Resident Fear

  “Yes, but you missed out one crucial word. First comes the demand, then the supply, and in between, the delivery, which may not happen now. Baumann needs to be alive and kicking with a briefcase, or all of your creativity was for nothing. By the way, have you told Mrs Banks she is in charge of Bio-Cure Industries yet?”

  “In a word, yes. It has however turned out to be much more complicated in practice, primarily because she has always said she did not even want responsibility for checking appointments with her hairdresser, never mind considering what to do with a company.”

  “Well let’s look on the bright side Doyle. If we can find Baumann alive, before the goons get to you, you may be able to talk Vivienne Banks into a public declaration that the merger is defunct, and all is back to normal.”

  “Very funny Renton, but all would not be back to normal would it? Despite her absolute insistence that she wanted nothing to do with the business, my revelation to her that she would inherit the shares in any case has caused her to rethink the entire scenario. The obvious option open to her is to sell, and to recover the liquidated funds which Alistair had stuffed into the £65 million cash adjustment. The Extraordinary stock is no longer required if the deal collapses. The fly in the ointment however is the transfer bond which has probably been signed by Alistair, and authorises the money to be deposited in Germany. If there is no legal head of the company in place to rescind this bond, the money could vanish altogether. She asked me to instruct the sending bank to block the bond, due to the suspicious death of her husband. It required her signature, as legal Chairman of the board of Bio-Cure Industries. She has wasted no time in bullying the board to appoint a temporary Chief Executive to give her time to steady the ship. I must admit she has grasped the seriousness of the situation much more competently than I thought possible. You may be just as surprised as I was at the choice of Chief Executive. Julian Hepworth apparently had to be leaned upon emotionally as one of Alistair’s closest friends. He maintained that his hands were already full with his own company, but she demolished this with an offer for him to recruit a competent replacement at her cost. It was a no lose situation for him.” Renton was not going to share this information with anyone just yet.

  “Very interesting, I’ll need to be kept up to date on this, as I think we have a common interest in Baumann or someone else trying to cash that bond. Why wouldn’t they have done so already?”

  “Alistair filled in the payee, which I had assumed was the new merged company. However I did not witness the completion of the bond, as Alistair was in a hurry and said he would attend to it later. If he has made it out to an account number, that could be anyone. It is a good point you raise Inspector. Either the bond has been presented and the clearing process is underway or it has not been presented at all. Our sending bank should have alerted us if it had already received notification of clearing instruction, especially as we have now tried to block it. I will speak to them again now as the weekend is almost upon us.”

  “Good, I’ll wait while you make the call.”

  Renton’s mind was in overdrive. He began to suspect that the bond had never reached Germany. When Doyle came off the phone his shake of the head confirmed his hunch.

  “The bank has no clearing alert from Germany and they insist that an amount of this size would be on their radar.” Renton left to try to arrange another meeting with Ben Adams.

  *

  Because Adams had never bought into Stephanie Baker’s obsession with Pitafi, he decided to pay one more visit to Jimmy the Akita dog walker.

  “Now Jimmy, you’ve been very helpful to us already and I’d like to ask you about the man who directed you and Fang on to the path while the blue car was being pulled up the ramp of the recovery vehicle.” Adams was aware of how reliable a witness Jimmy would make if he was called to the stand.

  “I have some pictures for you to look at.” The first set was different vehicles from Briggs’ yard. “It is very important for us to know exactly which type you saw. You said it was a crane when we first asked you and you later remembered the Briggs logo. Take your time and see if you can see the same vehicle amongst these.”

  “Aye, alreet then.” It was only a few seconds before he pointed to the recovery truck which Briggs Plant Hire admitted had been despatched to the Angel. “That’s the one, that one there.”

  “Now Jimmy, I need to explain something. That is what the Briggs people refer to as a recovery truck, this one here is a crane. Are you certain it was this one?”

  “Oh aye, I see what you mean like. I just meant that the crane was liftin’ the car up a’height and that.”

  “Right, but I’ll need you to make another statement to confirm this. The device on the back of the recovery truck is more commonly called a winch. I know that they both lift things off the ground. However a crane apparently lifts them up directly, whereas a winch pulls them up a slope. Because I’ll have to go back to Briggs’ yard to ask them again about which vehicle was used, I need you to be absolutely sure.”

  “No problem. It was definitely this one, and the car was at an angle, but I couldn’t see the underside, ye knaa.”

  “Ok, that’s great. Now, the man who spoke to you might be amongst these pictures, have a look at them.” Jimmy shook his head. Adams had compiled a rogues’ gallery with two different press photos of Pitafi taken during one of his rallies against the Muslim Shield. He asked Jimmy one more question.

  “I know it was very dark that night, but did you have any idea of the cultural background, ethnicity or race of the man?”

  “Eh?”

  “Sorry, I wondered if the man was white, black, Asian, or was it too dark with his hard hat on to tell?”

  “Oh, wey he wasn’t black, or Asian if ye mean Chinese.”

  “How about Indian, Pakistani, Arab?”

  “Nah, he just looked like a hard nut from the Toon, a skinheed like. The lump on his face twisted his mouth when he was givin’ me and Fang a bollickin’ for not gettin’ on the path. I was a bit scared of him really.”

  Adams thanked him and set off for Briggs’ yard. The same set of pictures was shown to the driver of the recovery vehicle and met with the same negative response for Pitafi. He also recalled the facial distortion due to the lump, and was even more certain than Jimmy that the man was white.

  “He paid me under the street lights. He was quite well dressed for a fella’ who had his hair shaved down to the wood and the snake tattoos he had on the backs of his hands.”

  Adams was both pleased and disappointed. It allowed them to press on with forensic investigation of the car, having no direct evidence to place the owner at the scene. However, Stephanie and the uniformed officer had not done a great job in collecting detailed statements. He knew she had been verbally disciplined by Forster, and considered confronting her one-to-one. He knew she was better than this, and she was getting carried away with being fast-tracked to promotion. The problem he anticipated was in her attitude going forward from here, with two admonishments in two days. He knew Renton was better at these things, and he would run it by the boss. Just then his phone rang. It was Forster.

  “I think you need to get back here Ben, there has been another significant development. I have been asked to go to London. Do you have any other mobile number for D.C.I. Renton? I can’t raise him on the one I have at present and I must speak to him urgently.”

  “No I don’t, he may have it switched off. Anyway I’m on my way back now.”

  This was not a good time for Forster to be heading for the capital. The planned protest march through Newcastle was scheduled for the next day, Saturday. The Chinese and Polish moderate groups had forged closer ties and their banners were to reflect the name Enigma. It was born out of the burgeoning frustration with the failure of the moderate Muslims to regularly and vociferously condemn the stance of the Muslim Shield. They were putting out the message that all ethnic groups should be united against the spectre of genetic classification and beyond
. They were critical of government reluctance to openly discuss their intent, and the worry over the missing database. However, in wanting to bring moderate Muslims into the fold, they were on collision course again with the Muslim extremists. The government had also failed to factor in sufficient concern about those of Chinese and Polish origin who wanted more draconian action than a few placards, and parading up Northumberland Street. The police did not underestimate the potential powder keg coming so soon after the recent riots. The march had been given official approval some time ago, but now police reinforcements were being drafted in from the other arms of the Three Rivers region. Unknown to them, other reinforcements were at the ready, courtesy of the Colony.

  *

  Beresford’s craft had been anchored some distance off the shore of the Isle of Bute, not too far from the mainland of the west of Scotland. He and his wife had been collected and deposited at Inverkip, a marina on the mainland, and were now on their way south to Carlisle where they would meet up with Eddie Finley, before the final onward stretch to Newcastle. Vivienne was in for a pleasant surprise, at least by the appearance of her mother. Beresford would be more shocked than surprised that he was meeting with the new head of Bio-Cure Industries.

  *

  When Ben Adams entered the office of his regular boss with Forster behind the desk, it still grated with his sense of justice. He could almost smell the anxiety.

  “Sit down Ben. I’ve managed to locate Renton and he’s on his way here. He will brief you as to why when he arrives. I asked you to come back because London has reported another body having been found. I know this is almost a daily occurrence in the Capital these days, with accidents, drugs, gang skirmishes, fires and all the other causes of sudden urban mortality. They don’t usually have identification on them which suggests they are Harry Bowman or Heinrich Baumann.” Adams expression bordered on incredulity but he remained silent as Foster continued.

  “The circumstances seem a little different with this one. Firstly it is the body of a woman. The first corpse in the abandoned hospital was carrying ID which was for the German version – Baumann. This woman has similar stuff for Bowman. Also the former was ‘hidden away’ whereas this one was noticed at first light swinging from Tower Bridge on an elasticated cord. The cord seems to have been carefully estimated to allow the body to bob in and out of the water in temporary concert with the tide. This information has just been released, and as yet it is not accompanied by a cause of death. Bradstock called me half an hour ago to brief me and get me down there as quickly as possible. He wants me to do this as I already carry quite a bit of data from here, and there’s no doubt now that these killings are linked. Also the implication is that they may not stop at three. Sorry that I have to dash for my flight. Renton will fill you in with what happens next here. I’m sure we will be working together in the near term.” Adams had still not uttered a word and simply waved him goodbye.

  .

  Chapter 11

  Saturday November 10th 2018

  Having decided to accept the complete removal of the suspension from his record Renton wanted to get stuck into the case again, not because of the explosive public interest it had already attracted, but rather the professional challenge it waved in his face. Adams felt it was a fitting reversal of vulnerability which forced the brass to back down. Even in just a few days the two of them had got used to getting out of the office to shoot the breeze, and that was the first decision – they would continue to do so. The walk along the almost totally deserted sand at Druridge Bay on the wild and beautiful Northumberland coast was set to the rhythm of huge crashing waves and a distant dog barking at an irretrievable toy. The rolling dunes gave way to smooth wide sand expanses, which had over the decades inspired many artists to capture one of the best kept secrets of the industrial age. Renton stated the obvious.

  “Nothing and everything has changed in a few days Ben. Baumann’s whereabouts and Banks’ briefcase still hold the key to all of this in terms of why? So what has changed? Vivienne Banks has, according to Doyle, grabbed Bio-Cure Industries for herself. I wasn’t going to make this known to Forster, and I wasn’t going to burden you with it until I was reinstated. Well that’s now happened, and we can talk to her again in her new capacity. Both Baumann and Vivienne are now in the frame of following the money – the probable motive. Do you want to comment, throw in a challenge to the logic, or just tell me that you think I’m heading for more confrontation with Bradstock?”

  Adams quietly said, “You haven’t mentioned Germany, but I know you well enough to believe that you still think there is something relevant there. So, I guess you have a scheme in mind.”

  “You’re on the money Ben. This time I’ll go straight to Bradstock before I act on anything, in fact I may be able to convince him to do it for me. Tell me, in my absence what’s been done about Banks’ Sim-card?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about boss.”

  “Clive Donoghue found no mobile on Banks but there was a Sim-card in his shoe. He wanted to check it for prints, listed numbers and recent calls before passing it on to us.” Adams still looked at him blankly and shrugged his shoulders. “Did I not mention this at the time?”

  “Not to me, I’d have followed it up, you know that.”

  “Yes, you would have, it’s a critical piece of evidence. It should tell us who Banks did and did not speak to in the period after the match, and before the missed flight to Cologne. Let’s check it out with Donoghue.”

  The reply was worrying. Apparently a report plus the Sim-card had been sent in a re-sealable evidence bag to Forster. They returned to the office and hunted for the bag without success. Renton gazed out of the window while tapping his finger on the desktop. After a prolonged period Adams could not resist a jibe.

  “Boss, is that Morse-Code or an AC/DC track? It’s doing my head in.”

  “This reinforces my need to involve Bradstock, and I need to do it right now.”

  “Hey, come on, it’s Saturday, he won’t take kindly to this. Let’s do some digging and put off your call to Bradstock until Monday. Maybe Forster has a reasonable explanation.”

  “Ben, you need to distance yourself from this for now. I’m nudging towards fifty and I know nothing other than police work and how the system operates. I’m being manipulated here. You’re still young enough to think about doing something else with your life, and you should seriously consider all of your options. Forster being whisked away to London was in the plan, the new body merely provided the cover.” Renton rang headquarters in Midwest and as expected was told Bradstock was unavailable.

  “My name is Renton, D.C.I. in the Newcastle section of the Three Rivers Force. I have some critical information for the Chief, and I’m sure he will be angry with you if he has to wait until Monday because you declined to connect me with him. I advise you to speak to your immediate superior and ask if it’s possible for the Chief to call me. That way we are both off the hook, if he doesn’t see the request as urgent. I’ll wait here for another hour.”

  The anxious wait was punctuated by Adams trying to weigh up Renton’s brinkmanship strategy. He confessed to agreeing with the logic, and that he was out of his depth with the politics. The ring managed to acquire a sinister tone.

  “Renton.”

  “What now? I am at a rather important meeting, which is now suspended by my withdrawal. This had better be good Renton.”

  “Yes Sir, I considered waiting until Monday but I began to realise that time could be an important factor. The Sim-card recovered from what we believe was Alistair Banks’ mobile at the Angel, has gone missing. Our head of forensics assures me that there was critical information on the card and that it was sent back to C.I.D. with a full report. In my absence, my detective sergeant hasn’t been apprised of this, and I don’t know why. I suppose I could have just informed C.C. Cousins or asked D.C.I. Forster about it, but I’m trying to adhere to my new brief of confining all enquiries to Banks and the Newcast
le evidence. I didn’t want to speculate as to who may be involved with the disappearance of the card, but I would’ve thought at least a copy of the report should have been filed. I know I can get another copy from Clive Donoghue, but that doesn’t recover the actual evidence – the card. I’m also sensitive to creating unnecessary speculation by beginning a station-wide search which could then be interpreted as a cover-up. I know this is irregular, but I’m simply asking your advice.”

  The silence was agonising. “I see. Well we can’t have critical evidence going missing. If you are sure it has disappeared I suggest you make sure that it is not sloppy housekeeping. I take your point about causing speculation if it cannot be found. Don’t worry too much about informing me before Cousins or Forster on this occasion. It is something I can bring up with them in casual conversation, to see if there is a logical explanation. I suppose you have considered that in the rush to get to the Capital, at my insistence, Forster may have inadvertently taken it when clearing his desk?”

  “It was the first thing that occurred to me Sir, and I had also agreed with D.C.I. Forster that I’d sleep on the offer to return to office. When he called me to say things had moved on and he would appreciate an immediate response, I kind of rallied to the call. The last thing I wanted to do was call him and appear to be poking my nose into the speculation trough again. That’s why I made sure the Sim-card wasn’t here, before calling you. If Forster has it we can relax. If he hasn’t then I must shake the tree here, and that would take some time unless we just declare it missing now.”

  “Yes, I believe that should be the order of things. You were correct to ring me. I will get back to you when I have spoken to Forster.” Bradstock hung up.

  “Did you get all of that on the recorder Ben?”

  “I certainly did. What do you think the odds are of him ringing you back?”

  “If I was a betting man, and I am, I would say one hundred percent. Forster is in for a dressing down. Whether he took it by mistake or deliberately, he has screwed up. He may have thought Donoghue had sent the report without having already told me about the card. Look Ben, there are phone calls which we’ve been told Banks made from London. First of all to his wife, to say he wasn’t returning on Saturday. Then there was one to the pilot with the same message. He was alleged by Baumann’s wife to have sent a message to the German in Cologne airport, to meet with someone in a hotel, but that’s second hand testimony. The message could have been voice or text. There’s also supposed to be a call from his chauffeur with an offer to pick him up from his intended sleeper train arrival in Newcastle. Except for the Baumann message, they all fall under our jurisdiction. The fact that there are now two bodies, which are blatantly advertised as Baumann but not Baumann, is why we need to be kept out of that loop. Bradstock now knows, just as Forster did that Donoghue had produced a report. Clive told me he has his copy on file. How about this for a punt? Bradstock will call me to say Forster has the card, and it will be returned minus the Baumann message. When Clive comes in to retrieve his copy, it won’t be there.”