
‘Sort of, sir. Obviously not someone in the photo, but he’s certainly still very much connected with the photo.’
‘Could it be a she instead of a he? What about the girl in the photo?’
‘The girl is Nick Price’s wife, Maliwan. As I said, she’s dead.’
‘Ah!’
‘Nevertheless, sir. I believe she’s a very large part of the jigsaw.’
‘How?’
‘It’s a gut feeling. This photo is relevant to the heist, and she, I believe, was killed over greed. Someone wants to settle old scores.’
‘How does she fit in with your mystery man then?’
‘Ah, that’s the problem, sir. Nick Price won’t talk about other people involved in the heist. All he says is that they’re dead.’
‘So we’re either dealing with a ghost, someone they’ve all forgotten existed, or someone that was presumed to be dead?’
‘Exactly, sir. That’s why I need to know the story behind the photo. I need to examine the evidence, rather than get bogged down with the emotion of it all.’
‘McAlister and Rees Smith? Won’t they help?’
‘Hah! They’ve both said they’d prefer to die rather than let the truth be known.’
‘You’re caught up in a real hornet’s nest, aren’t you, Magee?’
‘I certainly am, sir. And my boss, Superintendent Vaughan, doesn’t know about it.’
‘You’re going to have to proceed very carefully, Magee. And alone, unsupported, I expect.’
‘Indeed, sir, but I have to say it’s rather nice unburdening this lot onto you. I don’t feel so alone now.’
‘Hmm.’ Brigadier Armstrong drummed his fingers on his knee. ‘You know something, Magee, I think we could help each other out. You see, I’m involved in the case from the National Security point of view.’
‘Guarding the Home Secretary?’
‘Yes and no. My brief certainly requires me to protect the Office of the Home Secretary, but as to the man, well, he does seem to have a rather chequered past, or so it’s emerging. The man could easily overstep the mark, in terms of carrying out the duties of his office.’
Magee was astonished. ‘You’re implying he’s expendable?’
Brigadier Armstrong rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘I’m afraid so, yes. He’s dug his own grave, politically and maybe even physically as well. Whatever he did in Bangkok has come back to haunt him with a vengeance. It would be extremely difficult to stop the truth coming out now. When it does surface, he’ll be lucky to get away with a simple resignation. If he committed a serious crime, even one committed abroad eighteen years ago, the press will crucify him.’
‘So you’ve been tagging along, watching from a distance, hoping maybe that things will sort themselves out nicely?’
‘You never know, Magee. You just never know. However, I won’t leave things to chance, I’ll be there waiting to make a move if things don’t go the right way.’
‘You mean you want the murderer to succeed?’
‘No. Not necessarily, Magee. I’d be quite happy for the murderer to be killed, and for the Home Secretary to live. Provided the story stops there, of course. No leaks, no Sunday newspaper interviews, no memoirs published.’
Magee sighed deep. ‘Rees Smith just got too greedy, I suppose. Wasn’t content with wealth alone, he wanted the power that could be bought with it, didn’t he?’
‘Power corrupts absolutely. Rees Smith could have had a life of luxury, somewhere quiet and low key. Instead, he craved a life centre stage. He’s paying for that decision now.’
‘If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to try to stop this madness. It is my duty, after all.’
‘Of course, Magee. I don’t mean to belittle your position. You come across as a good police officer. I apologize unreservedly, I assessed you incorrectly. You’d better be getting back to your troops. Good luck.’
‘Thank you sir.’ Magee got up from the sofa. ‘Well, I’ve no doubt we’ll be seeing each other again.’
Magee left Brigadier Armstrong to his task and meandered slowly back to the street wishing he’d simply stayed in bed for the day. A completely new perspective had been added to the case. Who could make decisions concerning the fate of a Home Secretary? The Prime Minister? Brigadier Armstrong himself? Did the man have that much power? Who the hell was the Brigadier anyway?
Magee felt that he was losing his grip on reality. It felt like the world was going mad. All this business with politicians, ambassadors and intelligence service officers was just too much to get his head around.
&nbs
p; ‘You certainly took your time, sir,’ Melissa said when Magee came up alongside her. ‘What was that all about upstairs?’
Magee shook his head. ‘You don’t want to know, Melissa. Forget it happened. I feel as though a large hammer has just pummelled my brain. I wouldn’t want you feeling the same way. Someone has to keep a level head. This case is getting far too complicated for my liking.’
‘A problem shared?’
‘Is a problem doubled in this case. Whatever happened to simple straightforward murders? That’s what I want to know.’
‘Fancy a drink? There’s a pub down the bottom.’
‘We shouldn’t really,’ Magee protested half-heartedly as Melissa slipped an arm under his and gently steered him down the road.
‘Come on, one drink won’t hurt.’
Magee felt a headache coming on. ‘Will you visit me in hospital, Melissa? I think I’m losing my sanity. This case is really getting to me.’