Buried in the Past (12 page)

To the astonishment of both detectives, Evangeline began to laugh, a rich, earthy chuckle.

‘Sorry, did I say something funny?’ Clara asked.

‘Yes, you certainly did, but you weren’t to know any better.’ Sister Evangeline paused for a moment. ‘And I can see how that
rumour might have got about, or at least originated.’ She saw Nash and Mironova exchange puzzled glances and explained. ‘The block of flats where Frankie lived was owned by her agent, and let for the most part to his own clients. I visited Frankie there several times, and on one occasion, I saw Callaghan, who I knew slightly, going into the building. I asked Frankie what he was doing there and she told me. Callaghan was having an affair, but not with Frankie. He was having the affair with a dancer who lived in the flat opposite hers.’

‘Can you remember what she was called? The dancer, I mean,’ Nash asked.

‘I think the name was Charles, but I may be wrong.’ Sister Evangeline’s tone was dry.

‘Charles? You mean Callaghan was…?’

‘Musical, I think the theatrical expression was. Gay, is what I believe is now the more acceptable term.’

‘Good heavens! Why didn’t that ever come to light?’ Clara asked.

‘Reputation,’ Evangeline told her laconically. ‘With a
reputation
as a hard man to maintain, that was hardly the sort of thing Callaghan would want his enemies to find out. Admittedly, he wouldn’t have been the first gangland figure to have such tastes, but the others generated such fear nobody dared mock them for it.’

‘You’re talking about the notorious twins, I assume?’ Nash stated.

‘That’s right, however, one thing I can tell you for certain, if Ray did kill Callaghan, then jealousy over Frankie certainly wasn’t the motive. Now, I’ve answered a lot of questions about things that happened a long time ago. I think it’s time you answered some of mine, about things that are going on now.’

It was over an hour later when Nash’s car pulled away from the grounds of the religious order, but instead of returning the way they had come, Nash followed Clara’s directions, setting them on course for Newcastle.

Trevor Thornton leaned across the driver and peered down the lane towards the holiday cottage. ‘That’s it, down that track. Stop the car here. That place is a bit of a comedown for Lady High and Mighty
Corinna,’ he muttered. ‘There’s one of the cars parked outside. Drive round that bend and see if there’s a place to stop where we can’t be seen from the house.’

Mr Muscle drove slowly for the fifty yards that took them behind a small copse. Thornton pointed to a small gravel area to one side of the road. ‘Perfect, pull in there.’ His henchman swung the Mercedes off the tarmac, the vehicle bumping over the uneven surface before coming to a halt, shielded from view by the trees’ summer foliage. ‘Stay there,’ Thornton instructed him. ‘I’m going to take a dekko.’

Mr Muscle watched with some amusement as Thornton
struggled
to climb over the post and rail fence that surrounded the small strip of woodland. His small, rotund frame and short, plump legs were hardly suited for such athletic activity.

Not without difficulty, Thornton made it and paused, panting slightly from the unaccustomed exertion. Now he was faced with another, even trickier obstacle. From a distance, the trees had looked to be easy to walk through. It was only when Thornton inspected the terrain close to that he found his way barred by a dense patch of briar and bramble that had grown over the years to almost head height, especially for someone as vertically challenged as Mr T.

After some minutes, Thornton spotted a gap in the undergrowth, or rather a small area where the vegetation wasn’t quite as thick. He forced his way through this, at the cost of several scratches on his hands, his neck and his cheek, and was rewarded when he reached the edge of the wood with an uninterrupted view. Across the field, in which were a surprisingly large number of sheep, Thornton could see directly into the cottage windows, but although he watched for some considerable time, spotted no sign of life. From this distance, it was impossible for him to gauge how easy it would be to enter the property. Going closer was not an option, not until they were ready to act. What he needed was to take another look. But in order to do that, he would need a pair of binoculars. And possibly a pair of gloves.

‘Shaw!’

The DS looked up. ‘Yes, Guv’nor?’

‘My office, now.’

Shaw followed his superior into the glass-walled cubicle in the corner of the main CID room. There was already one occupant, a young man of little more than twenty years of age, or so Shaw guessed.

‘Last week, when you were asking for all that info about Max and Ray Perry and their organization, what prompted it?’ Shaw’s boss asked.

‘It wasn’t for me. I had a phone call from DI Nash in North Yorkshire. He wanted as much background as we had.’

‘Mike Nash? Why is he interested in them? Is he doing a degree in modern history or something?’

Shaw smiled. He glanced across at the third occupant before replying. The meaning of the look wasn’t lost on Shaw’s superior. He apologized and introduced the young man, adding, ‘I’d better explain.’

After he told Shaw of the reason for the young man’s presence, he continued, ‘After we spoke last week I was talking to our commander and happened to mention that you and I had been discussing Max Perry. I only said it because I knew he was
marginally
involved in investigating some of the crimes being committed by the various gangs around that time. He told me that this gentleman’ – he indicated the young man – ‘had been to see him about six months ago, but they were unable to act on the
information
he gave back then. However, he thought it worthwhile asking
him to come and visit us, so that we can hear his tale, although even now I’m not sure whether there is much we can do about what he has to say.’ The DCI nodded to the young man, ‘Please tell DS Shaw what you told me.’

Shaw listened carefully and went on to explain what he had been told about Thornton’s sudden departure to Yorkshire in search of diamonds.

‘It seems as if things have kicked off again,’ the DCI said, summing up, ‘although why that has happened now is as much of a mystery as what happened back then. I think for the time being the best thing to do is for you to let Nash know about all this. It may be of some help to him, even if at the present moment I can’t for the life of me think how.’

Shaw rang the Helmsdale number, only to be told that Nash was out with his DS and wasn’t expected back until the following day. Shaw left a message for Nash to ring him back. The news he had for him was over a quarter of a century old. Another twenty-four hours wasn’t going to make any difference.

Next morning, Sergeant Binns handed Nash a note. ‘This came in yesterday whilst you and Clara were sightseeing in the borders,’ Binns told him.

‘It was hardly sightseeing; we were interviewing a witness,’ Nash told him severely. ‘In CID we’re kept far too busy to waste time sightseeing, or doing sudoku puzzles,’ he added, staring
pointedly
at the open paper half-hidden by a folder on Binns’ desk.

As Nash walked away he was joined by Mironova. She studied the note he passed her. ‘What do you reckon this is about?’ she asked. ‘It’s only a few days since you spoke to Shaw, isn’t it? I wonder what’s happened since then?’

‘We’ll soon found out.’ Nash dialled the number and switched on the speaker so Mironova could hear both sides of the
conversation
. ‘Brian, it’s Mike Nash. I’ve DS Mironova with me. Sorry we were out yesterday.’

‘First off, Mike, my governor has been doing a bit of digging around and talked to one or two people here who know more about the Perry family, and he’s come up with a lot more background. You may know a lot of this already, but some of it could be new, and
there could be bits of it that are particularly relevant in the light of what happened yesterday.

‘Going back to the time just before Max Perry was murdered, from what we could gather he was already losing a lot of power and influence. The competition was fierce, especially from Callaghan’s mob and the triads, who were just beginning to flex their muscles. Both lots were better financed, because they were dealing in things Perry wouldn’t touch. Matters didn’t begin to improve until a while after Max’s death, and it was Phil Miller who started to turn the gang’s fortunes around. He disposed of the competition and began dealing in more lucrative products. He virtually took over the drugs trade in certain areas, as well as becoming heavily involved in the protection racket and providing a stable of high-class call girls. The cash flow from these operations and the influence that could be exerted by many of the call girls’ clients made him immune from prosecution.’

‘What does that mean?’ Clara asked.

‘It means that Miller was able to buy or obtain the best legal advice,’ Shaw replied. ‘I’m referring to the best solicitors,
barristers
and judges that money could buy – or persuade to offer their services by other means. Blackmail is the word that springs to mind. Again, much of this is rumour or hearsay, but I think it’s fairly informed gossip. Sadly,’ he added with a heavy sigh, ‘that also extends to include some police officers. Apparently, there was a lot of loose talk at the time about officers taking backhanders but nobody was ever brought to court – although there were a few suspiciously early retirements. Let’s face it, this sort of thing is by no means new, in fact from what I heard and read the big gangs that were operating in the sixties used to brag openly about the people they had on their payroll, from politicians to policemen.’ ‘Where’s all this leading?’ Nash asked.

‘Be patient, I’m getting there. By the time Miller had the old

Perry organization firing on all cylinders it had become the biggest, most powerful set-up in the capital, and that continued to be the case until recently, despite the new threats from the likes of the Eastern Europeans.’

‘When you said until recently, I take it something has happened
to change that?’

‘Again, it’s more rumour than hard fact, I’m afraid, but there’s a lot of evidence to back it up. The story is that Miller lost a shed load of money when an investment of his went sour, big time. I haven’t got the details, but the info comes from one of the guys in the Serious Fraud Office, so I think you can take it as genuine. From what they told my governor, Miller sank several million, more than even he could afford, into a company controlled by that American financier, the one who made off with all his clients’ money.’

‘That would certainly explain why Miller is so keen to get his hands on those diamonds all of a sudden.’

‘What prompted all the interest at your end, Brian?’ Clara asked.

‘It was after I mentioned your interest in Max Perry to my governor. He repeated the conversation to our commander, who remembered a visitor he’d interviewed a few months back, a young man who told him a most interesting story. The young man’s
grandfather
had died shortly before then, but before he died, he spoke to his grandson at great length, and told him a very strange tale, one which was in effect a death-bed confession. The old man was a diamond dealer who from time to time bought and sold diamonds on behalf of Max Perry. Apparently, Perry chose him because the old man was often able to purchase diamonds at a more favourable price than other dealers. Reading between the lines, I think that might have been because he didn’t enquire too closely into their source. This was certainly the case with the last transaction Perry asked him to undertake; a large consignment of blood diamonds. The order was placed and the couriers set off from the continent, bringing the stones which they would exchange for cash at a
prearranged
meeting point.’

‘What happened?’ Clara asked.

‘The stones never arrived. They vanished, along with the couriers and their car. As the old man told it, the supplier got a phone call shortly before the men set off, purporting to be from the London dealer, changing the venue for the exchange. The old man swore, and continued to maintain, even when he was dying, that he never placed that call. Soon after that Max Perry was murdered,
presumably
because the owner of the diamonds was convinced it was Max
who had double-crossed him. The old man told his grandson that he had been visited by a couple of heavies who roughed him up a bit, until he was able to prove that he had nothing to do with the heist.’

‘That can’t have been it, surely? They must have made more of an effort to recover the diamonds,’ Clara suggested.

‘I asked that same question,’ Shaw told them, ‘and he said that the owner and his grandfather hired a man to look for them. The man was a specialist, who had been very successful in tracing stones on behalf of mine owners in Africa, where diamond theft was rife.’

‘What happened, did he find anything out?’

Shaw’s reply stunned both Nash and Mironova into silence. ‘Nobody knows; he set off for England and was never seen or heard from again. He vanished as completely as the couriers had.’

‘The interest shown in those diamonds by Miller now would tend to suggest that Max Perry did have a hand in the theft,’ Nash said.

‘Yes, but that still doesn’t explain what happened to the stones,’ Clara pointed out, ‘unless someone else stole them from Max.’

‘Or unless the couriers did take them and are living it up in some tropical paradise,’ Nash suggested.

‘Both of which are really interesting theories,’ Shaw agreed. ‘But unfortunately, neither of them has a shred of evidence to back them up.’

Nash thanked Shaw for the information and promised to keep in touch as soon as they had anything to report. After he rang off, he looked across at Mironova. ‘I think I phrased that wrong,’ he told her, ‘I should have said if we ever have anything to report.’

Before she could reply, Nash’s phone rang. ‘Good morning, Professor,’ he said, ‘how can I help?’

He listened and Clara wondered what the pathologist had for them. It was obviously something of interest – she could tell by Nash’s frown of concentration. Eventually, he muttered his thanks and replaced the receiver. He stared at Mironova for several seconds, but Clara realized his thoughts were elsewhere.

After a while he said, ‘The professor’s received the DNA test
results on Graham Nattrass. The first thing he did was compare the profile to that of Ray Perry.’

‘Let me guess, Nattrass is Ray Perry’s son.’

‘Wrong! That was exactly what I thought, but apparently Graham Nattrass and Ray Perry aren’t related in any way, at least not blood relatives.’

‘Was that all Mexican Pete had to say?’ Clara tried hard to hide her disappointment at what seemed like yet another dead end.

‘No, there was far more. And what he did tell me was far stranger than our guess. He did find a close familial match to Graham Nattrass in the DNA database.’

‘Who might that be?’

‘That’s an exceedingly good question, and the answer is, we don’t know. Not by name, at least. However, Mexican Pete is one hundred per cent certain that Graham Nattrass is a close blood relative of the woman whose remains were found in the woods near Bishops Cross almost twenty-five years ago.’

Following the shock revelations of the link between the DNA from Graham Nattrass and the unidentified woman, the Helmsdale team met early the next morning. Nash phoned Netherdale and asked Tom Pratt to join them, given his involvement in what was now a reopened investigation.

Mironova began by updating Pearce and Pratt on the news supplied by Brian Shaw and Mexican Pete. Following which, Nash asked them for their thoughts and ideas. ‘I don’t care how wild or irrelevant they might seem,’ he told them, ‘in fact, the way things are, the wilder the better.’

If anything could have been guaranteed to cause silence, it was this request. For some time it seemed that none of them would come up with anything constructive, until eventually, and with a great deal of hesitation, Pearce suggested, ‘What about this woman, Corinna Perry? She seems to be the one constant in all this other than Ray Perry. She is the only link I can see between what happened then and events now. Do we know anything about her? Her background and character, I mean?’

Nash thought this over for a moment. ‘Not a great deal,’ he
admitted. ‘Wellings, the retired Met officer, told us she was involved in a lot of charity work, fund-raising and the like. He seemed to think she was a fairly decent sort of woman. I think he also said Corinna was a nurse or something, didn’t he?’

Clara nodded confirmation.

‘I reckon we ought to have another word with Sister Evangeline and see what she can tell us about Corinna Perry.’

‘Now that I think about it,’ Clara commented, ‘I got the impression Wellings might have been blinded by the fact that Corinna was an attractive woman.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘He seems that type. He positively drooled over that photo of Frankie Da Silva, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes off my legs.’

‘That wasn’t exactly what I meant,’ Nash said dryly. ‘Why do you think he might be wrong?’

‘Because, if Corinna is such a saint, how come she keeps taking up with really dodgy characters? Max Perry was an evil, violent gangster, and by what we’ve heard, this Phil Miller sounds a whole lot worse.’

‘On the birds of a feather theory? I guess that makes sense. Give Sister Evangeline a call and see if she can come up with any info on Corinna. If we can find out where she hailed from or where she worked, we might be able to talk to someone who knew her then and get some idea as to what makes her tick.’

Their plans had to be put into abeyance, for Clara reported to Nash, ‘Sister Evangeline has gone into Newcastle. She isn’t due back until this evening.’

‘In that case, leave me the number and I’ll call her, no doubt you’ll be on the phone all evening to your beloved.’

Nash’s intention that evening was thwarted for some time by a conversation with his son, regaling him with his continued success with the cricket bat. Once Daniel had rung off, Nash dialled Sister Evangeline’s number. ‘How are things?’ he asked, when she came to the phone.

He was encouraged by her response. She had, it seemed, been
coping very well. ‘I’ve been busy,’ she told Nash. ‘It’s far more complicated than I imagined it would be, although he has come out of the coma now and he does know me, Inspector. The doctors say that is very encouraging, especially after all these years. Fortunately, everyone has been very understanding, which has helped enormously. Was that why you rang?’