Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  Alex considered the whole matter strange to say the least and his lack of operational information and freedom to act would, he knew, cause considerable difficulties.

  ‘I will require to bring in other people. I need at least two others, but how much can they know?’

  Francis had deferred to Sir John on this.

  ‘You can choose your team, but get the best. We need you, however, to be more hands on than otherwise might have been the case. However, as far as your colleagues are concerned, this is a straight-forward protection detail; but inform them that they must report all that happens during their own shifts to you, and discuss it with no one else.’

  When Alex had left the meeting he’d felt frustrated with the lack of definite instructions and began to ponder just what the real reasons were behind all this super security.

  CHAPTER 2

  With the Porsche idling at a set of traffic lights on the outskirts of Richmond, Alex thought again about his first visit to the Judge’s property yesterday. He had taken with him Detective Sergeant Douglas Johnson, the man he had chosen as his second in command. They had worked together on several occasions in the past. At thirty-eight, Dougie was a couple of years older than himself, not ambitious it appeared, but reliable enough and intelligent, and Alex considered that for this particular job they would work well together.

  Both he and Dougie had made a tour of the house and gardens, checking on security, and had identified some weak areas. While he went to his first meeting with the Judge, Alex left Dougie speaking with the members of staff, Arthur and Grace Painter. The Judge owned an ageing Rolls-Royce and Painter acted as chauffeur, manservant, butler and handyman. He lived in the house with his wife, who performed the duties of housekeeper and cook. It would be useful, Alex thought, to see what Dougie could find out about the daily activities of the household.

  On being shown into the Judge’s study, Alex found that he was more interested in the man sitting behind the large desk than in noticing much of his surroundings. His first impression of Judge Lionel Franklin was of a small, slim man. However, the pale blue eyes were the most arresting feature, now fixing him with an intent gaze, although lacking either expression or warmth.

  From reading the background notes provided for him, Alex knew that Judge Franklin was a Senior Judge and had overseen some important cases. However, in private it wasn’t considered by his peers that he would rise any higher in the judiciary. There was no explicit reason given for this assessment but several independent comments had confirmed the same thought, and also gave the unspoken impression that he was not liked. Alex had wondered if this might be a touch of class snobbery, as, although well educated and a Cambridge graduate, Franklin’s original background was from a working-class family. According to the notes, his parents’ endeavours over the years had created a successful engineering business, allowing a good education for their two sons, offering a chance of increasing their career opportunities in life.

  The Judge did not stand to greet him, nor offer him a seat, and Alex masked his slight irritation at the lack of immediate courtesy.

  ‘Good morning, Judge. I’m Inspector Alex Hartman, and as you know I’m heading up your protection detail. I’m in touch with CID and I’ve seen the letter involved. In my view I don’t think it will tell them much. However, I’ve asked them to inform me of the results of the fingerprint report. I presume you handled it?’

  ‘I did, Inspector. Once I saw what it was I took appropriate care with it. I do know about these things.’

  Alex ignored what he felt was a sarcastic remark.

  ‘Judge, I need to ask if you have any idea who might have sent it. The wording is in broad terms, appearing to threaten you if you dispense anything less than proper justice. Do you feel it relates to your current case? And if so, do you suspect the defendant himself, or someone unconnected? For instance, a person with a grudge against you for something in the past.’

  The Judge gave a slight smile. ‘Inspector, in my walk of life there will be a lot of people bearing grudges against me. Some people have not been slow to voice their opinion about the outcome of some of the cases in which I have been involved over the years. So far, I have remained free of this kind of joke, but to answer your question, it might be connected somehow. Then again, it might not. However, I intend to do my duty under the law, whatever the provocation. I have no doubt that everyone else will be doing the same and making all appropriate enquiries.’ An eyebrow was raised in query.

  Alex disliked the apparently disparaging remark and took a deep, calming breath. ‘Yes indeed, Judge. As your current case involves the attempted illegal sale of weapons, any number of factions might have an interest, domestic and foreign. Let’s hope that, as you say, it all turns out to be a joke. Meanwhile my Sergeant and I have reviewed your security and consider you should make some small changes.’

  A look of irritation crossed Franklin’s face. ‘I can’t imagine why you think that anything needs to be done.’

  Alex knew he had to stand his ground. ‘I would advise that you put extra security lighting around the house, and upgrade the alarm system. I also suggest that care needs to be taken with the other members of your household, for their own safety. I assume you have total trust in your staff? How long have the Painters worked for you?’

  The Judge regarded him for a long moment and then shrugged. ‘If you feel extra security lighting is required then I will have to organise it, I suppose. I’ll deal with it for Monday as a priority. As to my staff, the Painters have worked for me for over seven years and have given me no reason to think they are not trustworthy.’

  ‘I will require them to inform my colleagues of their movements at all times, please, Judge. I also understand that your niece lives with you. The same will apply to her, unless you are able to send her away somewhere for the time being.’

  ‘Inspector, my niece will remain here. We don’t want to create an unnecessary air of lurking danger, do we? However, having said that, I am sure we all feel comforted by your presence.’

  Patronising bastard! Alex could feel the anger building in him, but he tried to remain civil. ‘As you wish, Judge. It’s my duty to make my views known to you. Is there anything else you wish to raise with me?’

  ‘I would just stress that the less contact you and your colleagues have with members of my household, the better. No doubt there will be contact of a sort, but nothing too familiar. We all have our jobs to do, after all.’

  ‘I quite understand, Judge.’ Alex had already come to the conclusion he wouldn’t want to pass even the time of day with this man if he could help it. ‘Was that all?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve covered every angle, Inspector. You appear a very capable young man.’ Franklin paused. ‘I would suggest you have done very well for yourself.’

  Alex could feel the other man’s eyes running him up and down and was glad he had decided to wear one of his better suits.

  ‘Tell me, Inspector,’ Franklin settled back in his chair, ‘what in your professional opinion do you think of today’s law and order?’

  Alex was off guard for a moment. He hadn’t expected this form of personal questioning. ‘As with anything else, Judge, it could be a lot better, but we achieve a fair amount I believe.’

  ‘Mmm… any pet grievances on administration in any quarter? What about those in charge today, for instance?’

  Alex could see no reason why his personal views were valid in this situation, and had no intention of becoming involved in any form of debate.

  ‘I’m sure some things could be better whoever has the ultimate power. I just concentrate on doing my own job to the best of my ability. Now, if you will excuse me, Judge, I need to speak with my Sergeant before I leave. He will be with you until tomorrow morning. No doubt you will organise the security lighting changes as discussed. I will see you tomorrow, Judge. Good morning.’

 
As he left the study Alex was conscious of the tension in him. What was that all about? Odd that the Judge appeared to shrug off the possible threat, yet sound just as happy to accept protection. One thing Alex was sure about, however: he was relieved to be out of the man’s presence.

  He found Dougie in the kitchen with Grace Painter.

  ‘I’m off now. Can I see you for a moment?’

  He smiled and nodded to Mrs Painter and led the way outside.

  ‘Did you find out anything worthwhile?’

  ‘Nothing that useful. The Painters appear to be quite happy for any changes to their routines and have been on the whole helpful and pleasant. Reading between the lines, I estimate that they consider the Judge an adequate employer, but they don’t enthuse about him.

  ‘Arthur Painter told me that he always makes a habit of doing a security check on the Rolls every day but was happy for us to do so as well if we wished. It would seem there are few, if any, visitors to the property, which helps us quite a bit. There’s a newspaper delivery every morning at about seven-thirty. The Painters deal with any grocery purchasing themselves.

  ‘The Judge, I’m told, is part owner in the freehold of a gentleman’s club, The Grosvenor, and goes there a lot, both during the day and at night. I’ll organise a check around their premises, if that’s OK?’

  Alex gave him a nod in reply.

  ‘Without any prompting, Grace Painter has told me quite a bit about Catherine Franklin. It seems she lives with her uncle as part secretary-researcher and hostess, although as I’ve said the Judge does very little entertaining at home. She’s twenty-three years of age. Her parents were killed in a flying accident in Europe when she was fourteen. Although Lionel Franklin was eighteen months younger than his brother and a bachelor, he gave Catherine a home and has seen her through schooling and then on to a prestigious finishing school on the Continent. Since then she has lived with him, performing her duties as and when required, otherwise helping around the house and garden. It’s obvious that the Painters have a soft spot for the girl.’

  ‘OK, well thanks for that, Dougie. I don’t suppose any of it helps us, though. I’d be interested in what you think of the Judge when you meet him. He’s a strange character. Anyway, see you tomorrow morning.’

  *

  Lionel Franklin banged the desk with frustration.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me you’d be away. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for two days now… Alright, alright Aubrey. I wanted to talk to you about the Scottish runs. I’m considering ending them, at least for our current clients… That’s just it, Aubrey, they’re becoming picky, trying to take over. I warned you about them. Why you couldn’t deal with our Italian connections, or even further afield, I just don’t know. It would have been far better… Yes, that’s your trouble, you’re just looking at it from the political point of view… No, I’ll deal with it my way. I have an idea already… What? Oh yes, that. It’s all swung into action… No, Aubrey, I want some of the interest deflected… Yes, they’ve put quite a team of bodyguards in place… I’ve just met the officer in charge. Seems pretty sharp and on the ball – might have to watch that a bit… No, there’s nothing to worry about, Aubrey. Nothing at all.’

  CHAPTER 3

  His mind still running through the events of the last few days, Alex finally turned into the driveway of the detached Queen Anne property, his tyres crunching on the gravel. At least no vehicle could turn up unannounced, was his automatic thought. Sure enough, Dougie was at the side kitchen door to greet him.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Dougie. I took longer on my run this morning than I thought.’

  Dougie grinned at him. ‘I haven’t the energy for all that sort of physical stuff on any morning.’

  Alex smiled back. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Yes, fine, no problems. A quiet night.’ He grimaced. ‘The usual Sunday morning, seven o’clock and no one’s up and about, except us. I’ve turned off the alarm, though, just in case. Oh, I gather none of them is intending to go anywhere today, Boss.’ Dougie had slipped into this form of address despite Alex objecting on the point. ‘Last night Arthur said he would wash and check over the Rolls today ready for tomorrow.’

  ‘OK. I’ll take over now until six p.m. You take over again from then, and I’ll be around for the drive in tomorrow morning. I’ve asked Carl to be here from when I leave tomorrow, to oversee the security men doing their alterations. I would prefer to have someone checking on them. I’ve warned him about confirming their security details when they arrive, and told him what changes are being made. Any departure from that and he’s to contact me. I should be back with the Judge when you come tomorrow night, but in any case Carl will stay on to hand over to you.’

  ‘Right-oh. I’ll be off, then. See you.’

  Alex watched with some amusement as, with great care, Dougie manoeuvred his Ford Escort around the Porsche and drove out of the gates. He then went inside and through to the kitchen. Much to his surprise he encountered a young woman busy preparing a breakfast tray. This must be Catherine Franklin. His immediate impression was of someone younger than her twenty-three years. She was very attractive: slender, with dark brown hair curling below her shoulders – and the most remarkable green eyes he had ever seen! He wasn’t prepared for his reaction, and found himself in the ridiculous situation of having problems with his breathing. Aware that he must have been staring, he cleared his throat.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Franklin. We haven’t yet been introduced. I’m Inspector Alex Hartman.’ In an effort to put her at ease he added, ‘I’ve already had my breakfast, thank you.’

  Cool green eyes studied him. ‘This tray is for my uncle, Inspector Hartman. I always prepare it on a Sunday to give Grace a lie in. Perhaps I should have added the information to my list of movements that you requested.’

  Her hostile attitude puzzled him. He sensed in her tone a suggestion of aloofness, almost superiority. He grimaced to himself. No doubt young ladies of her station were not used to lads from the East End. He had no idea why that impression had formed in his mind, or why he found it rankled as it did. After all, she knew nothing whatsoever about him or his background for her to be able to form any opinion. He had long ago realised that his father’s deliberate insistence in correcting his East End dialect was now an advantage to him, and understood why his father had been so strict about it.

  He gave her a slight smile. ‘Unless the food has been laced with arsenic, Miss Franklin, I’m not sure that I’m all that worried.’ He realised his own remark was a bit waspish, but God knows he didn’t want to contend with opinionated little females first thing in the morning.

  Her attitude annoyed and, for some strange reason, unsettled him. Then again, perhaps his initial judgement was unfair and this was her normal wary reaction to a stranger, also bearing in mind her uncle’s comments about any contact. What did it matter, anyway? In a week or so he would be moving on to something else. He must confine himself to concentrating on the important things to do with this job.

  Leaving the kitchen without waiting to see her reaction to his remark, he crossed over the wide oak panelled hallway and entered the Judge’s study. He moved over to the French windows and stood for a moment looking out over the well-tended garden. He rattled at the lock, knowing full well that Dougie would already have checked them before he left.

  Why on earth had the girl got under his skin like that? Should he try to find out the reason why her attitude was so hostile? Then again, what was the point? Damn these stuck-up society people with their airs and graces! He took a deep breath to calm himself, then turned and looked around the room.

  From his earlier brief tour around the inside of the large house, this room, as all the rest, was well proportioned and quite spacious. There were dark oak bookcases along one wall, either side of a fireplace which looked as though it was used for the purpose. On the opposite wall
hung a large watercolour, and although Alex was no connoisseur he was of the opinion that it, like other paintings he had observed around the property, might well be an original and also valuable. Likewise, the large bronze sculpture of a horseman standing on the mantelpiece was obvious in its quality, as were other ornaments he had seen dotted about the various rooms. Franklin, he considered, was a man who, although not wishing to appear ostentatious in his wealth, still enjoyed being surrounded by the finer things in life. All the more reason for proper security!

  He returned his thoughts to the room in general. There were two metal filing cabinets on the short wall near the door, together with a small but robust looking Chubb metal safe. The desk was positioned with its back to the window, something Alex wondered about changing, but he considered that if you were sitting in the substantial high-backed chair at the desk there was no ideal field of view for anyone who might have made their way into the garden. There were other properties on all sides with their own large gardens, but each boundary had a six foot fence topped with three strands of wire, and the extensive mature shrubbery would make it awkward for someone to gain entry with any ease. The neighbours had been checked out some days before and all seemed satisfactory.

  Again, the bizarre request to keep his eyes open came to him. He was still uneasy about the unusual aspects of what he had been asked to do, and at the moment could determine nothing out of the ordinary. What was he looking for? He cast a glance over the papers on the desk. Most of them appeared to be typed case references on which handwritten notations had been made, and a transcription of Friday’s Court hearing. This particular case was relevant to the illegal trading of firearms by a member of an up-and-coming London gang who had been apprehended whilst attempting to negotiate a sale; unfortunately for him, to a covert team of Metropolitan Police. You could understand someone being sore, but enough to threaten the presiding Judge of a potential open-and-shut case? Alex wasn’t sure that it would be worth the effort, but you never could guarantee anything, and his job was to be ready for the unexpected.