Blood Substitute (19 page)

‘At the very, very worst a few cuts and bruises,' Patrick replied soothingly. Was he aware that any security engendered by his words had been somewhat negated by being uttered through a wolfish smile?

‘Who though? Got anyone in mind?'

‘You.'

‘Me!'

‘You're quite perfect,' he was assured.

‘I don't think we ought to bring SOCA's name into this.'

‘It needen't be. You'd just be described to the media as a top policeman involved with the capital's serious crime.'

Greenway pondered for a few moments and then said, ‘I'll have to sleep on that. I suggest we meet here tomorrow morning when Carrick's arrived to allow us to collate everything we've got and then decide what to do next. We might have initial findings from the arson investigators in Bristol by then too.' He collected his possessions and we all moved to leave. ‘I tell you what though,' he added as he held the door open for us. ‘I'd be willing to incur a few cuts and bruises to bring this bastard to justice.'

‘I
take it you've heard nothing from your father since the one email,' Greenway said to Carrick after the introductions had been made.

‘No, sir, nothing.'

‘Well, I hope to God the man's all right. What do you have for us?'

‘It amounts to a short presentation, I'm afraid, sir.'

‘Good, I'm sure we could all do with something like that to get it all straight in our minds. And you needn't bother with so many of the “sirs” – we're all in this together.'

It was obvious when the DCI produced a new file from his document case and what followed that he had worked on it for most of the night.

‘It's fairly obvious but we must remind ourselves that this investigation started not with Sergeant Cliff Morley's murder but before that when this off-shoot of a London gang went on a crime spree in Bristol and the surrounding area,' he began. ‘There are other off-shoots in various towns and cities in the west of England and Superintendent Reece has a theory that all are masterminded by the head of the London mob and that the comparitively recent Bristol set-up came about as a result of a disagreement within the command structure. He has no real evidence to back this up, only the words of grassers and informers, one of the former, now in prison, being credible. I have to say at this point that it is regrettable that F9 is not in a position to share their intelligence with us.

‘Robberies, thefts of top-of-the-range cars, often at knife-point – I'm sure you're familiar with the tally – all commited with an arrogance and callousness that can only be described as breathtaking. We have a description of a very tall man who would appear to be the brains behind all this but has subsequently been discovered to be, ostensibly, the managing director of Slaterford and Sons, calling himself Steven Ballinger. Prior to this discovery Sergeant Morley was making enquiries about this man when he was murdered. I need not dwell on the details of his death. Two other men were then murdered, all had been mutilated and the initials RK carved on their torsos. Robert Kennedy, a senior operative of F9, maintains that this is in an effort to get him blamed for the killings as he has infiltrated the Bristol gang. It would now appear that Kennedy has left the area to try to prevent any more killings but we know nothing of his whereabouts or even his personal safety.

‘F9 raided the waterfront warehouse of Slaterfords but because of what I shall describe as a collision of police departments it was the Avon and Somerset Force who subsequently searched the place and found stolen property, weapons and a small amount of explosives. Ballinger was questioned at the store, refused to answer questions and was then taken to a city centre police station. Before he could be interviewed an armed gang broke him out of custody. The Avon and Somerset Force has now been relieved of all duties in this case.'

‘But for you,' Patrick said almost inaudibly.

‘They weren't removed from the scene because of any perceived lapses,' Greenway added. ‘It was just getting a little too crowded. Sorry, James, do go on.'

Carrick smiled his thanks. ‘And now of course we have the fire at the store, the investigation into which obviously the local police are involved. I understand the blaze is now out but the building is pretty much gutted, especially at the northern end and until the exterior walls and the remaining part of the roof are deemed not to be in danger of collapse no examination of the interior is being permitted. Due to the nature of the business it is impossible yet to know if anyone was trapped inside but it seems inconceivable to me that bodies won't be found in the rubble. Three were recovered from the entrance area while the blaze was being fought – it would appear that part of the ceiling came down on them as they tried to escape. Two people were killed when they threw themselves from upstairs windows in the staff room area at the rear and several more, staff and customers, were rescued when a turntable ladder arrived. In all, one hundred and seventy-five people escaped comparitively unharmed from the building.'

Without saying anything to Patrick I had rung the rectory at Hinton Littlemoor the previous evening. Thankfully, Elspeth and her friend had decided to give the sale a miss.

Carrick continued, ‘Survivors from members of staff have reported that when the fire alarm sounded all senior staff immediately disappeared and they got the impression they left the premises altogether. Questioned further some said they had never seen management taking any kind of leading role during fire practices. The fact that they would appear to have left at an early stage was confirmed early this morning when the underground car park was examined – it virtually escaped damage – and it was obvious that the only significant empty spaces were where you, Ingrid, said the cars drove off from before, the area nearest the exit.'

‘I simply can't believe anyone with arson in mind would start a fire when the place was full of people!' Greenway exclaimed. ‘If you're going to burn the bloody store down why not do it at night?'

‘To make it look as if it wasn't arson?' Patrick suggested.

‘If so they must have a very dim view of fire brigade investigators,' Carrick said disgustedly. ‘No, I reckon they set fire to it during the day as a two-finger salute to the police.'

We digested this for several seconds in silence and then Carrick said, ‘Something useful has emerged from this mess. A woman who suffered minor burns to her hands and face went to the police when she left A and E, said she was Steven Ballinger's PA and that she wanted to make a statement, to talk to someone senior, in fact. She actually seems to have acted as secretary to quite a few senior staff at the store. I understand she's being interviewed again this morning but the gist of what I was told last night is that she'd suspected for a while that something wasn't quite right with the place.'

Patrick butted in with, ‘Is she being given police protection?'

‘Armed protection,' Carrick answered.

‘I would like her to be brought here,' Greenway said.

‘I thought you would,' the DCI said. ‘I understand that Superintendent Reece will contact you this morning following what she says at the local nick to see if you think it worth bringing her all this way, with regard to her injuries and the fact that Miss—'

‘I want her here whatever she says,' was the uncompromising interruption from Greenway. ‘So Patrick can get the full story out of her.'

‘I'll go and borrow some thumbscrews from the Tower of London now,' Patrick said, half-rising from his seat.

Once you have a certain reputation it seems that you can never lose it.

Greenway waved him down. ‘No, no, all right. Sorry. I didn't mean that you'd beat the woman up.'

‘And the fact that Miss Dean is well over sixty years of age,' Carrick persevered.

‘So we'd better wait and see what Reece says,' Greenway decided. ‘Anything else?' he asked Carrick.

‘Yes. Just before the case's handover yesterday Reece's team discovered both Madderly Ritter's and Kyle Jeffers' addresses. From a snout they lent on heavily, I understand. I say “addresses” but Ritter had been roughing it in a squat as the girl he had recently moved in with – no, started living off – threw him out. Jeffers had a council flat in the St Pauls area of the city. It appears that a somewhat headstrong sergeant, Cunningham, ignored orders to leave well alone until other people had been consulted – in other words, you sir – and he and a couple of others broke in. The place is like a slaughterhouse – it was where they were tortured and killed. That's the next decision. Do you want them to send in their scenes-of-crime people or use your own?'

Greenway looked at Patrick who wordlessly intimated that it was Greenway's decision to make.

‘I can see no reason why they shouldn't investigate this,' the SOCA man said slowly. ‘And to put matters straight it wasn't at my behest that Avon and Somerset was removed from the investigation. Morley was their man so let them get on with it. I shall just need the findings, that's all.'

Patrick caught my gaze and smiled. This was noticed by the other two who immediately remembered my presence.

‘Any comments, Ingrid?' Greenway enquired.

‘Only one,' I said. ‘This man will pull another big stunt, commit another crime. He's probably raving mad. So if you're going to send Patrick undercover – F9 or no – then I suggest you do it quickly.'

‘We'll see what Miss … er …' Greenway glanced at his notes. ‘Dean, has to say first.'

Miss Phillipa Dean, it transpired, did not want any fuss made of her injuries, which she reckoned to be a minor inconvenience, and as she had a sister in west London would be delighted to talk to SOCA on condition that she was taken to her sister's home afterwards. When told that she would be taken to a safe house with her minder, plus a woman constable, where her sister could, if she wished, join her there was reluctant acquiescence.

By this time all of us were sick to death of sitting in offices, talking, and later that day, when Miss Dean was shown into the room, a different one, where the interview was to take place I knew we were doing our very best not to appear as world-weary as we felt. James Carrick was not present. It had been felt that four of us was at least one too many inquisitors. He was not far away though, liaising by phone with Paul Reece on the latest findings on the fire.

Greenway made the introductions and everyone sat down. The venue that had been selected was an informal one furnished with armchairs, a low table, reproduction paintings of old scenes of the city on the walls and even a small vase of flowers. Miss Dean was asked if she had been given refreshments but this was for politeness' sake as we knew already that she had, during which time we had read her statement. Greenway asked about her burns – a small dressing was affixed to her left cheekbone and there were others on the backs of her hands – and was told they were nothing. Further questioning revealed that she had acquired them in trying to push open a fire door in a smoke-filled corridor while clasping her bag to herself only to find that it was red hot. It seemed a miracle that she was here at all.

There was then a mutual eyeing-up.

I reckoned the lady easily to be in her early seventies, her face quite heavily lined, but it had been decided on my suggestion that nobody would be rude enough to ask how old she was. She had moved a little stiffly on entering the room but that could be more to do with sitting in a car for four hours than infirmity. Her hair, brown but greying, was piled on top of her head in an untidy bun, wisps escaping in what was actually a fashionable and engaging manner. And fashionable and poised she was, dressed in an expensive olive green dress and sleeveless jacket with self-coloured embroidery, a heavy amber necklace around her throat and matching earrings. Her eyes were the same colour as the green of her dress and now regarded us shrewdly and steadily.

Although it had also been decided that Patrick would put most of the questions to her Greenway opened the interview with, ‘Thank you for agreeing to come and for making this statement. It is all very businesslike and in it you express your suspicions but we need to flesh it out a little. Please forgive me for asking, but do you still find it necessary to work for financial reasons?'

Miss Dean was not offended. Speaking in her low, soft voice she said, ‘Well, I won't pretend the money wasn't useful to me. Adrian, my partner, and I go on holiday to Italy quite a lot. We're into gardens and architecture. He's a retired architect.' She smiled to herself. ‘We met at a nudist camp, as a matter of fact.'

‘So the salary wasn't the main reason for your going after a job at Slaterford and Sons?' Patrick asked blandly and heroically not smiling at all, no, not one bit.

‘It was
that
job I went after,' she corrected. ‘My typing was still quite good but Adrian taught me to use a computer. I've always been good with machines – I used to work at Bletchley Park.'

‘What, the code-breaking place?' Greenway exclaimed.

She nodded. ‘Yes, for over twenty years. Slaterfords was my last challenge. I told Adrian I didn't want to go completely to pot yet.'

‘Challenge?' Patrick echoed.

‘Yes, if ever a shop was run by a bunch of crooks it was that one. You only had to look at them, the senior staff, I mean, with their shifty eyes, to know that something was going on.'

‘So you took the job with a view to finding out more?' Greenway said.

‘Yes, my father was a detective-sergeant with the Met. But he refused to let me join the police. He said it was a most unsuitable job for a woman. Women belonged in the home, according to him. I have to say I hated him rather.' She sat up straight and severely addressing us all, added, ‘But this wasn't me trying to do a Miss Marple, you know.'