DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2

by Phillip Strang

  Knox knew the police were not fools, and, if it were not for the murders, the club’s activities would be investigated further. Then they would find the videos of the customers with the girls, the profits from selling them on the internet, the fact that most of the girls were selling themselves, and he was their pimp. He made a phone call to someone who understood.

  ‘I can’t protect you for much longer,’ Knox said. ‘If Helen hadn’t been killed, no one would have ever known about Aberman, and nobody would have visited this club.’

  ‘Why are you calling me now? That was never agreed to.’

  ‘Am I the only one living who knows the truth?’

  ‘You’ll not speak.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You only live as long as you are of use.’

  ‘And what use am I?’

  ‘I may have need of you in the future.’

  ‘That was the last time, I told you that before.’

  ‘If I go down, you go down, and I know of your history, what you are capable of. You were put in that club to ensure the truth was never revealed. You have served your purpose well, but you are not indispensable.’

  ‘What about Gus? He did what was expected, but he’s in jail.’

  ‘He was never important. Knox, don’t call me again. If I need you, you’ll be contacted.’

  Knox walked around the club, surveyed his domain. He had enjoyed it once, but now he despised it, and all on account of one man. He knew his life was forfeit if he stayed, but how could he leave? Wasn’t that how they operated, those who had killed Aberman and the others? Hidden behind the scenes, nameless, while others did their dirty work, suffered for them. If he went to the police with what he knew, what could they do? They could not protect him, not totally, and there were crimes he was answerable for, crimes they would not turn a blind eye to. He walked backed to his office. The club was due to open in another hour, and his new doorman did not know the ropes yet. He needed training.

  ***

  Wendy Gladstone had not been satisfied with Ben Aberman’s widow’s reason for being at the house in Bray. She decided to visit her at her home in Chelsea. She found the woman in a good mood.

  ‘I’ve secured the house in Bray,’ Christine Aberman said.

  ‘It’s a good job his body was found,’ Wendy said. She had had a restless night with arthritis and was not in the mood for polite conversation.

  ‘This house has been good to us, but my husband, he wants the quiet life, the same as I do, and with its sale, we’ll be able to retire. I may even join in some of the village activities.’

  ‘How long have you known that your husband was dead?’

  ‘Ever since you found his body.’

  ‘How long have you suspected?’

  ‘For a few years. Our marriage ended, but it wasn’t acrimonious. He used to keep in touch on an occasional basis, birthday card, that sort of thing, and then nothing.’

  ‘You didn’t approach the police with your concerns?’

  ‘What did I have? The former owner of a strip joint has disappeared. What would you have done?’

  ‘His disappearance would have been registered as a missing person.’

  ‘Exactly, and then, even if the police were interested, there’d be the dumb questions. Why did a strip club owner disappear? What makes you think he’s dead? Was he involved in drug dealing, prostitution, illegal sex-trafficking? My husband would not appreciate questions being asked about his wife’s first husband.’

  ‘You did nothing.’

  ‘There was nothing I could do. I still regarded Ben as a friend, but he had become an absent friend. In time, I forgot about him and moved on with my life.’

  ‘All the time knowing there was a house in Bray for you.’

  ‘It wasn’t that important. This house is paid off, we’re not short of money, and what if I had tried to declare him dead?’

  ‘The questions you were worried about,’ Wendy said.

  ‘If he hadn’t been found, we would have stayed living here. It’s a bit like winning the lottery. Before you win it, you survive. Afterwards, you wonder how you managed to live before.’

  ‘Slater, what can you tell me about him?’

  ‘We knew him, used him to purchase the house. Apart from that, not a lot. He’d sometimes come to the house in Bray, came to one or two of the parties, enjoyed himself.’

  ‘Did Slater take advantage of the women?’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘And it didn’t concern you?’

  ‘I was younger then, less critical.’

  ‘Was Daisy one of the women?’

  ‘She was there a few times, never Helen, if that’s what you’re going to ask.’

  ‘We know that Slater was present when your husband was murdered. Did you have any suspicions the man was crooked?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re a smart woman. You’re at a party with drunken men, whores. You must have formed an opinion.’

  ‘I knew the sort of men Ben associated with. He was not a dishonest man, but he was involved in a dishonourable profession. Slater, he was involved in shady deals, I know that.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Ben told me.’

  ‘Anything more?’

  ‘No more than that. I didn’t want the details.’

  Wendy could see the woman was not comfortable with discussing her past life. If she had been an innocent bystander, then why be nervous? If she was involved, then why deny it? Associating with criminals, ensuring there were women available, may not have been everyone’s idea of a party in the countryside, but it wasn’t necessarily illegal.

  ‘You’re holding back,’ Wendy said. ‘You couldn’t be married to a man for so many years and not be aware of what he was up to, who he was associating with.’

  ‘I can’t say any more.’

  ‘Can’t? Are you being threatened?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain.’

  ‘I’ve got all day,’ Wendy said.

  ‘Ben was associating with the wrong kind of people, I could see that. At first, the men at the parties were the same as Ben. Purely interested in having a good time, running clubs. At the last party I attended, this was three years before he disappeared, there had been an argument between Ben and another man. He had turned up at the door, and he wasn’t there for a good time.’

  ‘Who do you think it was?’

  ‘I had no idea at the time. He was well-dressed in a suit, in his late fifties. Apart from that, there’s not a lot I can tell you. The two men went into another room, Slater joined them, not that he was happy as he had been occupied in another room with one of the women. Thirty minutes later, all three men emerged, and they’re cheerful.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘Slater goes back to the woman, and the mysterious man leaves.’

  ‘What did Ben say?’

  ‘A minor dispute, that’s all.’

  ‘But you didn’t believe him.’

  ‘That’s when I knew he was in too deep. That’s when I decided not to attend any more parties.’

  ‘Did you ever meet Helen?’

  ‘Never. I knew he was playing the field, but I never knew who, and that’s the truth.’

  ‘This man you saw with your husband and Slater, does he frighten you?’

  ‘I remember his eyes. They were cold. He was an attractive man, not like some of the others. He was a man used to people doing what he wanted. He could have killed Ben.’

  ‘How do we find him?’

  ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘I know his name.’

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘Gerald Adamant.’

  Chapter 21

  The revelation of a tie-in between Helen Langdon’s former husband and a former lover came as a surprise to the team in Homicide. On the one hand, was a man known for his philanthropy, on the other, a man who had criminal connections.

  The team were in Isaac’s office at
Challis Street. ‘Is she certain?’ Isaac asked Wendy.

  ‘She didn’t make the connection at the time, knowing nothing about the man, other than what she had heard about him.’

  ‘She kept this quiet from us.’

  ‘She was the only one who saw him at the party, except for Aberman and Slater.’

  ‘And they’re both dead. She’s worried she’ll be next.’

  ‘Is there another side to Gerald Adamant we don’t know?’ Larry said.

  ‘The man’s always come across as clean,’ Isaac said. ‘Bridget, what do you have?’

  ‘Gerald Adamant, seventy-three when he died. The family money came through significant investments in Africa. It was his grandfather who made a fortune, his father who invested it wisely, and Gerald who devoted their wealth to worthy causes.’

  ‘Has he worked? What’s his education?’

  ‘He went to Eton, then Oxford, majoring in Economics. After university, he worked as an investment analyst at the family firm, did well according to the reports. On the death of his father, he appointed someone to run the company. He was a clever man, and there are no black marks against him. He married in his thirties, Archie and Abigail the result of that union. His wife died of cancer, he married again, a woman who’s twenty years younger than him. She had a child, Howard. The marriage broke down; they divorced. Howard stayed with the father; the mother took off overseas. After some years, Gerald Adamant married Helen Langdon. The rest you know.’

  ‘We need to know what Adamant was doing with Aberman,’ Larry said.

  ‘But how? There’s no one alive to tell us now,’ Wendy said.

  ‘There are Adamant’s children,’ Isaac said as he picked up his phone. ‘Mr Adamant, we need to talk.’

  ‘If it’s important.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘We can meet at the house, two hours.’

  ‘Your sister and brother?’

  ‘I can’t answer for them. If you want them there, you can give them a call.’

  ‘That’ll not be necessary. We want to talk to each of you individually.’

  Isaac and Larry arrived at the Adamants’ house earlier than the two hours. Isaac parked the car on the gravel driveway and looked around him. He and Larry walked over to the expansive lawn in front of the house; a peacock strolled by.

  ‘The upkeep must cost plenty,’ Larry said.

  ‘There’s no shortage of money. I checked out the Adamants’ investment company on the internet. They posted record profits at the end of the last financial year.’

  ‘I hope this is important,’ Archie Adamant said once the three of them were seated in the library.

  ‘It is. Mr Adamant, did your father know Ben Aberman?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge, but I wouldn’t have known all his movements or all his acquaintances.

  ‘You know who he is?’

  ‘I was at Helen’s trial, and Aberman’s been on the television. I know he was Helen’s lover before she met my father.’

  ‘Apart from a shared history through Helen, we were unaware that the two men knew each other.’

  ‘Did they?’

  ‘We have a witness to them meeting the one time at Aberman’s house in Bray.’

  ‘Then I can’t help you. Our father never mentioned it. Is it suspicious?’

  ‘We’re not sure. Two months after their acrimonious meeting, Aberman disappears, now known to have been murdered. And Nicholas Slater, Aberman’s lawyer, who was also present at their meeting, was shot in the head as he was just about to tell us who is behind the group that took over Aberman’s businesses.’

  ‘Are you implying that my father was a criminal?’

  ‘What do you reckon? Your father could have been involved in Aberman’s death. He couldn’t have been involved in Slater’s.’

  ‘Are you accusing me of Slater’s murder?’ Adamant said.

  ‘We’re police officers. We’re putting forward scenarios, evaluating reactions, exploring the possibilities.’

  ‘You’ll get no reaction from me, other than disdain that you could consider my father was involved.’

  ‘If your father was involved with Aberman’s death, you could be involved with Slater’s.’

  ‘That’s illogical and insulting.’

  ‘Why? You’ve got money, a good life. Maybe it’s a little boring, the same as it was for your father. He met Aberman, sensed an opportunity for adventure. He’d not be the first honest person to be seduced by the glamour of crime.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that Helen passed herself on to our father after her lover was murdered?’

  ‘I wasn’t, but it’s possible. What if Helen knew about your father? What if she saw her survival in aligning with him, playing the dutiful wife? The greatest confidence trick of all time, the charming older man, the devoted younger wife. How much did they manage to scam out of your father’s rich friends?’

  ‘You cannot continue to denigrate the memory of my father with such nonsense. He loved Helen, she loved him, and as for this criminal theory, that’s all it is.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. But if it’s proved right, she was more calculating than we had previously thought. If her lover is killed, and she knows she’s about to die as well, she then inveigles her way into your father’s affections. And when she is ready, she killed your father. Did you, Mr Adamant, love her too? Don’t answer. I know what it is.’

  ‘Everyone loved her, even Howard. That’s how it was with the woman.’

  ‘And once she’s got you all where she wants you, she kills your father, calls for your sister.’

  ‘But Helen went to prison.’

  ‘She had weighed up the options. It was either a sentence for first-degree murder or, with mitigating circumstances, it’s second-degree or manslaughter. She’s prepared to do her time, but along comes James Holden. He falls for her, uses his influence, and she’s out in four years.’

  ‘What sort of woman could contemplate such a thing?’

  ‘A woman who would have made plans. And once she was out of prison, you gave her a flat, money as well. Did she sleep with you by way of thanks?’

  ‘No. She was too good a person for that.’

  ‘Which means you loved her, saw yourself as not worthy. Is that why you killed her? Who was it who phoned you? Daisy? The concierge?’

  ‘This is all wrong. I’m not guilty of what you have said. As to why our father was with Aberman and Slater, I don’t know,’ Archie Adamant said.

  ***

  ‘It’s a good theory,’ Larry said as he and Isaac drove away from Adamant’s house.

  ‘Can you believe that Gerald Adamant is the Mr Big of the group that took over Aberman’s business and then killed him?’ Isaac said.

  ‘It’s not impossible. Could Helen maintain this hatred for so long, and then kill Adamant for no return?’

  ‘Her parents may be able to shed some insight on the woman.’

  ‘Then we’d better go and visit them,’ Larry said.

  ‘I’ll go with Wendy. She can talk to the mother,’ Isaac said.

  Frank and Betty Mackay were pleased when Isaac and Wendy knocked on their door. ‘We’ve not been far since it happened,’ Frank said. ‘We talk about her all the time. What she had done, where she had been. It’s still hard sometimes, but we battle on.’

  ‘A cup of tea, Mrs Mackay?’ Wendy said.

  ‘Please excuse my bad manners. I’ll go and put the kettle on.’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  In the kitchen of the small house, Wendy took the opportunity to speak to Helen’s mother. ‘Mrs Mackay, we’re confused. We can’t decide whether your daughter is the victim of an unforeseen chain of circumstances or whether she had been manipulating them.’

  ‘She still died in that hotel room,’ the mother replied. Wendy could see that she was still emotional.

  ‘That doesn’t make sense, I’ll agree, but before that, even before she started working in the Dixey Club, what was she like
?’

  ‘She was a lovely child, always cared for us. Even then, she was the one the school friends gravitated to. I can’t remember how many times she had them over here, always happy, playing the music too loud.’

  It was clear to Wendy that Helen Langdon’s mother wanted to remember the child, not the adult, not the victim of a murderer’s bullet. ‘After Helen left school, where did she go?’ Wendy knew, but she wanted the woman to open up.

  ‘University, and then to an accountant’s firm in London. We thought she was going to be okay.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Sometimes with Helen, we couldn’t be sure what she was thinking. I’d ask, only to be told, “It’s nothing, Mum, nothing to worry about”.’

  ‘But you did worry.’

  ‘Maybe if I had seen it.’

  ‘Seen what?’

  ‘A coldness towards people. She would be friendly, loving with us, but she could be remote at times.’

  ‘Intelligent?’

  ‘Exceptional. It certainly didn’t come from us. She rarely studied for an exam, just seemed to breeze through.’

  ‘Photographic memory?’

  ‘They said it was at the school.’

  ‘Why did she leave the accountant’s and go and work in Dixey’s?’

  ‘She never attached much importance to her looks.’

  ‘She was beautiful,’ Wendy said.

  ‘It meant nothing to her. She knew she had this ability over people, and she knew how to manipulate them.’

  ‘Did you have problems with young men when she was in her teens?’

  ‘We knew she was sleeping with one or two of them. I questioned her once about it. She told me not to worry as she had no intention of falling pregnant or in love.’

  ‘What did you and your husband do?’

  ‘Apart from worry? There wasn’t a lot we could do, and she never snuck a boy into the house. In fact, we never saw her with a steady boyfriend. Occasionally she’d meet one, do what she wanted, and come home.’