DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2

by Phillip Strang

  ‘My apologies,’ Ralph said. ‘Helmsley, I don’t trust you, you know that. I don’t even like you, never have, but you have a right to my son’s friendship.’ He didn’t know why he had said what he had. He did not believe it for one minute.

  ‘Michael needs our help, and you need mine,’ Helmsley said, going into charm mode.

  Ralph left the flat and went downstairs and out onto the street. It was a bright night, and he looked up at the sky.

  A car pulled up alongside him, the same BMW 7 Series that he had been in once before. Ralph reacted with alarm and attempted to move away and back to the safety of his flat. As he approached the main door to the building, an arm blocked his way. ‘Mr Frost wants to see you,’ its owner said.

  Ralph looked around and then up at where the voice had come from. It was one of Frost’s heavies. ‘I have an arrangement with Mr Frost. My time’s not up.’

  ‘Mr Frost, he wants to have a little chat, remind you of the seriousness of the situation. That’s what he told me, anyway.’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘Today. He said you needed reminding.’

  Ralph could only remember the first blow that hit him in his stomach outside his block of flats. After that, a blur as he was manhandled into the back of the BMW, his head pressed firmly down into the footwell.

  ‘Ralph, you hung up on me,’ Frost said when Ralph regained consciousness.

  Ralph realised that he could not move. He struggled, felt ropes binding his arms that were stretched skywards. He could see the beam above him. He felt the wetness in the crotch of his trousers.

  ‘What is this? What have I done?’

  ‘You’ve forgotten our agreement, haven’t you? I’ve been told that you and your ex-wife are getting cosy.’

  ‘You’ve been spying on me,’ Ralph said. He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable, his feet barely touching the ground, his right leg cramping up, the rope biting into his wrists.

  ‘Protecting my investment, that’s all.’

  Ralph wanted to tell the man he was a liar, but he knew that his situation was precarious. He was strung up as if he were a side of beef in a butcher’s shop, or maybe freshly slaughtered and in an abattoir. He was confused, not sure what to do, not sure if he would leave the warehouse alive, or if he did, if he would be able to walk again.

  ‘You’ve soiled yourself,’ Frost said. ‘We’re only here for a little chat, nothing more.’

  ‘But I’m hanging here. Let me down, please.’

  ‘If you insist, but my men will stay nearby. If our conversation is not to my satisfaction, you know what will happen.’

  ‘I do.’ With that the rope that had been holding the frightened man was loosened, and Ralph collapsed onto the ground. Picking himself up, he sat down on a wooden chair that was to one side of him, the wetness in his trousers causing him discomfort and acute embarrassment.

  ‘Now when will I see my money?’

  ‘Next week, as I told you.’

  ‘Your time is running out. And remember, the interest accumulates. Your wife is an attractive woman, so I’ve been told. It’d be a shame if she had an accident, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Leave her alone. Your issue is with me.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Ralph. Before, it was with you, but now you have a sister, a son, a lover. Any of them will do if you fail to pay me back. Today would be better, tomorrow at the latest. If you want another week, that’s fine, just add another eighty thousand pounds to your pay-out.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  ‘I can’t get that sort of money. My sister won’t help.’

  ‘Then maybe we should talk to her first. I’m sure she will want to see you safe. Or what about her husband? He’s got himself a good business, lots of rich clients. How many children does she have? Two, isn’t it?’

  ‘You bastard. You would do anything to anybody for your benefit.’

  ‘You would cheat poor gullible tourists out of their retirement funds. We are very much alike, you and me, Ralph. Neither of us has too many morals. The only difference is that I use violence as a tool.’

  ‘And what if I don’t pay?’

  ‘You know what will happen. I’m giving you another week, interest-free.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I like you, or maybe you’ll need that week to recover, let the others see what will happen. Maybe your wife can convince the old man in Antigua to help. Your sister, what will she do? Help you out?’

  ‘Give me a week, and you’ll have your money,’ Ralph said, his body shaking from cold and fear. A rat scurried by. Over to one side, lying on the floor, his jacket and shirt.

  ‘Boys, you know what to do,’ Frost said.

  The first that anybody else knew was when Homicide received a phone call from the hospital.

  ‘It’s Ralph Lawrence,’ Bridget Halloran said as she walked into Isaac’s office. ‘He’s in casualty. He’s been severely beaten.’

  Chapter 20

  Jill Dundas smiled when she heard about Ralph Lawrence and his accident, falling off a roof and onto a concrete floor. At least that was what Ralph had said it was, his own silly damn fault for not looking where he was going.

  The team at Homicide were under no illusion, even if the man in the hospital bed said otherwise. He had received a severe beating. Sure, as the doctor had said, he had a dislocated shoulder, but there was no way that the bruising on his body had been caused by anything other than a man’s fists.

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Ralph said, his son on one side of his bed, his sister on the other, a nurse hovering nearby checking his temperature, ensuring that he was comfortable.

  ‘Why lie to us, Mr Lawrence?’ Isaac said, even though he understood why. It wasn’t the first time that a man had lain in a hospital bed, too frightened to tell the truth.

  ‘Why protect those who did this to you? You could have been killed.’

  ‘I wasn’t, that’s all. I’ve no more to say. Can’t you accept that?’

  ‘Leave my father alone,’ Michael said. ‘Can’t you see he’s in agony?’

  ‘You’re playing this wrong,’ Larry said. He had seen the flowers arranged around the room, noticed one bunch from Jill Dundas, another from Yolanda, now on a plane back from the Caribbean, her credit card revalidated. Another bunch from a mysterious sender, just a blank card, the only words ‘Get well soon’ printed in bold letters on one side in red. That one needed checking out.

  ‘Whoever did this, they’ll be back,’ Isaac said. ‘These people are professionals. Your only protection is with us.’

  Ralph stirred in his bed, attempted to sit up, grimaced in pain, and lay down again. ‘It was an accident. My fault for being on that roof. It wasn’t that high, maybe fifteen feet, and I thought I’d be fine.’

  Caroline Dickson came close to her brother and whispered in his ear.

  ‘What did you just say, Mrs Dickson?’ Isaac said, having noticed the sister leaning in near the brother, but not able to hear what was said.

  ‘I just gave him my love. He’s my brother, I care.’

  ‘Mrs Dickson, let me remind you. If you and your brother, even Michael here, are concealing the truth, for whatever reason, it could have serious repercussions.’

  ‘We’ve broken no law,’ Michael said.

  ‘The law you can deal with. Whoever did this is not held back by rules or regulations or the law. They believe they’re invincible, and they’ll be back. Maybe not today or next week, not even for a few months, but mark my words – these are dangerous men who could have killed Mr Lawrence but chose not to for a reason. And we all know why, don’t we?’

  ‘Do we?’ Caroline said.

  ‘They want something. This is a warning, and none of you here is capable of standing up to whoever it is. If they can’t get it through Ralph, they’ll get it another way.’

  ***

  The inevitable presence of Chief Superintendent Richard Goddard in Isaa
c’s office, not that anyone could blame him, certainly not in Homicide. The savage beating of Gilbert Lawrence’s son was a development, the first for some time.

  ‘Are you sure he was meant to live?’ Goddard asked. He was sitting across from Isaac. In one corner, a potted plant that Bridget and Wendy had given Isaac some time ago after another of his failed romances. On the wall, a picture of Isaac when he had graduated from university, his face beaming, proudly holding his certificate.

  ‘We don’t know who it was,’ Isaac said. ‘But we’re sure he didn’t fall off that roof. Why would someone risk bringing attention to themselves? It’s not as if Ralph Lawrence received any money from his father. He’s currently renting a two-bedroom flat, nothing special, and his son’s there as well.’

  ‘His sister did, and what about his ex-wife? Plenty of money there.’

  ‘We’re investigating all scenarios. Nothing’s certain, but we believe Ralph’s owing money to someone, and he’s having trouble paying.’

  ‘Evidence?’

  ‘None, just a hunch. We’ve seen it before. There’s no point killing the borrower. A few days in the hospital, a few broken bones, and the borrower’s more compliant, may even commit a crime to pay it back.’

  ‘Loan shark?’

  ‘Gangsters, loan sharks, even one of the man’s dubious friends. It wouldn’t be the first time Ralph Lawrence has found himself in hot water. He may have meted out similar treatment to others when he had been flush with money.’

  ‘Whatever, whoever, don’t take long on this one. Questions are being asked.’

  ‘They always are,’ Isaac said. As much as Isaac respected his senior, it was as if the man was playing the same old record. There was always a budgetary issue, the key performance indicators were down, he needed the current murder solving, or there was pressure from above.

  Although the pressure, as both of the men knew, was through the office of Commissioner Alwyn Davies, the head of the London Metropolitan Police, a man who did not rule by consensus and professional leadership but by adroit political manoeuvring and intimidation. Goddard and Isaac were very much in the man’s line of sight, having crossed swords with Davies on more than one occasion, and the commissioner wasn’t a man to forget. To both of the men, how Davies survived was of concern, but as Goddard had said before, get on and do your job, I’ll deal with the commissioner.

  With the superintendent out of the office, Isaac called in the team. It was still early in the morning, the best time Isaac always thought to formulate the actions for the day.

  Wendy Gladstone was first in, closely followed by Bridget Halloran, the office supremo, and then Larry Hill, Isaac’s detective inspector.

  ‘Find out who gave Ralph Lawrence a good beating, is that it?’ Larry said.

  ‘Critical, but his sister knows something. We need to talk to her first.’

  ‘Before we plan the day’s activities, let’s recap on yesterday. Bridget, what do you have?’

  ‘More details from Spain as to what Lawrence was up to. The man’s associate was released from prison two weeks after Ralph Lawrence returned to England. He cleared out any bank accounts and disappeared, left a string of debts behind him.’

  ‘Debts someone wants to be paid?’

  ‘The company had leased a couple of vehicles through a local company, and the premises they operated from were owned by a local businessman. Apart from that, and the tradesmen who fixed up the office, there doesn’t appear to be anyone with any criminal connections.’

  ‘It depends on whether Lawrence’s colleague borrowed from loan sharks,’ Isaac said.

  ‘There’s no way to find out, and besides, that’s a Spanish problem. If Lawrence is beaten up here, and there were signs that his wrists had been bound and he was missing one shoe when found, then he almost certainly borrowed in England. Any idea how much?’

  ‘Not yet. It’s not a loan that would have been registered.’

  ‘Any luck with bank accounts?’

  ‘We know that the scam in Spain had almost two million pounds in a local bank. The Spanish police have supplied us some information, not all.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They’re investigating a crime in their country. We’re not the most important, although they’ve been helpful up to a point.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A murder in England is not their priority. The current government is attempting to cut down on corporate crime, scamming of tourists. The normal thing that gets the country a bad reputation, keeps the tourists away, as well as the genuine investors. The police, no doubt, are feeling the heat. The only person I’ve been in contact with is a junior officer, good English, and she’s tried her best.’

  ‘Should we ask Chief Superintendent Goddard to speak to his counterpart in Spain?’ Wendy said.

  ‘’It won’t help,’ Bridget said. ‘You soon hit bureaucracy, and the wheels will grind slowly.’

  ‘Bridget’s right,’ Isaac said. ‘Any indication as to how much Ralph might have borrowed?’

  ‘There was a cash injection into one bank account of four hundred thousand pounds. It may not be money that Lawrence borrowed, but it seems possible. The money had been transmitted by an offshore bank, and the bank’s not telling whose account, but I’ve been on to Fraud, and they reckon it’s probably an English account holder.’

  ‘Okay, enough said. We need to find whoever gave our man Ralph a few days in the hospital. Bridget, keep checking, Wendy, you can come with me to see Caroline Dickson.’

  ‘I’ll get down on the street. Start checking out who’s lending big,’ Larry said.

  ‘We’re dealing with someone who’s not averse to violence, and a police officer may not scare him. Easy enough to take him out, never to be found again,’ Isaac said.

  ‘I’ll find out a few names first, and then we’ll discuss it. After that, we can figure out what to do.’

  ***

  Caroline Dickson agreed to an interview at her house.

  ‘Mrs Dickson, I need to caution you,’ Isaac said. ‘There is vital information that you are withholding from us, we know that now.’

  ‘I’ve been totally honest with you, so has my husband,’ Caroline said.

  ‘Your brother is in trouble, and you know it. He told you something in the hospital.’

  ‘He’s borrowed money he can’t pay back.’

  ‘Are you going to help?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a lot of money, and these people can’t be trusted.’

  ‘If they can do that to him,’ Isaac said, ‘they are capable of more, even murder.’

  ‘Ralph’s frightened, and he told me not to tell you. It complicates matters.’

  ‘Not for us, it doesn’t. Your father’s murder, could it be related?’

  So far nobody in the Lawrence family knew of Molly Dempster’s remarkable confession. The revelation that Ralph was her son may well have provoked an interesting reaction from Caroline, but now was not the time and place. Ralph was in the hospital not because of who his mother was, but because of his father. Isaac could see Gilbert’s death as related, but it was a long shot.

  ‘My father’s death, why?’ Caroline said. ‘He was old, not in good health, and he would not have lived forever.’

  ‘Five, ten years, long enough for someone to have become nervous, become desperate. Now we know your brother didn’t kill him, proof from the Spanish police on that one, and we’ve ruled out Molly Dempster.’

  ‘Molly’s a saint, always has been. She brought us up as if we were her own children,’ Caroline said, showing more affection for the woman than she did for her brother.

  Wendy looked over at Isaac, saw an imperceptible shake of his head. Both the police officers knew that the woman had said something closer to the truth than she would ever know. It was clear that at some stage Ralph would have to be told. He was illegitimate, the bastard son of a wealthy man and the family housekeeper. Further scandal for a family that had had its fair share. A
nd how would Caroline take the news? Would she distance herself from her half-brother? Neither shared an unbreakable bond; maybe when they were younger, but they had spent many years apart, and Caroline led a decent life with a man she loved, whereas Ralph had become disreputable, a disgrace to his father and to her. Caroline’s children were upstanding members of society, Ralph’s son was struggling to find his way, full of the weaknesses that had blighted his biological father.

  ‘Molly had lived above the garage, and then spent the remainder of her time looking after your father, only once venturing into the main house. Doesn’t that sound strange to you?’ Isaac said.

  ‘That was Molly. She was just a good person. You’ll never find either Ralph or myself say a bad word against her. And as for killing our father, not possible. Even if she suspected what was upstairs, it would not have changed her. She was devoted to my parents, even loved them.’

  ‘Explain love,’ Wendy said.

  ‘A deep friendship. Once, my mother, I was in my teens by then, told me that if something happened to her, I was to ensure that Molly was looked after.’

  ‘What did you take that to mean?’

  ‘I was in my teens, the silly teens, too much alcohol, too many late nights, and no doubt too many unsuitable men. She was trying to tell me something, but I wasn’t listening that closely, trying to get out of the house. Molly came in, and that was the end of the conversation.’

  ‘You’re older now. What do you think she meant?’

  ‘The love that Molly felt for my mother was sisterly. For my father it was romantic. We always knew, Ralph and me. Sometimes we’d tease her, not that she said or did anything, only smile. Our mother wanted Molly to be with our father if she was not there.’

  ‘Did your mother sense an early death?’

  ‘Sometimes she would have these episodes where she would need to be confined to the house. No doubt she would have been suicidal, into self-harming.’