‘But it drains from the marshes; it would be salt water.’
‘No, that’s just it. It isn’t entirely a salt marsh. They’s why there’s such a mixed combination of salt- and fresh-water marsh wildlife there. Only the lower section has been penetrated by sea water. There is a stand tap the gardeners who work the allotments use, but it’s further up towards the houses. Unless they want to hose their crops, they find it more convenient to use the canal.’
‘It still doesn’t explain why no one else was affected.’
‘Preece was unlucky. I think the water he scooped up contained a minute sample of acid – it may have been in crystal form – but it was still undiluted enough to have effect. A million to one chance, I admit, but stranger things have happened.’
‘You’re saying he sprinkled acid on his own vegetables?’ Kelso’s voice was incredulous.
‘That’s my guess. And it’s not so illogical, is it? Not when you give it further thought.’
He was already giving it further thought. ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
She smiled, and it was that hard smile, without warmth. ‘You got it. I believe there’s a drugs factory somewhere in the area.’
‘But they wouldn’t be stupid enough to deposit chemical waste, let alone pure acid, into the water system.’
‘Of course not. It would have been an accident, a careless mistake that Preece and his wife and son paid for. I’ll bet we find they had some nice spring vegetables for their dinner that night.’
‘We’ll leave the local police to find that out.’ Kelso rose from the caravan’s kitchen table and walked through to the lounge area to retrieve his shoulder-bag. He rummaged inside and came back to the table, laying out the carefully drawn map of the locality. ‘Let’s see where that waterway runs to,’ he said.
Ellie moved her stool around to sit next to him and they both stared intently at the map. Kelso’s finger found the waterway and traced its route, travelling away from the coastline. His hand stopped moving and he let out a deep breath. ‘It’s just open country.’
‘Wait a minute. Look here, another waterway runs into it.’ She pointed eagerly at the junction and Kelso quickly followed the other waterway’s route. ‘I don’t believe it.’ He looked at Ellie, his eyes wide.
‘What is it?’ she asked impatiently.
‘You see where it runs through the wooded area? That’s part of Slauden’s estate. The waterway passes near to Eshley Hall.’
They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Then Ellie giggled and Kelso’s eyes began to narrow and he was grinning, beginning to laugh, himself.
‘D’you think it’s possible, Jim?’ Ellie had stopped laughing, a little wary now of the implications of their suspicions. ‘I mean, he’s Sir Anthony Slauden, a war hero, a patron of the arts, the chairman . . . oh my God. Something else I learned today: one of his businesses is a small pharmaceutical company.’
‘So it would be no problem to get hold of large quantities of calcium lactate or any other precursors he needs.’
‘Oh Christ, I can’t believe it myself now; it fits too well.’
‘No, it doesn’t. It’s all circumstantial. The very character of the man goes against everything we suspect. He’s a leading figure of the Establishment. He owns his own bird sanctuary. He’s even a bloody health fiend!’
Their elation was beginning to dwindle fast.
‘Circumstantial or not, Jim, it does seem to point a finger.’ Ellie’s tone was insistent. ‘Doesn’t it?’
‘It’s worth checking out. We’ll keep this to ourselves for now – I’d hate to look stupid – but I think we’ll have a closer look at Sir Anthony. Let’s take a walk along that waterway tomorrow, see where it goes to in his estate. It might just turn up something.’
‘You didn’t find anything suspicious today?’
‘Not a thing. Of course, I wasn’t invited to snoop around near the house; I also had the impression I was going through some kind of interrogation. But then, maybe I’m not the type he likes wandering around his estate – I guess I look a bit radical for his tastes.’
‘You don’t look like fuzz, that’s for sure.’
‘I’m a long way from Hendon.’
‘I bet they’re pleased.’
Kelso grunted and Ellie wasn’t sure there was a word contained in the sound. He began to fumble in his pockets for his cigarettes.
‘You smoke too much,’ she said.
‘Yes, Ma.’ He offered her one and she shook her head. ‘Hungry?’ he asked.
Ellie nodded. ‘And thirsty. I took the trouble to eat today, but I suppose you didn’t’
‘Uh, no.’
‘Okay, let me freshen up and I’ll cook us something.’
‘Let’s eat out, save you the trouble.’
‘Deal. I’ll pay, though; I feel like celebrating a little and I don’t think police funds cater for my mood.’
‘Let’s not get carried away, Ellie.’ His tone and expression were serious. ‘All this may be just wishful thinking; we’ve no real evidence as yet.’
‘I know, I know. But own up: it looks a little brighter since I came on the scene, right?’
He laughed aloud. ‘Yeah, I’ve got to admit that.’ Then he hesitated before speaking again. ‘I rang HQ today on the way back from Eshley Hall.’
‘Oh yes?’ She became wary.
‘Ellie, I tried to get you taken off the investigation again.’
‘For Christ’s sake, why?’ she said angrily. ‘I’m not incompetent, am I? I’m not getting in your way? What the hell did you tell them?’
‘It doesn’t matter. They refused, anyway. They said exactly as before: you’re a good operative and our departments have to co-operate with each other. They told me to grow up, too.’
‘Grow up?’
‘I said it was awkward sharing a caravan with a woman.’
Her eyes rolled heavenwards. ‘And they told you to grow up.’
‘And to make the most of it.’
She flushed red for a moment ‘Did you report that I’d been knocked out by an intruder?’
‘No.’
‘But . . .’ she began to say.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, cigarette pointed towards her as though it were a full stop to her protests. ‘If I had, they’d have sent a team down here. Softly, softly, would have become crash, bang. You know what they’re like when women – ours or yours – are involved. Christ, they’re bad enough when there’s violence against one of their men. I couldn’t take the chance of letting them spoil a low-profile operation. You understand that?’
‘Yes, of course I do. I’m in agreement. So that’s why you used the lame excuse of our sharing the caravan.’
‘I felt pretty stupid.’
‘It was pretty stupid. But let’s forget it, okay? I told you before, you’re stuck with me, so you might as well resign yourself to the fact. Now, let me get myself together and I’ll treat you to a feast. You look kind of untidy yourself, by the way.’
‘You’re not angry?’
Ellie was standing, ready to move away from the table. She stared down at him. ‘I’m angry; but there’s no point to it.’ She rested her hands on the table-top. ‘Is there anything else on your mind, Jim? Anything else you’re worried about?’ Come on, she thought silently, bring it out into the open. You’re no jinx; it’s just a label others have stuck on you.
He drew in on the cigarette and avoided looking into her eyes. ‘No, there’s nothing. What else should there be?’
‘Okay.’ She turned away and closed the sliding door between the kitchen and sleeping quarters. Kelso ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and listened to her movements. His face was grim.
The restaurant, which was really part of an inn, was situated on a quiet road leading towards the main London route. There were a few diners that evening and the atmosphere was relaxed, informal, the lighting subdued, the service unobtrusive.
Ellie looked across at Kels
o, smiling as she watched him concentrate on the huge sirloin steak before him. He ate steadily, as though devouring the food was a task that needed all his attention and deliberation. The candle at the table’s centre glowed warmly through the red glass in which it was encased, giving his face a rounded softness that usually was not apparent. With his hair neatly combed and wearing the only tie he owned – a narrow one which, he professed, had been in fashion when he had bought it, became dated with the advent of broader widths, and was the current height of fashion once more – he looked a world apart from the unshaven, tousled-hair character she had first met. His nose was slightly crooked, his chin only just firm enough, his lips about right; but it was his eyes that drew the attention. They were of the deepest blue, almost black in the subdued lighting of the restaurant, and were strangely both soft and intense when staring directly at her. They were framed by dark lashes that any girl would have envied and only his eyebrows, rising to sharp corners at their apex before descending towards his cheekbones, gave his features a harshness that was attractive yet a little intimidating. He reached for his wine glass and caught her gazing at him.
He smiled, raising his glass to her, and she quickly reached for her own wine, feeling her face flush red again, this time in schoolgirlish embarrassment rather than anger.
‘How’s your stroganoff?’ he asked quietly.
‘Fine. Your steak?’
‘It’s good. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.’
‘It seems you never do.’
He sipped the wine, watching her over the rim of his glass. ‘You still haven’t told me why,’ he said, putting down the glass. She looked enquiringly at him. ‘Why you’re not married,’ he said, cutting into the steak once more.
‘Oh.’
‘Any reason?’
‘The usual. I’m still waiting for the right one to come along. I suppose I’m somewhat naïve.’
‘I don’t think so. Have you looked hard enough?’
‘Haven’t tried. I like my job too much, I guess; it takes up most of my time. Jim, I want to ask you something, and I’d appreciate a straight answer.’
‘Is this Leap Year?’
‘Be serious, just for a moment’
He stopped cutting and laid his knife and fork down. ‘Go ahead.’
She hesitated, then plunged straight in. ‘When I was being briefed on this job, I made some of my own enquiries. About you.’
He picked up his knife and fork again and resumed cutting. She was undeterred.
‘A friend on the Force told me you had something of a reputation.’
‘Let’s drop it, Ellie.’
‘Don’t be angry. I just want to find out if that’s the reason you wanted me off this investigation. Whether it’s that or it’s just because I’m a woman and not up to your standards.’
‘Your friend told you I’m a jinx. A Jonah, I think the popular word is.’
‘He said a few of the operations you were involved in had ended badly.’
‘Only a few? Yes, I suppose there were only a few; but that’s all it takes for people to believe that you’re bad news. Why do you think I got transferred to this detail? My last op – a security van blag – got fouled up. A policeman was shot, killed, and he was only a driver.’
‘But that could hardly have been your fault.’
‘It was, though. I had the gunman in my sights; I could have stopped him using his shotgun. My gun jammed and the driver was wasted.’
‘How can you blame . . .?’
‘I know. It was the gun’s fault, not mine. But other things have happened; this was just another piece of bad luck in a chain of unfortunate incidents.’
‘This is silly, Jim. Do you think it could happen again? Is that what’s worrying you?’
‘Why should it stop now? It’s dogged me all my life.’
‘You’re not serious. You can’t really believe . . .’
‘Ellie, I know certain things happen around me. Things that are inexplicable, bad things that defy logic. I just don’t want anybody else to get hurt.’
‘I’ve never heard such self-indulgent nonsense in all my life.’ She felt angry, but her voice was restrained. ‘Just because you’ve run into bad luck now and again, it’s no reason to wallow in self-pity and imagine you’re the cause of other people’s mishaps.’
‘I’m not wallowing in self-pity!’
‘You listen to me!’ Her glass thumped down on the table and heads were turned in their direction. ‘You listen to me,’ Ellie repeated, her voice softer, but still as harsh. ‘There is no such thing as a jinx, or a Jonah. It’s something people have invented to suit their own tiny minds, something that helps them put troubles and misfortunes into tidy little boxes. It’s in the same league as curses and spells and witchcraft and ghouls. It has nothing to do with real life, Jim!’
‘You don’t understand. You don’t know what’s happened in the past.’
‘So tell me. Maybe I can make some sense of it.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think anyone can do that.’
Suddenly, she wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold him close and tell him the only thing to fear was himself, that destructive part of his mind which made him believe he was cursed. Then she was holding his hand and his eyes were confused; for the briefest of moments – and she might have been mistaken – she felt pressure on her own hand as he squeezed it tight, but then he was withdrawing, pulling his hand free, picking up the fallen fork once more.
‘Okay,’ she said, emotion slowly draining away. ‘Let’s forget about it. I’d hate to intrude on your self-made misery. We’ve got a job to do, so let’s just get on with it. No pocketbook Freud from me, no quirky misapprehensions from you. Strictly business, forget anything personal. Does that suit you?’
‘Ellie, I . . .’
‘Does it?’
‘All right.’ He began eating again and Ellie attacked her own food, not understanding the resentment she felt, the anger seething inside her. Disliking the feeling of rejection.
The rest of the meal was eaten in moody silence, save for the few formal courtesies of dining etiquette, and by the time coffee had arrived, Ellie was already beginning to regret her insistence on bringing up the subject. She hadn’t meant to upset him, hadn’t meant to upset herself. They worked well together, they might even achieve some results on this case. And there was something about him . . . she bit down on her lower lip. For Christ’s sake, Ellie, shut up and drink up! She finished the coffee and picked up the bill that had been left on the side of the table. It had crossed her mind to slip the money to him beneath the table, but she decided he would not have been at all embarrassed by her paying. She was right, he wasn’t. He was too preoccupied with his own brooding thoughts.
They left the restaurant and drove back towards the town, the car’s headlights cutting through the darkness like wide-beamed lasers through solid matter. When they reached the empty streets of the town he turned right towards the high street, away from the caravan site. ‘I thought we’d have another look in the pub – maybe Trewick will be there tonight.’
Ellie said nothing, still a little perplexed by her own feelings.
The bar was crowded, the thick smoke rushing towards the door like swirling fog when they walked in. Kelso quickly and surreptitiously scanned the faces and was disappointed once more not to find Trewick’s among them. It was strange, for up until last night, the young bearded fisherman was a regular patron of the pub; Kelso had seen him there on most of his visits. He wondered if Trewick had been absent from work again that day.
Ellie quickly moved to a vacant seat she had spotted while Kelso pushed his way up to the bar. He leaned against it and waved a pound note in the air to attract the barman’s attention, when he caught sight of a familiar face at the end of the counter.
It was Tom Adcock, skipper of the Rosie, and he sat staring down at his pint of bitter as though it contained the troubles of the world.
Ellie was puzz
led to see Kelso winding his way through the crowd once more, heading towards the end of the bar. He stopped by a bulky-looking man with grey whiskers, a mean-looking individual who sat alone with both elbows on the counter, a sullen expression on his face.
‘Just fuck off and leave me alone,’ Adcock growled, then took a long swig of his beer.
‘I only asked you if you’d like another drink,’ Kelso said patiently.
‘Why would you be buying me a drink?’
‘No reason. It was just that we’d chatted yesterday and tonight you look as though you needed cheering up.’
‘Well, I don’t. Not by you, anyway.’
‘Okay, fair enough.’
The barman had reached Kelso by then. ‘Usual, is it?’
‘Please. And a scotch and soda.’ He turned once more to Adcock. ‘Sure you won’t have one?’
A low growling noise was the only reply he got. The barman winked at Kelso and turned away, walking down to the pumps.
Kelso was almost afraid to ask but he knew he had to. ‘I, um . . . you haven’t seen Andy today, have you?’
The silence was as unsettling as the growling. Adcock slowly swivelled his head towards the detective and fixed him with his glare. ‘Why are you so fuckin interested in Andy? What’s he to you?’
‘I told you yesterday: we were going to have a drink together.’
‘Well, he’s not around. Not likely to be, neither.’
‘What d’you mean?’
The fisherman ignored him and drained his glass in one mighty swallow. He slammed it down on the counter and bellowed, ‘Let’s have another one in there, Ron.’
The barman waved an acknowledgement and continued drawing Kelso’s bitter.
‘Where’s Andy got to?’ Kelso persisted.
‘Away. Now fuck off and leave me alone, you snoopy little bastid. Likes of you got Andy into trouble.’
‘What kind of trouble?’
Kelso felt his knees go weak as the fisherman slowly rose from the stool and towered over him. ‘I didn’t say nothing about no trouble. You just keep on, boy, and you’ll find my fist down the back of your throat. Now get out of my way.’ He pushed past Kelso, who staggered back against the bar, then thrust his way through the crowd, the more observant and wiser drinkers stepping back from his path.