Alex stared at him, astounded. ‘Are you trying to tell me you think something of the kind is happening?’
No answer, just an impassive stare.
Alex stood and walked around. ‘That’s crazy! It would have to have some sort of control. It couldn’t just happen. Someone would have to pick out the person, position, timing… and that could take years to achieve.’ He sat down again.
‘But you’re right. It could do enormous damage.’ The more he thought about it, the more alarming the idea became.
He looked over at the still silent Francis. ‘Are you suggesting to me that the Commissioner’s post is… suspect?’
‘It would be a good opportunity, don’t you think? Get your own man in there and… well, you can use your imagination.’
‘Have you any evidence for all these suspicions of yours?’
‘Nothing so far that would look too good in a court of law, but I have some interesting facts and figures. Sir John knows of my ideas. He, too, is concerned, and he agrees that someone should be utilised in any capacity that would assist in this investigation, but on a confidential basis. He considers you have the aptitude to be of assistance as a representative of the police force.’
‘You consider me that trustworthy?’
‘You’ve been checked out. After a rather shaky start in life you have proved yourself capable and you appear to have integrity. Your father was also a good policeman, until he went astray, albeit under a certain amount of duress.’
Alex was rather startled to hear reference to his father. They must have been doing some digging!
‘Is my current detail something to do with this matter?’
‘As we said, for the moment we would like to know a bit more about what goes on in the Judge’s household. We’ve been given a unique and unexpected opportunity to get on the inside. That’s all I’m prepared to say at present.’ He studied Alex for a while longer. ‘Are you willing to assist us in investigating the wider issues?’
Alex didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, I think I am. Am I under your control or Sir John’s?’
‘You will be operating under your ordinary police procedures, as we mentioned before. Finish your current duties at Richmond, and then set something up. I want you to do your own thinking and probing. Sir John is arranging for you to be seconded to the Anti-Terrorist Branch with a special assignment; say, organised crime links with terrorism. You will from time to time also be given orthodox jobs, as cover. The transfer will give you a chance to poke around a bit. If you need any special permissions, contact me. You can have someone to assist you but they must not know the whole story, and I cannot impress upon you enough the need for secrecy. By its own nature we cannot be sure who is on the inner circle. One false move or remark, and tracks will be covered.’
‘Yes, I understand that. I wonder if my present Sergeant would be interested. Can I speak to him?’
‘Yes, but under the proviso I have already mentioned.’
Francis wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to Alex. ‘This is a secure number on which you can reach me at most times. If not, it’s always manned, so you can leave a message if you have to. Memorise it and destroy the paper.’ His smile was thin. ‘You don’t have to eat it!’
In a complete change of tack he asked, ‘What sort of make is the Judge’s safe? It’s in his study, I take it?’
Alex had to think for a moment to remember but then it came to him. ‘It’s an old Chubb, and yes, it’s in his study.’
‘Yes. Mmm… of course.’ Francis made a note and then rose.
‘Well, I think we’ve done enough at this time of night. I will leave it to you to speak to your Sergeant and then you can get to work. Give it some thought meanwhile.’
Alex drove back to Kennington, thinking hard.
*
After relieving Carl the next morning, Alex did a tour of the house and grounds. Not so much checking on the security arrangements, but trying to see the property through new eyes. It was his last day roster and after a day off he would return for nights.
There was just one way in and out of the property at the front, and with the new extra security lights at the front and back, any approaches in or out should be well observed. The thick tangle of shrubbery all around the back garden would, in his eyes, still pose a problem for an easy entry or exit. This left a check on the inside of the property.
Returning to the house, he walked through an archway in a hedgerow into the vegetable area. His approach had been on grass and therefore silent, which is how he came upon Catherine Franklin before she knew he was there. She was standing on the gravel path dressed in a heavy coat and Wellingtons, her dark brown hair caught back in a ponytail. However, it was her face which held his attention: a picture of beautiful serenity. She appeared to be gazing up towards a nearby tree. He himself became aware of a bird trilling its heart out, and realised she was listening too.
The bird stopped and he said, ‘They make an amazing sound unequal to their size.’
Startled, she jumped and spun round. For once there was no aloofness in her expression. She was still caught up in the wonder of her experience, and Alex felt a sense of pleasure from just looking at her, wishing that she was always like this in his presence. He could see a smudge of dirt on her cheek and had an insane desire to reach out and rub it off. He gave himself a mental shake.
With an embarrassed smile, he heard her murmur, ‘Excuse me’, and she went to move past him.
Nettled that she appeared to be so keen to get away from him, and against his better judgment, he commented, ‘Oh, by the way, Sarah arrived home safe and sound last night. We spent a very entertaining evening together.’
He regretted the remark the instant he made it as he saw the unhappy expression cross her face. She made no reply, but turned on her heel and trudged off out of sight.
Hell’s teeth, he fumed to himself, why on earth did he want to do that? She wasn’t in the same league of banter as Sarah Jennings by a mile, and appeared to think the worst of him anyway. Even so, she ought to know her friend better than to think she had also taken advantage of the supposed opportunity. He’d formed the impression, after his talk with Sarah, that they were more like sisters. He sighed. She was a mystery to him, but he regretted any worsening of the situation between them. He would have to find a way of making things up with her. Then again, perhaps he ought to just keep out of her way. He had a job to do. With a shake of his dark head he carried on back to the house.
*
Catherine dumped her gardening things in the scullery and went through to the kitchen. Grace was washing the breakfast dishes and looked up as she entered.
‘Ah, there you are, your uncle has been asking for you. He also wanted to know where Inspector Hartman was. Have you seen him?’
‘Oh yes, I’ve seen him alright, and I hope I don’t have to again.’
She disappeared through into the hall, ignoring Grace’s enquiring call, and went into the study. Her uncle was on the phone but gestured for her to wait. When he finished his call, he glared at her.
‘There you are. What have you been doing? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I need to take those notes with me today that you were typing.’
‘I was just in the garden. I’ll get them.’ She turned to leave.
‘Oh, have you seen Hartman?’
‘Yes, he’s in the garden.’
With that brief statement, she turned and left the room.
Pondering his niece’s abrupt comment and unusual demeanour, Franklin heard a knock on the door.
‘Come.’
Hartman walked into the room. ‘You wanted to see me, Judge?’
At that moment, Catherine returned. When she saw who was present she hesitated, but then put the papers on the desk and without a further word, or look, left the room.
Franklin notice
d Hartman watch her leave and caught his small sigh. He narrowed his eyes. There was an unwelcome situation developing here that would need his attention, he mused to himself.
‘I understand you will be missing tomorrow, Hartman. Who is covering for you?’
‘Sergeant Johnson will be with you during the day. Freeman takes the night. Sergeant Johnson again for day duty, and I start nights that evening. Is that satisfactory?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. By Friday we should be summing up, and next week should see an end altogether. I presume now is the difficult time, if anything is to happen?’
‘If someone had wanted to apply pressure they might have considered it before now, but nothing can be taken for granted, and your cover could remain on alert even after the end of the trial.’
‘Very good. I am ready to leave now,’ said Franklin, standing and closing his briefcase.
‘I’ll go and tell Painter.’
The younger man left the room and Franklin sat down again in his chair, rubbing his chin and staring, deep in thought, at the closing door.
*
Catherine heard the Rolls leave and sat where she was on her bedroom window seat with her face up against the cold glass. What was happening in this house at the moment? Everyone was on edge all the time. No, she thought to herself, that’s not quite correct. She was on edge, that was the problem. For a moment out in the garden this morning she had felt at peace with herself, and then he had appeared, and it had all fallen apart again. Every time she saw the man she felt unable to act in a normal way; and to make matters worse, she was sure he knew it. Her senses were on full alert when he was around, as if she had come alive in some way. Why was she so tongue-tied in his presence, not quite knowing what to do or say, and always getting it wrong? It wasn’t as if she liked him – was it?
She realised too late that he had been teasing her out in the garden this morning. Her reaction must have seemed ridiculous to him. She should have known that Sarah would have sent him packing if he had tried anything with her. She was envious of her friend for being able to enjoy an evening in his company. Should she try to apologise, or just leave it? She wasn’t sure what to do any more, but mindful of her uncle’s warning, and her own uncertain feelings, it might be better if she tried to ignore him – if she could.
CHAPTER 8
The change from days to nights was always difficult as it altered his sleep patterns, but Alex found there was something peaceful about a night sky, even in the middle of London. Out here in Richmond, it was even better. He’d been around the outside of the house and garden, and all seemed secure. As a light drizzle began to fall, he made his way back indoors.
Grace had left him a sandwich on a tray and a note for him to help himself to coffee. He made a cup and munched on the sandwich, looking through the daily paper lying on the kitchen table. He thought that at one point he had heard a sound in the quiet house. He went into the hall and listened for a while. Nothing. Just someone using a bathroom, no doubt. He returned to the kitchen, but stopped again and listened hard. There it was again, more a suggestion of a noise, and difficult to pinpoint.
He moved back to the hall and stood outside the door to the Judge’s study. He was sure the noise had been from here. He slipped inside, and sensed a change in temperature, like a draft of cold air. In the moonlight he could see that the room was empty and the French windows were still closed. He moved towards them and looked out at the garden, now wet after the rain shower. He was about to turn away when something on the carpet at his feet caught his eye. He bent down. It looked like a small leaf from one of the garden plants. Picking it up, he found that it was wet. The carpet just inside the French windows also felt damp to his touch. Someone had just been in and out of this door. But how? The door was still locked, the alarm hadn’t gone off, and the outside light wasn’t on. He unlocked the door and slipped outside, hoping not to activate the alarm – if, in fact, it was working. He inched down the side of the house and glimpsed a dark shape just turning the corner ahead of him. He broke into a run and sprinted after the figure. He heard a muffled oath and saw his target trip and fall to the ground. In an instant Alex was on him.
‘For Christ’s sake, don’t start shouting, Hartman. We’re on the same side.’ The low whisper was just audible.
Alex hauled his captive to his feet. ‘What the hell’s going on! How do you know my name?’ His voice no more than a hiss.
The other man was attempting to brush himself down, his breathing heavy from his fall.
‘I knew it was you here tonight. We know what cars each of you drive. If you must know, I’m doing a job for Francis. We needed to see the contents of the safe.’
‘How in God’s name did you get past the security?’
In the wash of moonlight Alex saw the other man smile, and reach into his pocket. Quick as a flash Alex had his wrist in a vice-like grip.
‘Don’t be a fool, Hartman. I’m not armed.’ He managed to extricate a small square box from his pocket and held it up. ‘This overrides the alarm system. I scarpered when I heard you moving around. I was just about to activate the alarm again when I tripped over the bloody garden. I’ll give you time to get back in and then do it.’
‘Oh no you won’t, young man.’ Alex took the device from him and grabbed his arm. ‘You’re coming back inside with me and we’re going to have a little conversation with Francis about this.’
He propelled the other man back to the French windows.
‘Are you sure the alarm is still off? I don’t want all hell breaking loose.’
‘Yeah, its all OK. Don’t worry.’
Back inside, Alex pulled the heavy curtains and switched on the desk lamp. He studied the other man for a moment. He was in his late twenties, and seemed relaxed, given his fall and the subsequent scuffle, with no apparent unease at potential exposure as something different to what he claimed.
Alex dialled the number Francis had given him. Would it reach him at this time of night? On the second ring it was answered.
‘Yes?’
‘Do I understand there was a visit arranged tonight?’ Alex demanded.
After a moment’s silence, he heard a sigh. ‘Ah. Been discovered, have we?’
‘A bit risky, wasn’t it? Not the quietest of burglars, and he left clues behind.’
‘Oh? Such as?’
‘Wet leaves from the garden on the carpet. Alright, they would be dry by the morning, but they were there for me to see tonight. I bet I gave him one hell of a start. He tried to make a quick exit.’
‘He’s with you then, is he? God’s teeth… Put him on.’
Alex handed the phone over with a grim smile.
‘Your boss wants a word with you.’
After a moment or two when his companion had, it appeared, been treated to a less than harmonious conversation, the receiver was handed back to him.
‘You don’t need to worry, Hartman. We’ve done this before and by morning no one will be any the wiser.’
‘Do I also assume that the security people did a more complicated job than was thought?’
‘Yes, that was tricky. Good idea on your part to have one of your people oversee the job, but it made life a bit difficult for our man. He had a hell of a job getting a copy of the door key, and dealing with the electrics. Handy, though, to have people placed in firms like that.’
‘You should still have warned me.’
‘Mm, yes, I take your point. Perhaps we should. Let our friend out of jail will you. Make sure he puts the alarm back on, though.’
After his visitor had left, giving an assurance that the alarm would be reactivated, Alex had a close look at the safe. There appeared to be a film of liquid around the keyhole, greasy to the touch. He hoped Francis was right and there would be nothing to see in the morning.
He left the study and stood for a moment in the hall. Al
l was still quiet. He went to check the control box for the alarm system and it appeared to be working as normal. He returned to the study and opened the French windows, closing them again as soon as he saw the warning light for the alarm start to blink. He was about to turn off the light when he saw something lying on the floor under the desk. He reached down to pick it up. It was a piece of paper torn out of a notebook of some sort, on which two dates had been written. He shrugged and placed it on the desk.
It would be as well to check around the house again, he thought. Making his way up the stairs he noticed a faint light coming from under one particular door. This, he knew, belonged to Catherine Franklin. Was she still awake at this time of night? It was past one o’clock. Had she heard anything? Should he risk taking a look? If she was awake she might well scream the place down. He had to take the chance; it was just possible she could be ill.
With caution he opened the door. No sound. He eased through the small gap. She was asleep, but her bedside light was on. She had been reading and the book was still in her outstretched hand. Any moment now it would fall to the floor and wake her. Alex moved over to the side of the bed and, removing the book from her unresisting fingers, placed it on the bedside table. He looked down at her as she slept. Her hair, shining in the dim light, had fallen over her face. He reached down and moved it aside with the tips of his fingers. The lines of her jawbone and slender neck were now exposed and he wanted to… Good God! What was wrong with him? This was ridiculous. He was reacting like a love-sick schoolboy.
He turned out the light and left the room. He checked the rest of the upstairs and went back down to the kitchen. He found he was breathing hard, and forced himself to regain his composure. You’re going to be in serious trouble, my boy, if you carry on like this, he told himself. Just keep your mind on your work. However, at times during the rest of the night he thought again of the shadowy room and the sleeping figure.
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