Then the dampener came. John said, “Trouble is in the valley you get a very poor signal on phones and Paul said he would ring you. Never mind. Let’s have a ‘livener’ we’re thirty minutes early.”
“OK” was the resigned reply.
Confidence was wavering.
John turned right at the signpost to Charlton and could see no sign of the Audi as he started to accelerate dangerously down the hill and swung a violent left at the bottom into Charlton Road. In the opposite direction to the pub. He accelerated hard along the valley towards Singleton as he pointed to her mobile.
She knew what he meant, and turning it off she prised the back open and hesitated when she saw a strange wire. He saw her falter before taking the battery and the sim card out of the phone. Sending up a small shower of debris, he drew into the side of the road braking fiercely. John snatched the phone from her grasp and pulled the wire off it and threw it out of his open window. The battery and Sim card looked ok but there was a very small flat silver square sitting below where the battery had been accommodated. Within about ten seconds, he had prised it out with one of his full remaining undamaged fingernails. Taking a toffee hammer that he kept in the door pocket, he hit it hard enough to destroy it. That followed the wire into the Sussex countryside. She didn’t know anyone who would carry a toffee hammer in a car but John having one came as no surprise.
“You can put it back together again but don’t turn it on just yet.”
The car took off from the side of the road so fast it nearly pushed her out of the side of her seat. Wedged between the seat and the door would have been the final insult.
Elsewhere: Confidence was zero.
48
Friday 10th June 2011
The car was no slouch along the narrow country road, nor through the constricting back streets of Singleton lined with jagged unforgiving flint walls. Then up the steep hill past the Weald and Downland museum towards the crown of Goodwood. As the road turned ninety degrees to the left in order to reach its summit where the race course crossed the road and caused chaos on race days, John carried straight on into a shoddily maintained private road. The potholes were horrendous with some several inches deep. John weaved violently from side to side as Alison hung on grimly with both hands to the grab handle as the car bounced about. Trees and bushes crowded in from both sides forming an unruly canopy destroying efforts at penetration by the sun’s rays.
He knew they were no longer being followed as he drove on for half a mile. Then they burst out through the trees into bright daylight. Directly to their nearside was a small chalk car park with a few wooden benches affixed to tables scattered about on the grass adjacent to it. John swung the car into it and parked, then killed the engine. Alison heaved a sigh of relief and thought the car was probably doing the same.
The Trundle was higher up still but only on foot and via a chalk path which led off from the furthest point of the car park. There was a clear unobstructed view stretching from Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight in the west to Littlehampton and the outskirts of Worthing in the East. Another chalk path flattened over time by farm vehicles led down towards Lavant.
Alison had never been there before and was amazed by the astonishing view. It was, she realised, less than four miles from her flat as the crow flies. She could see clearly the outline of the ‘Sail’ at Portsmouth and a hazy view of the Isle of Wight. The spire of the cathedral in Chichester stood out like a beacon from the surrounding area and the old motor racing circuit of Goodwood laid out below them was busy now as a small airport with little planes buzzing about like bees. The white roof of Butlin’s ‘tents’ at Bognor shone brighter as the summer sun struck them, and the dull grey green gasometer at Littlehampton was still an eyesore. On the horizon, the sea shimmered and danced blue as it reflected the sky.
John pressed the rocker switch and held it, but the light stayed clear. He opened the wooden box on the back seat and took out the smaller silver one and turning it on, extended the aerial. The lights all came on, and this time the red and yellow ones went out leaving the green one glinting in the sunlight. Putting the paddle by the mobile phone, the light shone green.
“Can you turn it on now please?”
Alison pressed the button, and the phone burst into life playing a few innocuous notes of music and asking for a password which she duly entered. Within a minute or so, the phone indicated it was operational and in standby mode. John now, more as a matter of caution, held the paddle next to it and watched as it still glowed green. He was happy but didn’t bother showing it.
Alison said, “Time for you to fill me in I think.”
“Let’s go to the bench because it is going to take a little while.”
There were a few other cars already in the car park when they had arrived with people sitting in some of them admiring the view or eating their packed lunches early. Others were empty as their occupants had decided to climb even higher up to the trig point on the very top of Goodwood or just walk their dogs in the adjacent fields. John kept the small silver box with him as they both made their way to one of the furthest wooden tables and then extending the aerial, placed it in the middle of the table as the light stayed green. They sat opposite each other and John produced a bar of chocolate from the day before and proffered half to Alison who took it. He still watched the entrance to the car park: just in case.
“Let’s talk about your cat last night, and the time it broke your vase and nearly gave you a heart attack.”
Alison said, “The day it broke my vase was when it got back into the flat without me knowing because it is a clever little tinker. Last night was as I told you this morning, although I didn’t think you were that interested.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t, but politeness deemed that I should ask. What made me listen most was when you said I would not get near it because he didn’t like strangers.”
“So?”
“Come on Alison, think. You are more intelligent than most, it’s a logical assumption.”
She sat there, and stared at him hoping for inspiration from his rugged face which stared back impassively. Silence for nearly five minutes was nothing for John but was excruciatingly embarrassing for Alison, and caused her to concentrate more than ever. Slowly she started to consider the outlandish which began to make sense.
“Are you thinking my cat ran from a stranger last night, and if so, that means someone was in my flat when I was asleep.”
“Yep, that’s what happened. Someone entered your flat at about 1am, which is when most people are at their deepest point of sleep, with the intention of bugging your phone. Your cat, who does not like strangers, took flight from the kitchen to where he thought he would be safe, your bedroom. Bet your phone was in the kitchen.”
“Shit, that’s really frightening. I put my phone on charge every night in the kitchen.”
John continued, “The day your cat was in the house breaking your ornaments was probably the first day that someone had broken in, and the cat also got back in probably if the front door had been left slightly ajar for the burglars’ fast exit. Your cat then having been locked in when the burglars went was likely to be desperate for the loo and that’s what he was waiting for, someone to open the door and let him out.”
Alison stared at John for a good minute now not at all embarrassed by the silence. Her brain was whizzing through lots of ‘what if’s’ and she was imagining the worst of all which in her view would not have been her murder. John still stared back at her with his totally impassive look. Then he broke off a piece of chocolate and put it in his mouth as he watched a beautifully kept old Morris Minor with two elderly people in it drive slowly into the car park and park so they could admire the vista without alighting.
“Say something. I’m going mad! Someone has been in my flat when I have been in bed, anything could have happened! You just sit there with that blank expression on your face as though it’s a common occurrence. What the hell is happening?”
&nb
sp; John said, “I was hoping you had read some of Sherlock Holmes.”
Alison interrupted him by shouted at him, “What the hell are you on about?”
“Try to think rationally because when you get angry you don’t think straight. Remember, eliminate the obvious and what remains, however implausible, must be the truth.”
She just looked straight at him with incredulity forgetting for a second her night visitor and said, “That’s not how Holmes puts it.”
“I know, but it’s my take on it.”
She leant back on the bench to try to relax and unclenched her hands that she hadn’t realised were now in fists.
“Try some chocolate, it’s not bad. Might help you think clearer because you haven’t finished. You know there is more.”
She did, but was trying not to think about it.
“Come on. What else have you thought?”
She glared straight at him, and said, “My flat’s bugged too, and probably my car because I always park outside my garage when I get home at night. Never put it inside. But why? This has nothing to do with the enquiry, has it?”
“Now you are starting to think logically. First though, we are going to have to sort out your safety. Can I use your phone?”
49
Friday 10th June 2011
John tapped out the number from memory, pressed the main button and waited for the connection to be made. Ian answered within three rings as he always did because that was how long it took him to remove his mobile from his shirt pocket or pick it up from next to his bed, check the caller ID and then acknowledge it.
“Hello” was all that he said now because he didn’t know, and his phone didn’t recognise, the caller’s number.
“Hi Ian. Oscar here. I’m using Alison’s mobile. We’ve had a little problem.”
“You ok?”
“I am now. We lost a tail and now we are recuperating at the top of Goodwood sitting on the green grass of the Sussex Downs enjoying the view.”
“Not in a public house? Times they are a changing.”
“Cheek.” He explained the phone having been bugged.
Alison was not concentrating at the moment about what was being said because she was lost in her own thoughts which again were turning towards dire consequences for her well-being.
She heard John say it was “professionally done” and then mention “amateurish surveillance techniques” but they were just odd words that penetrated her thoughts. What brought her back to immediacy was when she caught the phrase “three at the most, possibly four.” Something in that phrase really started to worry her because she believed she knew what it meant and then she shivered as her thoughts ran amok. Alison fought to think straight and concentrate on why it was happening to her and formulate some questions where the answers would make sense of it all.
John disconnected the call after the words, “I’ll sort it out with her after I have spoken to Simon”.
“Who’s Simon?” was all she could say although she had her questions stacked up and all ready for when he hung up.
“Ginger’s boy.”
“Why do you want to talk to a boy? Can’t you ever speak without talking in riddles? You are so infuriating that at times I could quite happily hit you over the head with a truncheon.”
With a sly smile, John said, “You need to purge yourself of all these violent thoughts, it’s not good for you” and totally failed to answer her question as he started to dial again.
“Hello Ginger. Oscar here” and he went through the rigmarole of where he was and that he was using her phone before asking if Simon was available. Ginger was really happy that John had obviously got some work for Simon, as he’d been living at the pub since he left the army and was frankly getting under his parents feet. Simon had done a few jobs for others on the ‘old team’ and his own contacts, but nothing in the last two months other than helping out in the pub in the evenings.
Alison got up, and stretching, said she was going to have a walk around and wandered over to a ridge that had probably been part of the old fortifications when the ancient Britons were running about in the area. She was settling down now and starting to regain her composure. When she was young, her Father had often referred to her as ‘plucky’ because he saw her stand up for herself on many occasions, but now she was older and times had changed she was referred to as ‘feisty’. Her forthright attitude and quick temper had often been the reason she hadn’t kept boyfriends for too long as it frightened them off.
John went through all the facts of the ‘burglary cum bugging’ giving Alison’s full address and vehicle details and then looking straight at her, described her in a genuinely fair but flattering way. He told Simon briefly about the enquiry they were on mentioning the bird box and that they had absolutely no idea who had committed the murder or why.
Simon said, “Firstly then you have a murder with someone somehow involved who has technical knowledge. You can keep tabs on that one as that’s what you’re paid to do.”
John appreciated the droll humour as Simon continued.
“I’ll liaise with Ian when we hang up and sort a few things out that I will need and I won’t be in your area for about six to eight hours because I may have to go to Kent for them. Are you going to update her old man?”
John replied in the affirmative saying he was not going to enjoy the conversation and then they agreed contact details with Simon ending the call by saying confidently, “Once I’m there, she’ll be safe.”
A statement that John thought maybe over confident.
John dialled the number as he watched Alison standing on the ridge, staring into the middle distance lost in her own thoughts.
The conversation was going well he thought, especially after Graham had calmed down and listened to what had been planned. Maybe shouting and losing one’s temper ran in the family although in John’s long association with Graham, today was the first time he had heard him raise his voice. Alison walked back and sat down on the bench and knew intuitively straight away who was on the phone.
She signalled to John as best she could that she did not want to talk to him and as if on cue John said, “Do you want a word with her, she’s right next to me.” and handed the phone to her.
Mouthing the words, ‘You bastard’ at John she engaged in conversation with her Father as John walked away.
50
Friday 10th June 2011
John had assumed her position on the ridge to give her the privacy that Father and daughter conversations deserved. It was as if the ridge promoted deep and meaningful thought because he seemed to be looking straight at the Cathedral spire without seeing it as he considered the options to be taken. Alison finished the call by throwing the phone onto the table hitting the little silver box of tricks that still showed the unwavering green light. Her Father had imparted a lot of information in such a short time that she was still having trouble disseminating it. He’d concluded with strong words impressing upon her not to lose her temper as was her wont as it could have disastrous consequences for her and those around her. She knew what he meant but didn’t like to be told so, and did not like him telling her to do as John told her.
The noise of the phone hitting the box on the table told John the call had been concluded and he walked back and resumed his seat. They sat opposite each other in silence for a minute or two.
“Calmed down now?”
“Yes” was the curt reply.
“The questions that you had for me earlier, I’ll answer now.”
Alison had already formulated new more pertinent questions and said, “My dad said they could be after either one of us, so why haven’t they gone after you?”
“About a week back, I heard from some people I know that a man who had a weather-beaten appearance was asking after me and my whereabouts. Since then, I have only been to my house once and I knew I was secure. I don’t know if someone is looking for me or deliberately looking for you. Remember, it was me that was followed.”
Alison thought for a few seconds and said, “My flat has been broken into at least once while I was at home and probably been bugged. We know my phone was bugged. If anyone wanted to do me harm they could have already done it, so I can only assume it’s you they are targeting.”
“That could be a logically acceptable conclusion, but better safe than sorry, Ginger’s boy can keep an eye on you.”
Alison was starting to get a little riled again.
“If it’s you they are after, I don’t have a problem and don’t need a ‘babysitter’ because I can look after myself. I have done some taekwondo and judo.”
John smiled, which infuriated her even more. He explained to her that if the people were as serious as he and her Father believed, she would not stop them. Although she now assumed they were after him, erring on the side of caution because they had been inside her house was the logical thing to do. John did not for one minute consider that he was the target even though he did not understand someone bandying his name about so evidently.
Then he told her that one of the places where a person was most vulnerable was when they were in bed, normally in their own home where they felt safe. She did not like his matter of fact, impassionate attitude when discussing her personal safety but saw his rationale.
“Why do you think there are three or four of them, and how will Simon by himself be able to protect me if you say they are so dangerous?”
John was still smiling and said, “You have to think cogently Alison and consider everything. You know the first time I was followed was by a BMW, and today was an Audi. That implies two. There are two exits from the Police Station yard onto two different roads. Are you forming an opinion?”
“You can be the most irritating, sarcastic and sanctimonious sod at times.”
“So I have been told. There may be a third tucked away somewhere by your flat and the person running the show. Simon has also done some martial arts so between the pair of you, it’s possible you’ll survive.”
An Urgent Murder Page 15
