She noticed Dan nodding encouragement at her from the other side of the table, which made her feel a bit better. ‘Jane Poole, the hostel manager, said Paddy had not been back since the previous night. He was friends with a man called Spike, and Jane Poole knew where Spike slept – behind the chalets on the promenade. So, we went to see if Spike knew where Paddy had gone to.’
‘I disturbed Spike and his dog, first, ma’am,’ interrupted Adam. ‘The dog knocked DC Singh over, and Spike trod on her hand as he made his escape. I pursued Spike towards the town until DC Singh asked me to bring the car round to escort Paddy back to the station.’
Lizzie took back control. She was quite enjoying herself now. They were all listening so intently she could hardly feel her hand. ‘At that point, I heard more movement behind the chalet huts and suspected it might be Paddy. It was. He ran off but I apprehended him at the top of the path. He then told me to call DCI Hellier and say “Poseidon 1824” to him, which I did, ma’am. He then wrote a text on his own phone.’
‘Do you have anything further to add, DC Foster?’ asked Oliver.
‘No, ma’am.’
‘Right, thank you, both of you. You may return to your duties, and I’ll need those reports written up before you do anything else.’ Oliver checked her watch. ‘Let’s say half an hour, and email them straight to me. Okay?’
They jumped to their feet. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Off you pop then,’ she said.
* * *
They were quiet on their way into the corridor and on to the empty stairwell.
‘It’s MI5, isn’t it, Liz?’
‘I think you might be right. Or MI6. What the hell have we got ourselves into now?’ She jumped down the stairs two steps at a time.
‘Will you spellcheck my report before it goes in?’ asked Adam, leaping after her.
‘Of course I will, if you get the first round in later,’ she said. ‘I need a drink already and it’s only three o’clock.’ She stopped dead, swinging on the banister with her good arm. ‘Oh no, I’m going to have to type it up with one hand,’ she cried, shaking the offending splint. They rounded the corner and saw that the door to the MI room was now open. The room was still full of strangers, and the rest of their team looked up, mute and goggle-eyed, as they loped through the door.
33
A stranger sat at Lizzie’s desk. ‘Hi,’ Lizzie said, but got no response. She locked eyes with Sally Ellis across the room. Sally shrugged and went to make a drink.
‘They don’t talk,’ said Sam Knowles, who was leaning against the windowsill with his arms locked across his chest while his computer was being interfered with. ‘Even though I’ve got a murderer to find,’ he said to the woman who was downloading information to a memory stick, ‘apparently this is more important.’
The woman finished, pulled out the stick, stuck it in her pocket and said, ‘We do talk, just not to you. Okay everyone, if you’re ready, let’s go.’ The others removed their own sticks and got to their feet. ‘Thank you for your cooperation,’ she said as they left.
Bill Larcombe was the first to explode. ‘What the bloody hell was all that about? They come in here, lording it about, telling us what to do in our own station, interfering in our investigation …’
‘Bill.’
‘Not so much as a by your leave, please may we halt the unimportant work of catching an effing serial killer while we take stuff off your computers …’
‘Bill.’
‘Oh, “we don’t talk to the likes of you”, she says, stuck up …’ Larcombe spun round to face Dan standing in the doorway. He turned an unhealthy shade of scarlet.
‘Just sit down, everyone, please,’ Dan said, ‘then I can explain what has happened. It may actually help our case, Sergeant Larcombe, you’ll be pleased to know.’ Dan cleared his throat. ‘Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d say in a Devon nick: that, was MI5. To be specific, they were from GCHQ. A Commander Alice McCarthy was in charge. The Army reps were from Forty Commando Unit. When Lizzie said “Poseidon 1824”, and Paddy sent his text, it set up an alarm and they descended on us.’
‘By helicopter, sir,’ added Sam Knowles. ‘And how did they pick up the phrase from a police issue phone, I’d like to know?’
‘Quickest way here from Gloucestershire, Sam, and Paddy texted them, I think.
‘Anyway, it turns out Paddy was an undercover agent in Ireland during the Troubles. And he’s still working undercover now, but it turns out he should not have been in Exmouth at all. Not a coincidence, I’d say, and very interesting.’
‘Jane Poole said he only came to the hostel occasionally, sir,’ said Foster, ‘he wasn’t a regular. Perhaps he does another job in between times?’
‘But why was he hanging around with the two victims at this precise moment? That’s what I can’t get my head around. Who is he?’ Dan got up and wrote Paddy’s name on the board. ‘Suspect? Victim? Who knows?’
‘So, has he gone back with them?’ asked Lizzie.
‘Yes, they’ve taken him with them. I doubt we’ll see him again.’
‘But, we needed to question him about the murders.’
Dan threw up his hands. ‘Not our problem, now. Let it go, Lizzie. At least we know he’s safe – if he was the next target.’
‘That leaves a hell of a lot of questions unanswered, boss,’ complained Larcombe. ‘Like, what MI5 are doing in Exmouth pretending to be tramps, and what that has to do with our investigation, and wouldn’t it be polite if they mentioned that they were working in the area?’
‘No point fighting it, Bill, we need to get back on with hunting for our Fire Goddess, and hope we have thwarted her next mission. The spooks will never share what they’re up to.’
He turned to Foster. ‘I believe you got a positive ID on Dimp, or David Hamworthy?’
‘We did, sir, and I sent it straight along to Sam for research purposes,’ said Adam, ‘but I doubt he’s been able to do much with it in the circs.’
Quietly, Paula Tippett, the civilian researcher, held up her hand. ‘Sir, while those people were raiding the computers in here, I did a bit of work in the main office to help Sam. Turns out David Hamworthy was a marine, if only briefly. At Lympstone.’ She smiled at the moment of silence that greeted her contribution.
‘Bloody hell’s teeth, there is a link with the military, after all,’ said Bill Larcombe. ‘Maybe it’s not about the homeless?’ He jumped to his feet and altered the whiteboard to show Hamworthy as victim two, and linked him across to Simon Ongar, victim one. ‘Maybe you’re right, boss. Maybe Paddy was supposed to be victim three, but we’ve put him out of the picture.’ He gave a nasty chuckle. ‘Now what are you going to do, Fire Goddess? You can run, but you can’t hide …’
‘Well, I know what I’m going to do,’ said Dan. ‘Sergeant Ellis, get your coat. We’re going to speak to Colonel Allport again. He must have a clue what’s going on, and I think it’s about time someone explained this mess. The rest of you: reports. Don’t forget DCS Oliver has to get all that paperwork in to the powers that be by the end of play today, so get on with it.’ He nodded them back to work.
In the quietly busy office, Lizzie looked over the top of her computer at Adam. ‘Is that it? Paddy says a code word, they raid us, and then it’s all over?’ She screwed up her nose. ‘Nah, doesn’t seem right to me. They came in a helicopter. There must be more to this—’
Bill Larcombe huffed. ‘Bloody shut up, DC Singh, I’m worried enough already. Bet they’ve left bugs all over the place.’
* * *
At that, there was an uncomfortable silence, until Sam Knowles interrupted Larcombe’s paranoia. ‘We’re the police, Sarge, everything we do is monitored by somebody.’
Larcombe raised an eyebrow. ‘You are wise, Grasshopper. Long as they don’t take my pension away, why should I worry? Right, back to it. Let’s get reports written and everything updated by 4pm. And no whingeing, Lizzie, type it with one hand.’
34
‘Are we not going to ring ahead?’ asked Sally as she strapped herself into Dan’s Audi.
‘Not this time. He must have known who Paddy and Dimp were if he knew about Ongar. Must have. All three were mates and I bet they all hung around Lympstone, not just Ongar. Now why would they do that? No, I think he’s been withholding information, and why would he do that? Have you got the photo of Hamworthy?’
Sally pulled it from her bag and studied it. ‘He was only in his thirties,’ she said. ‘What do they do to them in that place?’
‘Odd that three of them, all friends, or at least companions, should end up involved in this mess. All a bit too much of a coincidence, if you ask me.’
Sally stared at him. ‘Do you think Allport might be involved? How?’
‘No,’ he said, slowly, ‘I don’t see how he could be, but he knows more than he’s telling us. The CCTV and video footage shows nobody fitting his description. Although we still have no actual evidence about who the pseudonyms belong to yet, so I won’t rule Allport out of the gang completely. I just can’t see that he has a motive.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s just something …’
‘A bit irritating about his smug little “sticking by the rules” world?’
Dan laughed. ‘Something like that. Could you get Sam doing a bit of research into his background for me?’
Sally texted, then laughed a minute later. ‘Sam says Bill is getting paranoid about being bugged.’
‘Judging by what DCS Oliver and the man in a suit were talking about earlier, he’s got a point,’ said Dan, pulling out into the traffic.
* * *
They had to wait for almost twenty minutes at the gate, even though it was the same guard they had seen on their previous visit only a few days before. Dan had a moment of longing to be one of those cops who barged down the doors of suspects and insisted on being seen immediately. He wasn’t at all sure they wouldn’t just shoot him if he tried that here.
He received a text from his sister saying she had an interview for a part-time job at a local charity shop. Minimum wage and only three days a week. She sounded excited and he was pleased for her. It had been quiet on the sister front since she had moved into the flat, and he’d only been back the once to check on her. Maybe miracles do happen, he thought, cheered by the news.
Colonel Allport didn’t stand to shake their hands this time. He stayed behind a desk piled high with documents. His face was creased with worry. ‘Keep it short, Detective Chief Inspector,’ he muttered, ‘as you can see, I’m busy.’
‘Happy to comply, sir,’ Dan replied, unconsciously falling into a speech pattern he would have used in a court room. ‘Sergeant Ellis will show you a photograph of the latest murder victim, although I imagine you have seen his photo on the news already?’ He watched Allport’s face, but there wasn’t a flicker of recognition.
‘No idea who that is.’
‘I think you do, sir,’ said Dan. ‘Perhaps you should look more closely. He was identified earlier as David Hamworthy, late of Lympstone barracks.’
‘Hamworthy? Yes, I do remember him, obnoxious character. He didn’t last long.’ He took a closer look. ‘Is this what he looks like now? I’d never have recognised him. Right, what do you want to know?’ He put down his pen and gave them his attention.
‘Think about it, sir,’ said Dan.
‘Are you trying to suggest that these deaths are linked with this facility? Two homeless men are killed and, because they happen to be ex-marines, the murders are linked to us? Don’t be bloody ridiculous.’
Sally picked up the photo and stared at it. ‘Hamworthy was only in his late thirties, sir, yet he was homeless and a hopeless alcoholic. I’m sure he didn’t come in here like that, did he?’
‘I don’t like that inference, Sergeant.’
‘And yet, the evidence is clear, sir. He entered as a keen recruit, and had such a bad time you threw him out, and now he’s dead. We’re just pursuing the line of investigation that points us to a link between the two dead men.’
‘I know this is difficult, Colonel,’ said Dan, ‘but there may be a reason why ex-marines are being targeted.’
Allport steepled his hands in front of his face and closed his eyes. ‘Hamworthy: potential was good, but his arrogant demeanour and unwillingness to accept military discipline meant that he was discharged after, I think, two terms on active duty.’
‘Thank you. Did he ever serve in Northern Ireland in any capacity?’ asked Dan. ‘Only his and Ongar’s service may link us to the man we think may be the potential third victim.’
‘Who? Which third man?’
‘We only know the man as Paddy. Northern Irish? Mean anything to you?’
Allport looked at Dan, ‘I don’t know anybody called Paddy.’
‘But you do have Northern Irish recruits, don’t you, sir?’ asked Dan.
‘Yes, of course, and to answer your question, I cannot tell you if either of those two men served in Northern Ireland. You would need permission from a very high authority indeed for me to reveal anything about our activities there.’
‘Not even if I said “Poseidon 1824” to you?’
And there it was. Allport’s eyes shifted away and off to the left. He’s preparing a lie, thought Dan.
‘Like the King of the Sea?’ Allport laughed, glancing at his phone. ‘No idea what you’re talking about. Sorry I can’t help.’ He stood up, walked around them and opened his office door. In the outer room, a junior officer leapt to her feet. ‘See them out,’ he said, and slammed the door.
Sally put the photo back in her bag, ignoring the hovering woman. Dan pretended to check through his notebook. Sure enough, as soon as the Colonel got back to his desk he picked up his phone, but they couldn’t hear what he was saying.
‘We’re in trouble now, boss,’ muttered Sally as they hurried back to the car.
‘Don’t care. I knew it, Sal. It all links up. Allport does know Paddy.’ He banged his hands on the roof of the car. ‘It’s so frustrating. I’m going to get it in the neck now for saying that word, even though it’s a legitimate part of our investigation.’
He looked at the office window, where Allport stared back at them. ‘You know, we may never get to the bottom of this case, Sal. If it’s secret, it’s secret.’
‘Well, if that turns out to be the case, it’s because of national security I suppose. I don’t think they’re being deliberately difficult.’
He stared at her in disbelief. ‘You don’t?’ He unlocked the doors and slid inside, sitting quietly while she clambered in. ‘Maybe not, and I do understand that we can’t be told everything, but it doesn’t help that none of the statutory agencies ever actually talk to each other, does it? We’re trying to catch a murderer, not expose state secrets. And we needed Paddy.’
He was silent on the way back to the station. How did the two link up – the Fire Goddess and the marines? And how could he find out when they were all trying to block him? The marines, the students – even Professor Patel – were all lying to him. Where was this Tana, and was she ready to strike again, or could they relax now Paddy was safely out of the picture?
35
Tana waited until Kegan had chainsawed the young tree into short logs then helped him pile it all into the trailer that was bolted to the back of the Land Rover. She’d never had to do the hard work before, but it was all different since they had messed up the thing with Jay. The last sacrifice, the most important one, had to happen right, and she couldn’t trust anyone else. Not with the police sniffing round. That old tosser Patel was bound to drop her in it. They had to move fast. She hugged a rough-hewn log to her chest and carried it over to the Land Rover. ‘Are we nearly there?’ she asked Kegan, who was carrying two logs at a time and sweating in the cool afternoon air.
He grunted. ‘No, we’ll need to collect more wood tomorrow as well to have enough. Should have asked someone to help.’ He avoided her eyes and went back for more wood.
Tana pus
hed hair out of her eyes with her arm. Drizzle had stuck it to her forehead. She had to disappear, and Kegan wasn’t bright enough to avoid the police. In fact, with his tattoos and muscles, he attracted attention; she had to go it alone and leave him to whatever fate decreed. She touched her newly dyed hair. Blonde suited her far more than she had thought it would. Out had gone the Goth make-up, and slowly, in came a persona she called secretary girl. As far away from Tana as she could get without having surgery. That would put the police off her trail for a while, especially as it made her look a lot more like the poor, dead Kathy Kelly on her passport.
She sat down on the tailgate and took a breather. On the outside, she hoped she looked her usual cool self. Inside, she had moths churning her guts. She had waited so long for this. To revenge her darling mother and father and her beloved baby brother. To get to watch him burn. The last one. It was all she had wanted since she’d been eight years old. And afterwards, she would try to get away, but she didn’t really care what happened to her. She’d been in a prison of sorts all her life. A shiver ran over her scars, rippling along her back and legs, down her arms to her fingers. It was nothing to do with the weather.
* * *
Kegan watched Tana through half-closed eyes as he finished loading the kindling. He pulled the tarpaulin tight over the load and climbed with relief into the driver’s seat. She was pacing like a lioness, he thought; her blonde hair wild around her face, eyes no longer framed in kohl. It was cold in the woods, and wet, but she barely paid any notice to the weather – even when she wasn’t consumed with planning her next murder.
Death on the Coast Page 17
