He woke up in a heavy sweat, paced around the kitchen while the kettle boiled, and took a couple of painkillers for his vice-like headache. Forcing his attention back from self-analysis and rampant putrefaction within society, to the one and only evident talent of his sad existence, he recovered the hard line between apathy and villainy. Just quite why his immediate focus had shifted from the briefcase to the impending interview with Grimes and Jackson, he couldn’t fathom, but he knew it was not solely the position of the sticking plaster on the latter’s face. He ruffled his greasy hair, as if it would help the headache on its way. The first sip of the strong black tea triggered another infusion – one which competed with the headache. He was breaking one of his very few commandments of detection. ‘If the evidence is solid and the culprit goes free, move on.’ It had to be the responsibility of others to rule the courtroom. That was it, despite many charges faced by these two thugs, proven beyond any doubt in his humble opinion - they had never been convicted of anything other than public order offences. Until now, he had buried his frustration over the corruption which had allowed these people to continue their wanton disregard for the law, or anyone who got in their way. He was aching for them to be found guilty of something which would get them off the street for a few years. He was seeking reinforcement of a rotting rung in a ladder, a platform from which to ascend to a modicum of self-esteem. The painkillers had kicked in and he eventually fell asleep.
Chapter 13
Sunday November 11th 2018
Breakfast started out pleasantly enough, but it was never going to last. When the trading of insults began Mrs Beresford announced she was going for her planned stroll. At first it was all one way, with Vivienne choosing to ignore the cross-examination by her father. Most of it was about the will. When he ran out of patience and declared that he was not going to write any more blank cheques, she exploded.
“Have you ever subjected your own ludicrous lifestyle to the revelations of a microscope, as you do for mine? You make me sick, mostly for the way you treat my mother, but also for your incessant ‘holier than thou’ attitude. You can’t live onshore anymore, because of the monster you have created, yet you delude yourself that it’s all worthwhile. You keep claiming the protection is as much for Mum as it is for you, but you’ve never stopped to ask her what it’s like living in a prison of material luxury, at the expense of all else. I’ve never told you before, but now seems to be as good a time as any – I’ve advised her to leave you on many occasions, to see how you cope with the isolation. Now that I’m widowed and living alone, I will ask her if she wants to come and live with me. Now, in order for you to prepare for your departure, I’m not going to answer any more questions about how your helpless little girl will get by now that her personal bubble has burst. What I will willingly tell you, just so you can pretend to fret even more over my wellbeing, is that I’m going to run Bio-Cure Industries myself for now. No doubt you will say that I’ll run it into the ground, but you may be surprised. So, if you’d like to clear off and leave Mum to spend some time with me, that would be a good start to our new relationship.” He could see some of himself in her at long last, but it was in the wrong arena.
“Vivienne, if this was any old company I’d be doing cartwheels at your belated thirst for responsibility, but you have no idea of how many people there are out there who simply cannot afford to let you pick up where Alistair left off. At least let me guide you on stuff I do know about and..”
“Who said anything about carrying on with Alistair’s plans? Now if you’ll excuse me I have a meeting to attend. Make sure you tell Mum about my invitation and lock up when you leave.”
Beresford had anticipated trouble from his wayward offspring, but this was lunacy. It also meant that he needed to change his itinerary. He would have to meet with certain people earlier than planned. He decided to go along with the suggestion for his wife to stay on a few days, while he sculptured his new arrangements.
*
Renton got the expected response from the Midwest, Bradstock was not available. He prevailed as he had done last time, and was confronted with a ferocious tirade, adequately punctuated with profanities. It seemed at odds with the actual explanation that Bradstock was preparing to attend church with his family. His voice became calmer when Renton dropped the news that there was a retained copy of Banks’ call history. Renton pressed on.
“It just shows that electronics have not totally replaced pen and paper altogether.” He paused to allow Bradstock some thinking time, and then resumed. “I realise that we still need the actual Sim-card as evidence to match what I have in front of me, and I expect that later today.” Another pause made him feel confident. “The calls from people who are still in Newcastle tie up with the testimony we have. However, as I don’t want to stray into the other jurisdictions again, I thought you’d like to know that the call Banks made to Baumann was before the flight which Alistair failed to catch. This is apparently at odds with what Baumann’s father said at the London morgue, when he said the body was not that of his son.” He paused once more for the inevitable challenge, and Bradstock did not disappoint.
“How do you know that?” Renton feigned an apology for overhearing it being discussed between the Newcastle morgue staff and forensics.
“Apparently, Gregory Watson was called by the London people, as they were comparing grit which was found on Banks’ body with stuff from the abandoned hospital. They were a match. I think they were trying to fit this with the relative time of death for each of them, and Baumann’s father’s assertion came up.” Bradstock’s voice was now decidedly different.
“And now you think that both Banks and Baumann knew they were in danger before the flight. Well that would make Baumann more concerned to get his family out of the UK as soon as he could. Good work Jack.”
“I’m not finished Sir. If his wife actually said what was reported in the German press, that Baumann told her he had to proceed to a Cologne hotel, and the family went to Bonn, it may have been to distract anyone who may have followed him. I just think it would be prudent to check if he actually stayed in Germany, or came back here. Everyone seems to be looking for him, and I don’t want another body to appear here. Death seems to follow him around. I wondered if you could find out if he came back to the UK. I think it’d be prudent to know this before the press, and they are very resourceful.” Renton had neatly handed Bradstock both problems - any discrepancy between Angela’s note and the card, and disseminating information of Baumann’s probable whereabouts.
“You are absolutely right, leave it with me.”
*
When uniform spoke separately with Paul Grimes and Vic Jackson they simply took the ‘no comment’ route. There was sufficient clear footage to charge them with inciting public disorder, and they did not deny that they had thrown projectiles at groups behind the barricades. They would not even comment on their targets being members of the Muslim Shield, who were carrying their own placards. When they were told to wait for C.I.D. interrogation they reacted differently for the first time. Grimes’ insolent expression never changed, and he ‘requested’ a cup of tea. Jackson became ever so slightly nervous, and more so the longer he was kept waiting. When Renton and Adams entered and switched on the recorder, Jackson asked what it was all about. Renton was gazing at the forensics report on the blue Alfa Romeo, and noted that fingerprints found on the boot lid had been run against the database without finding a match. He then looked up at the two of them.
“We need to speak with you separately. Grimes would you please follow the uniformed officer to another room.” He complied.
He then turned to Jackson. “What’s wrong with your face?”
“I’ve always been this ugly.”
“Yes, we know that, but you have got a dressing on your cheek.”
“Got mugged down by the Ouseburn last week. I sorted the two bastards out though.”
“Right, I’m just looking at a photograph of you from our f
iles, and you really haven’t got much prettier since this was taken. I notice the dressing is in exactly the same place as an unsightly lump on this photo.”
“Look, you haven’t told me what this is about, so I’m leaving.” He stood up and the uniformed officer at the door took slightly closer attendance. Renton hit him with another question.
“Where were you in the early hours of Monday 5th November? It should be easy to remember, you know, Guy Fawkes and all that.”
“I’m not answering any more questions, now I want to leave.”
“Sit down. Victor Jackson, I’m arresting you in connection with the death of Alistair Banks.” Adams was just as surprised as Jackson. Renton read him the usual caution and asked if he wanted legal representation. Jackson showed the first signs of panic and nodded. The interview was temporarily suspended while Jackson made his call.
In the meantime Adams visited Grimes, who was idly twiddling his thumbs. After the usual procedures, he said this was a preliminary interview, and let him know that Jackson had called for a solicitor.
“We wanted to talk to you both about the death of Alistair Banks, but your pal seems to be nervous without a legal presence. Do you feel the same?” Grimes shook his head, but said nothing.
“We want to ask about a blue Alfa Romeo which was seen at the Angel that night, or to be more precise, in the early hours of Monday 5th November. We have a witness who saw someone beside the car just prior to the body being discovered. I suppose you’re familiar with this as it’s been on the news.” Grimes shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the empty tea cup.
“I could do with another brew.”
“Ok,” said Adams, “I’ll get one sent in. I’m going back to speak with Jackson’s legal representative before questioning him again. We’ll be holding both of you in connection with this suspicious death. Jackson has been arrested, and depending on further interrogation we may charge you. If you do think of something you want to say, just tell the officer outside and he’ll come and get me.”
*
Vivienne Banks had arranged to meet with Julian Hepworth and Martin Parrish at the Bio-Cure corporate office. She wanted to reassure the latter that his contract with the company would continue and prepare him for her intended travel schedule in the coming week. He was immensely relieved.
“I was prepared for the worst, knowing that the company was going to move to Germany. Alistair had asked if I wanted to go with him, but I had to think of the family and they didn’t want to move. I guess I would’ve got by with my other customers, but this news is fantastic. I don’t know anything of the details of the proposed move over there, but you know I always suspected that Alistair wouldn’t have wanted to do it just for the hell of it. Maybe his hand was forced in some way. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know.” When Parrish had departed she turned to Hepworth.
“Where do we start looking for Bowman and the briefcase?”
“Well, everything points to Bio-Synth, but if the briefcase doesn’t arrive there then we can be sure he won’t. You know, this kind of disappearing act doesn’t fit with Harry, unless he’s being held. Also, I’m absolutely amazed that the people at Bio-Synth haven’t made contact. After all, this deal was basically their last throw of the dice.”
“Yes that is strange. That’s why I’m going over there myself, and I’ve asked Martin to take the Mercedes on the ferry to Amsterdam. I want him to drive me to their head office unannounced, and to arrive in style. They are owed an explanation, and they aren’t going to get that from the police. Maybe we can convince them that although the original plan is obsolete, we can discuss a different way to work together. Perhaps there’s scope for something which would be in the interests of both companies in the future. If they are as desperate as you say they are, they must be prepared to talk.”
“I’m confused Vivienne, I thought you wanted me to take care of the business aspects?”
“I do Julian, and that’s a full time job. I’ll find out what happened to Alistair come hell or high water, and I don’t want to distract you with the same burden. I want to know why my husband was prepared to leave for Germany and live without me. We’ve had some turbulent times, but which marriages haven’t? I knew him so well, you know – deep down, and there were lots of other things he’d have missed over there. There’s a reason and I will find it. Bowman and the briefcase will explain a lot; he was involved in this deal more than anyone other than Alistair. That’s where I’ll start, over there with his damned wife.”
*
While Renton and Adams were waiting for Jackson’s legal presence, they were surprised to see Stephanie arrive.
“It’s Sunday you know, did you have a hard night Steph?”
“Ha-ha, I just had an idea, maybe a stupid one, so I’ll bounce it off you and then you decide whether to send me home.”
“Ok, let’s have it.”
“Well I began thinking about all of the deaths so far, and what struck me as puzzling, was the apparently different locations involved. I know we have to look for motive, but I thought there could be an indirect connection.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve heard D.C.I. Renton say many times that Banks being placed at the Angel could be some kind of announcement, whereas the abandoned hospital was the opposite, in fact the body could have languished there for months. The Tower Bridge is an icon, like the first one, and Pitafi’s was nothing like any of the others. However if we look purely at the purpose or context of the locations, there could be, well… I knew you’d think I was mad.”
“No, no, carry on.”
“Ok, there’s some connection with all of them. Bowman or Baumann connects two of them to Banks, even if the bodies weren’t actually him. Pitafi is connected through the car, and before you say it, I was wrong about him being involved with Banks’ murder. Where there could be a difference is that Pitafi had to be silenced, because we were going to prove him innocent when he was actually set up. The others – well, the Angel virtually announces that you’re in or from the northeast. The hospital is run down and a victim of government austerity, regardless of the welfare of its patients. Tower Bridge is one of London’s best known iconic structures and it spans the Thames.” Adams and Renton looked at one another and then at Stephanie once more. She was motioned to continue.
“If I’m right they are all announcements except Pitafi, and there will be more. I Googled the two victims from London, and they matched the Tower Bridge woman with a missing person, she worked for Thames Water. I think we might find something similar with the other body, possibly a connection with mental or incurable conditions, a doctor or something, I don’t know. Why are you both looking at me like that?”
It was Renton who spoke. “It makes a certain kind of sense to me, but it’s Ben that you have to convince, he’s the only one who can authorise you to weasel what you can out of London. Otherwise you’re stuck with continuing to examine the evidence.”
Adams gave her the nod. “Be the model of discretion and run your approach past me before you actually make the calls.”
Chapter 14
They returned to the interview room to see that Jackson had his legal aid representative. In the intervening break Renton had phoned Clive Donoghue to confirm he had no matches for the fingerprints found anywhere on the car. The reply was definite.
“After eliminating Pitafi and his family, we found no exact matches.”
Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his seat and his representative insisted that he should keep quiet until told otherwise. Renton began by addressing the legal man.
“We have two witnesses who saw and spoke to the person who claimed to be the owner of the blue Alfa Romeo stranded at the crime scene. The descriptions they gave us are extremely similar and independent of one another. This is why we need your client to take part in an identity parade.” He turned to Jackson. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to remove your facial dressing. If they can’t identify you then you are free t
o go.”
The legal man nodded but Jackson protested about the dressing. “The doctor said I had to keep it on for a couple of weeks. It was a nasty cut.”
“It would be unfair to you if you are the only one in the line-up with such a feature. We have a medical presence here. If you like, she can call your doctor and ask if it is appropriate to apply a new dressing. After all, you said it happened last week, and hygiene is important.”
Jackson abandoned his bluff and complied, as he felt he was continuing to arouse more suspicion.
“Let’s get this over with and then I can get the hell out of here.” He peeled off the dressing and put it in the refuse bin. Renton asked Adams to escort Jackson to the parade area and his legal man to the viewing screen. When they were gone he fished the dressing out of the bin, and popped it into a plastic evidence bag, then joined Adams and the first witness.
As soon as the members of the line-up faced the front Jimmy the dog walker pressed number four. Adams told him to take his time.