‘I know. I know.’ He came closer, patting her on the shoulder.
Father Sean has her best interests at heart, I told him. The City will look after Samantha Hollandale. I promise, to both you and Father Sean. The Church will be rewarded, for all of its patients.’
Lindsay turned towards the Mayor, but all of the confusion had left her face and was replaced with a question, that she never got to ask.
Marshall opened the door and called out.
‘Detective Dawn, let’s go.’
‘No, wait. Eh, Mr. Mayor, can you answer one more question for me?’
‘C’mon Lindsay. Let’s go,’ Marshall asked again, and came in, moving towards Lindsay and the Mayor.
‘Mayor Tomlinson. I am sorry for this intrusion. I apologize, but we needed to speak to you, most urgently.’
The Mayor, smiling, put his palms in the air.
‘No need to apologise, Detective, I admire your zeal.’
Lindsay wrestled with the hand of Lance Marshall who was trying to rush her out of the room. She attempted to push him away but recognized the look that he had, and instead, she put on a show of wanting to stay behind. She played up, more and more, to try and apologize to the Mayor.
‘I am so sorry for this Mr. Mayor. I really am. My partner and I need to discuss his overall manner. Thank you for all of your help.’ She spoke, as she was being led away.
Mayor Tomlinson watched them leave the room together and decided to wait for a few moments before calling Chief Edwards.
DR NEEDS A DR
Marshall led the way, but he was being, quickly followed by Lindsay Dawn. From a vantage point, ten feet up, at a window sill, it looked like she was walking behind, but in every other instance, the Detectives were together.
Lance got into the Black and White, and Lindsay followed suit and placed herself in the back seat. Appearances were everything, and she wanted the curtain twitcher to have gotten the impression that she was being told what to do, by an out of control Detective. It would mean leaving the Subaru Impreza for the time being, but it was a nice neighborhood, so there were few risks involved.
‘Did you get anything?’ Lindsay asked of Marshall.
‘Lots. You?’
Lindsay looked out the window.
‘He is a professional politician. He knew the answers before I even asked them.’
But she paused and wondered to herself. A pair of eyes watched from the front.
‘What? He said something, didn’t he?’
‘Maybe. Something he didn’t have to. He said that the City would look after Samantha. I’m not exactly sure what he meant by it.’
Marshall looked down the street, as he drove but then looked right into the rearview mirror, and said.
‘Then you got a lot more than you realize.'
Marshall smiled. An understanding.
‘Yeah?’ Lindsay asked.
He laughed.
‘I think that you just cracked the case.’
‘For real? I don’t get it.’ Lindsay wondered aloud.
‘We will find out soon enough. I just need one more answer, before I know for sure.’
‘From the Chief, right? He set this whole thing up. He arranged for the Mayor to be alone in the Park without our say so. And then he had Officer Tomlinson out in the Park, observing us. It’s been an inside job all along. Jesus Christ, Marshall. It’s not just any cop. It’s The Cop. The God-damn Chief of Police.’ Lindsay recoiled in the seat and held her hands in her long black hair, pulling it across her eyes.
‘Maybe. Maybe not. I still need to ask the question.’
Marshall drove on but surprised Lindsay when he turned away from the station house and swung a right around towards Angel of Mercy hospital.
He parked up outside, and walked with Lindsay, towards the two beat cops who were waiting outside, maintaining a presence. He moved to one, who was holding a radio.
‘Call it in, I need to speak with Detective Brandt, as soon as possible. Tell him that I will be in the hospital lobby.’
He continued walking, pocketing the small walkie-talkie, and bringing Lindsay Dawn alongside him.
The interior of the hospital was quiet, with just the bare bones of staff and patients milling about. Some team were sitting at a small coffee shop in the rear of the reception, so Lance walked with Lindsay, to get a coffee and a muffin and await Detective Brandt's arrival. They had called him en route, but the phone was going straight to voicemail.
After the second bran muffin and second coffee, Marshall ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and wondered what was taking Brandt so long. Lindsay was eating the same, but hadn't said much. There were too many civilians about, for the pair to start discussing an open murder investigation, and anyway, Marshall was looking tense.
Finally, Brandt arrived but walked beside a pained-looking, Dr. Ishram Malawaty. The Doctor spoke first, as they came close enough to talk.
‘Detective, my colleague was due to phone me this morning but has yet to call. This is most irregular, and her family says that she has not arrived yet. What is going on?’
Marshall looked around.
‘Is there somewhere we can go. Somewhere that's a little quieter?'
The Doctor straight up turned around and started to walk away, leaving the three Detectives to give up on their muffins and coffee and follow him. Marshall eyeballed Brandt, and Brandt responded.
‘I’ve been sitting outside his surgery room all day long. He got really, paranoid this morning, and he insisted that he needed a personal detail. I haven’t been able to call it in, as they ban phones from the area.’
Marshall didn't say anything, but he knew Brandt was correct in what he was saying. Phones weren't allowed within an asses roar of the surgery, and there were signs everywhere that said just that.
Dr. Ishram walked up the four flights of stairs that led to the meeting rooms, but he didn't look back to make sure that he was being followed. What he knew of Detective Marshall, made him confident that he was the right man to explain everything to. He had almost done so, before, when they had last entered meeting room number seven. Now, he was back, and Dr. Ishram would have to tell him.
He left the door open, and walked into the same room, laid out in the same manner in which it had been, apart from the coffees and cakes. They all stood, but Dr. Ishram needed to sit.
‘Take a seat Doctor.’ Marshall asked.
‘I will not. Not until you tell me what is going on.’
Marshall waited until Lindsay and Brandt entered the room and closed the door before he turned around again, and said the words that changed everything.
‘Dr. Mira Rahham is dead.’
Pete Brandt’s mouth opened really wide.
‘It’s not Tomlinson? Are we sure about this?’ Brandt asked Marshall.
‘Yes. Identification has been placed on the body, that allows us to confirm that the victim is a female, of Middle Eastern descent.’
Brandt and Marshall had run a double team on the bad news. If Ishram felt like he wasn’t alone in feeling confused, then he might not retreat into himself as much, and be able to answer some questions.
Marshall moved towards Dr. Ishram and placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘It can only be Dr. Rahham, I’m sorry.’
‘Then it’s all been for nothing,’ the Dr. replied.
Dr. Ishram let go of the table and walked towards the window, where he could see out onto the park.
‘Well, he can have it.’
Marshall walked across towards the grieving Doctor.
‘Who is he? Has someone been threatening Dr. Mira? Threatening you both? Do you know who it is?’
Marshall swung back towards Lindsay Dawn, who wore an expression of understanding on her face. It was same thought that Lance had been having all day.
‘The City, Detective Marshall. The City wanted us gone,’ Dr. Ishram kept speaking.
‘The housing association, the bank, everyone.’
; ‘And the Church and Police?’ Marshall tried to help the Dr. finish his sentence.
‘No. I don’t know about them. Probably all of them. But we wouldn’t sign it. We refused.’
Marshall came alongside the Dr.
‘Sign what Dr. What is it, that I don’t know?’
‘The land, Detective. They wanted the land.’
Dr. Ishram pointed out towards the Park.
‘And you and Dr. Mira owned some of it?’
Marshall was confused and stretched for an answer, like a man cut adrift at sea.
‘Dr. Mira and I owned an extraordinary deed. One that was passed onto us, by the late Director of the Hospital. He too had inherited a most complicated lease, that on its own, was useless. When he died, we inherited the deed. But of course, it was worthless, unless you wanted to sell all of this.' Dr. Ishram waved towards the Park.
‘But, you would need the permission of all of the landholders, to sell such a significant piece of land. And the park is contained on all sides by four very different buildings.' Marshall postulated.
‘Yes, the buildings are. You are correct Detective Marshall. But the deed concerned the land underneath the buildings, which all sit in the boundary of the park.’
Dr. Ishram saw the realization dawning on the faces of the Detectives ahead of him. He continued.
‘The deed to the park was considered quite useless, up until recently when a notary of little fame, came across a subsection of the original deed. It was then found out, that whoever owned the deeds to the park, owned the land which the buildings resided on.’
Marshall remembered what William Burges had said, about the land, about looking from the outside in. The thing of value was the Park, and someone was willing to kill for it. It was then, that he remembered having also recently met a notary
‘So, who was threatening you? Who Dr. Ishram?’ Marshall came close to grabbing the Dr. by the lapels of his coat, but held himself back, and hoped that the case could break here and now.
‘The Mayor.’ He wanted us to have signed the document a week ago. When the days ticked by, nothing was happening, so we thought that his threats were empty. But then,’ He stopped talking.
‘When Roger Richards daughter turned up dead in the park, it became a bit more real.’
Marshall had known it had to be about a land grab. Annie-Ann was too perfect, too clean, and too innocent. If she had wronged a fly, her parents would have known about it.
Dr. Ishram nodded and began to cry.
Marshall looked back towards Brandt.
‘Stay beside Dr. Ishram at all times, and do not let him out of your sight. Is that clear?’
Brandt nodded.
Marshall turned towards Lindsay. ‘Bring that sonofabitch in for questioning. Arrest him if needs be, no mistakes.’
He was talking about the Mayor.
‘And what are you going to do?’ Lindsay asked Marshall.
‘I’m going to Edwards, to find out what the hell has been
happening, and where the hell is Tomlinson.’
SNIFFING CONCRETE FLOORS
Marshall walked as Lindsay drove, both as intently as the other was doing. She had been a good partner on this, and no matter how the chips fell, she would proceed with the investigation until its conclusion.
Detectives Johnson and Brandt had been adequate, but they weren't bull terriers. They certainly wouldn't have put a slap on Father Sean. And that part began to make sense too. Marshall realized that Father Sean was haggling with the Mayor over what role the Church was to have after the park and the surrounding land was to be sold. But how did O'Riordan come into all of it? Annie-Ann Richards was a pawn in all of it, but what about Alan O'Riordan What was his role?
Marshall jumped up the steps of Police HQ and right into a melee at the front desk, meeting Sean O'Riordan and a cohort of retired Cops in their civvies inside the building. Three men grabbed at Marshall and dragged him roughly into the side stairwell. They weren't going to the Chief, no this time, he was going down into the basement.
They dragged him down, and past the seven interview rooms, before coming to a large boiler room, at the end of the corridor.
Marshall took a sneaky couple of punches to the side, and one to the cheek from a fat guy, who puffed as he threw it and panted for a while afterward.
It was a clean hit, and Marshall dropped onto the bare concrete floors. His ears were ringing, but still, he could hear the door to the basement from the stairs, sticking shut, as it was locked from inside. Another hand reached out and turned off the light.
A goon reached in and hit Marshall with a thud from his wrist that hurt him more than the Detective. It was a lazy shot and missed with the knuckles but collided as it flew on past, catching Lance’s temple with his wrist.
‘Lift him. Lift him.’ Sean shouted out to the goon squad.
Lift him they did, slowly and with great effort. Lance was leaving his legs on the ground. He made the group lift his entire body until his legs were hanging underneath him. Playing unconscious, wasn't as much fun when you were getting knocked about, but he felt that Sean owed him a hit. His son was dead, after
all.
And hit him he did, but clearly, and in the gut. He struck him that he involuntarily coughed up a glut of blood, falling to the floor on his hands and knees.
‘Lift him again.’ Sean ordered.
Once again, they lifted Marshall high and open.
‘It was the Mayor.’ Marshall spoke out.
‘Wait. Wait,’ O’Riordan, held his punch.
‘What about the Mayor? You say he knows something about my Alan?’
Some of the crew looked at Sean and each other and kept on doing it. Sean, and then themselves, Sean O'Riordan, and then at one another.
‘Nobody fuckin say it,’ He called out to them.
Sean moved closer to Marshall and with tears in his eyes, began to plead.
‘Tell me. Did he do it? Did he have something to do with it?’
Marshall nodded. But he couldn’t prove it. Not yet anyway.
‘So where is he? Right now, at this very minute.’ Sean
O’Riordan called out.
‘Lindsay Dawn is bringing him in.’
They dropped Marshall, as Sean O’Riordan turned and walked towards the door, flicking the switch and turning on the lights and opening the door. All that was left behind were some fat, sweaty men with confused looks on their faces. Some ran up and out after Sean O’Riordan, while others stumbled out the door, trying to comprehend what they had just heard. In the middle of the concrete floor, a strip of red silk lay upon the ground, bringing beauty to a bleak world.
A dazed and bloody Lance Marshall got to his feet, and pocketed the ribbon, and then made it to the stairs, climbing up and up, towards the office of the Chief of Police.
He got to the right floor, and walked inside and seeing an empty office space, stumbled along, spitting out great big clumps of blood. It had been a hell of a hit from Sean O'Riordan, but he had a hit of his own, that he had been saving up.
Getting to the office space of Chief Edwards, Marshall was more than surprised to see Detective Ed Johnson standing outside. He had a gun in his hand and held it by his side. He called out as Lance came closer.
‘I can’t let you in here Detective. I have my orders, and the Chief is not to be disturbed.’
Lance kept coming but kept his hands away from his own sidearm.
‘I had a feeling it might be you, that was here, between me, and the Chief. What with how you were dragging your ass around the hospital, and how we kept on having email issues.’
Ed explained. ‘I was ordered by the Chief to send all messages through him, and especially yours. I guess some didn’t end up going to you, but Brandt and Dawn got them, I know that for sure,’
Marshall was surprised but not shocked. It had to have been someone from the inside who had been disrupting the flow of emails, but was concerned that Chief Edwards had managed to put
the squeeze on Johnson so easily.
Ed continued, ‘I have my orders, same as you, Lance. Just turn around and walk away.’
‘You know, I just came from getting beat up from Sean O’Riordan and his bunch of thugs. I don’t need this Ed. There is so much more going on now, outside of this room. I need to get inside and ask some questions, so we can all just go home.’
Ed relented a little, as he saw how roughed up Lance Marshall had been. ‘If I do let you in, then it’s my ass that’s on the line.’
Marshall tried to tug at Johnson’s sense of duty. ‘I need you to give some back up to Lindsay. She is on the way in with the Mayor, but I’m worried in case Sean O’Riordan gets to her first.’
The mention of the Mayor and the possibility of Lindsay being in danger, caused an immediate reaction in the body language and posture of Johnson. If Lindsay was arresting the Mayor, then this had escalated. Ed holstered his weapon and stepped to the side.
‘Lindsay needs my help.’ he said.
‘I need your help. Thanks, Ed.’ Lance patted Ed on the arm, and made ready to enter the office.
Now, he moved his hand to his weapon and felt an impending threat. Ed and Lindsay were close, but in this crazy world, he hoped that the Mayor hadn't gotten to Ed Johnson too. He hoped that he hadn’t sent Lindsay a real problem.
SMOKE AND MIRRORS
Marshall lifted his Beretta and with his free hand, and opened the door, expecting a confrontation on the other side.
He kept low and tried to aim high, hoping to be able to shoot up, and into whoever was waiting on the inside of the door.
But what he didn't expect, was for everything to be as calm as it was, on the inside of the office door.
Chief Edwards was behind his desk, and perched upon his swivel chair, turned halfway towards the long couch at the back of his office, and towards the window, which looked out upon the park. It wasn't that Chief Edwards was looking so calm, but who was in his office, and as a result, he was looking so relaxed.
Marshall Law Page 17
