Enigma

  Chapter Fourteen

  He was standing by the side of his bed. She was standing in front of him. He could make out the shape of her body in the soft darkness of the room.

  The muted sounds of London traffic in the distance were the only sounds to be heard. A soft click, a moment later her bra fell to the floor. He smiled. She moved a step closer to him. He took a step towards her. An electricity began to surge through his entire body ending up in his groin. It always ended up there. Like a national grid centre. You could always count on it ending up there, reliable, on reflection, perhaps not too much like a national grid centre after all. He reached for her hand and took a step back. His mobile fell from his bedside table its light softly illuminating the room. He looked into her eyes.

  ‘Doctor Cooper?’

  Love snapped to attention. ‘Stuart! Oh man…’ he groaned.

  ‘Love, are you all right?’ Stuart looked down at his friend and partner. ‘You’re going to burn yourself out, mate.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘I just had a catnap for two minutes.’ Love pushed his chair back, stood up and strode over to the window. He leant his forehead against the cold pane of glass and closed his eyes.

  That woman was haunting him.

  ‘Would you like some water…’ Stuart half turned to look in the direction of the mango sideboard. ‘I think we’ve still got some of that Bonaqua you’re so hung up on,’ he said, and smiled. ‘Or would you prefer a cup of tea?’

  Love pulled back from the window and turned his head. ‘Tea would be great,’ he said. ‘Thanks, mate.’

  Stuart smiled, nodded and walked over to the kettle, shook it and switched it on. ‘I was asking how your phone call about the tapes went with Doctor Cooper.’ He turned back to look at Love. ‘Love? Mate, what is it?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What happened whilst I was out of the office? I was only gone,’ he paused as he glanced down at his watch, ‘for twenty minutes. Did aliens come down and do something I should know about?’

  Love thought back to his dream. ‘No!’

  ‘Well, that’s emphatically said.’ Stuart chuckled. He was part amused part concerned with his friend. He’d never known him to be so visibly agitated. Even his impending divorce had been mentioned only in passing. ‘So, can the good doctor help?’

  Love thought back to his recent conversation. He rubbed his eyes, turned away from the window and walked back to his desk. He searched for his cigarettes but found the pack in his drawer to be empty.

  ‘She’s been real helpful,’ he said. ‘She’s arranged it with their security.’ He patted his chinos and found half a pack in one of the pockets. He took one out flipped it into his mouth grabbed his lighter from his other pocket and ignited a flame. He inhaled deeply.

  ‘That’s great! When will they be ready?’

  Love walked back to the window opened it wide and blew the smoke outside. ‘Anytime today,’ he said. ‘I’ll get a PC to go and collect them.’ He took another long drag on his cigarette holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling it out the window.

  ‘You’re not going?’

  ‘Why would you say that?’

  ‘Well, you could check on Timmy whilst you were there.’ Stuart placed the teabag in Love’s mug poured in boiling water and squeezed it hard repeatedly with the back of the teaspoon. He was determined to get every bit out of it. He reckoned his partner could use it.

  ‘I asked after the kid. He’s doing all right but still doesn’t remember anything else,’ he said. He pulled the window shut, strode back over to his desk and stubbed out his cigarette. Well aware of the building’s policies. The division carried a no smoking policy and had put aside a smoking room for that purpose. Love hardly ever made it in there. Instead he’d light up a cigarette take a couple of long drags put it out and crunch his way through a supply of mints.

  ‘That’s good news,’ he said handing Love his mug. ‘About Timmy doing well I mean.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ Love took the mug gratefully. He took a sip. ‘Wow! Hot but good. Yes, it sure is.’

  ‘How far are you going to go?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘With the security cameras. How far back are you going?’

  ‘Starting off with the week before Carol’s death and we’ll work our way forward from there.’

  ‘Well,’ Stuart said as he bent his head slightly and took a sip of his tea. His hair fell forward over his eye, he flicked it away from his face. ‘If Carol was meeting anyone let’s hope the cameras have picked it up.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Love said, taking another mouthful. ‘Let’s hope so.’

  For those few minutes Love hadn’t been in full control. And he didn’t like that. Love was a man who knew what he wanted, who was in control of his emotions, and he let nothing or no one get in his way.

  This had rattled him. He told himself he had no interest in the doctor in any romantic capacity.

  Then why was he trying so hard to convince himself of that?

  The rest of the morning was taken up with endless cups of tea, telephone calls, cigarettes half-smoked or less and going over files and theories.

  Love looked over at Stuart who was working on one of the programmes available to them. He cursed silently under his breath. Damned how he knew Stuart had the patience. The software afforded a lot more than was available to the regular police force but it was up to Stuart and his unique computer skills to get that much more from it.

  Some called it cheating. Love called it skilful. A means to an end and it produced results.

  Love glanced at the clock on the wall. He leant back in his chair and stretched his arms high above his head. ‘Butterfield should be tucking into his lunch right now,’ he said. ‘Shall we make our move?’

  Stuart stopped typing and looked up at Love. ‘Now?’ He glanced down at his Bell & Ross. ‘Yeah, why not. At least we know we can catch him at the office. Safe bet anyway.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly.’ Love rolled back his chair, stood up, patted his pockets and shrugged on his Donegal.

  Stuart clicked his mouse a couple of times, jumped up, his chair rolling a short distance behind him, grabbed his jacket, his cashmere, and said, ‘All right then, let’s make tracks.’

  At that moment, Love’s mobile rang. ‘Sorry, hang on.’ He reached into his pocket and snapped it open. ‘Dick Love.’

  ‘Love, it’s Julie Cooper.’

  ‘Really? Hello again.’

  ‘I’m ringing about Timmy,’ she said. ‘He remembers what that word was.’

  ‘The one he heard the assailant say,’ Love said. ‘Now that is interesting.’

  ‘He said “smile”.’

  ‘Smile?’

  ‘Yes,’ Doctor Cooper said. ‘Just that one word and then he pulled the trigger.’

  ‘Well, thank Timmy for me, very much.’

  ‘Does it mean anything?’

  ‘At this stage, Julie, everything means something.’

  ‘Well, goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye and thanks again.’ He snapped his mobile shut. Stuart looked on questioningly. ‘I’ll tell you about it on the way down.’

  ‘Smile?’ Stuart said.

  The lift doors opened and they walked out into reception and along to the door that would lead them into the underground car park.

  ‘Yeah, just like you say before taking a photograph.’

  ‘And there enters the camera connection,’ Stuart said, and smiled. ‘Clever boy.’

  Love nodded. He was indeed a clever boy associating the word with cameras. ‘Let’s keep it in mind, mate, you never know where it might take us.’

  Less than a minute later, Stuart and Love were driving along in Love’s Volvo and on their way to the property offices in Kennington Lane. It had been a toss-up as to whose car they would take. There was always a risk of running into trouble when out in the midst of an investigation and Stuart didn’t relish having to take his Jag into the garage for repai
rs yet again. It had already been resprayed and two dents taken out of the rear end this year alone.

  The police force footed the bill and Stuart was given an allowance towards the car but it was still his own personal automobile. His baby. And he didn’t want to give it up to drive around in a Ford or some other frightful contraption on four wheels, although, what could be worse than a Ford Ka or a Nissan Micra, he wasn’t all that sure.

  Well, he told himself, you can take it or leave it, matey, so shut up and get on with it and if you don’t like it getting damaged don’t buy a car you love! But he was still glad to be out in his partner’s Volvo.

  Even if the lack of heating did leave something to be desired.

  ‘Love, when are you going to get this heating repaired?’ Stuart groaned. He pulled up the collar of his cashmere overcoat and rubbed his hands together. He raised his body slightly from his seat and scrambled inside the pockets of his coat to retrieve his leather gloves. Black, fine leather lined with silk, by Dents. He pulled them on. ‘I’m bloody freezing.’

  Love quickly buzzed up his window. It had stopped raining but now a slight breeze had picked up. ‘I keep meaning to, mate, but just don’t get around to it.’

  ‘Send it off with one of the constables when you’re next in the office and you’re not using it, for goodness sake.’ Stuart turned his head and grinned at Love. ‘I’m beginning to regret winning the toss.’

  Love smiled. He was thinking of his recent phone call with Sven Stonehead. The man had hedged. He was hesitant. Like he was hiding something. It was only for a split second but Love picked up on it. Love also took an instant dislike to him. He didn’t like his voice. Effeminate. Whining. On the outside he sounded charming enough. But he was hiding his real personality. Putting on an act. Everyone does at first. But Love felt this character took it to extremes.

  ‘Stonehead is coming to London next week. I’ve arranged for him to meet up with us next Tuesday.’

  ‘Really? You got through to him then?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Where’s the meeting?’

  ‘At the Branch.’

  ‘Was he accommodating?’ Stuart asked.

  Love slowed down and stopped at the traffic lights. His foot on the clutch and brake he pushed the gearstick into first and turned to face Stuart. ‘He was cooperative in a guarded and reluctant way.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Charming on the surface but possibly hiding the antithesis of what’s really going on inside.’

  ‘One of those,’ Stuart said raising his eyebrows. He glanced at the car in the lane next to theirs. ‘Bet he drives a Ka,’ he added more to himself.

  ‘Yeah,’ Love said. The lights turned amber, Love pushed the gear into first, the lights turned green and he let his foot off the brake. ‘One of those.’