The DCI Isaac Cook Thriller Series: Books 1 -3

by Phillip Strang

‘Maybe. Maybe not. We’re assuming Charles Sutherland and Sally Jenkins did, but it’s pure assumption.’

  ‘But they died.’

  ‘As did Richard Williams.’

  ‘Can we stop this continuing if these people are determined.’

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘Marjorie Frobisher?’

  ‘She’s a dead woman. We can’t protect her.’

  ‘We need to tread carefully here. Can we trust Richard Goddard?’

  ‘We must.’

  The day had passed by the time the two men had concluded their discussion. Wendy had phoned in; the landlady was chatting happily about this and that. Wendy said she was just lonely, glad of a bit of company. And yes, she loved gossip and keeping her nose close to the front window. Wendy said she was in for a couple more hours before she had found out all she could.

  Isaac told her to take her time. He, meanwhile, had to talk to his boss.

  Farhan, unwisely, considering the escalating momentum in their investigation, planned to meet Aisha – he could not keep away.

  Chapter 36

  Richard Goddard was preparing to leave when Isaac knocked on the door to his office. The man was anxious to leave; Isaac eager to discuss Marjorie Frobisher.

  ‘Can this wait, Isaac?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir.’

  ‘I’ve only got five minutes. I’m meeting with Angus MacTavish, and then I’ve a function to attend.’

  ‘Five minutes it is. We believe Marjorie Frobisher is targeted for assassination.’

  ‘Is she still safe in the hospital?’

  ‘We’re protecting her the best we can.’

  ‘What do you want from me? We’re walking into a minefield here.’

  ‘A minefield and we don’t know the way out. What do you suggest?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘We need to protect the woman.’

  ‘Once she leaves the hospital?’

  ‘I’ll need permission.’

  ‘From whom? And can you trust them?’

  ‘I’m not sure who I can trust. Believe me, it would have been better for all of us if she had stayed hidden, even dead.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re saying that, sir.’

  ‘Neither can I, but there you are. There’s a mystery surrounding this woman, but nobody knows or isn’t talking. Does the woman know?’

  ‘I assume so.’

  ‘Then get over to the hospital and stay with her. Sleep there if you must, but protect her, get her to talk. Frighten her if you have to. She’ll need to be told about Richard Williams.’

  ‘I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘The husband. Is he still there?’

  ‘I believe so,’ Isaac replied.

  ‘Can you trust him?’

  ‘I don’t think he’s involved in any of the murders.’

  ‘He had reason to wish Williams dead. Playing around with his wife.’

  ‘A suspect in his murder. Is that what you think?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘Not likely. The crime scene examiner believes it’s a professional hit. The shot was too precise for an amateur, and Robert Avers has no history with weapons.’

  ‘Okay, but find out what she knows. Now is not the time for her to hold back. Whatever the truth is, it must be serious. Three murders now, maybe four if we don’t act.’

  ‘Angus MacTavish?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘What are you going to tell him?’

  ‘I’ll be careful. I’ve no idea where he stands. He may be fine, but as you say, he’s a devious politician. He’ll bend with the wind, and if that means the whitewashing of a few murders, then he may turn a blind eye. I know the man is looking for a knighthood in the next New Year’s Honours list.’

  ***

  Farhan was pleased to see Aisha again. She was looking forward to him meeting her parents, but it was still premature. Until the murder of Charles Sutherland was solved, she was still a material witness.

  They had chosen a secluded restaurant not far from where they had first met.

  ‘Aisha, we need to be careful.’ She was demonstrative, wanted to sit near him and give him a hug and a kiss. He was still wary of his detective superintendent’s statement and the berating from Isaac.

  ‘I’ve got another important case coming up. I want you to come and see me in action,’ she said excitedly.

  ‘A junior, do you get to do much?’

  ‘Not really, but I would like you there.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘You’re busy, I know that. It’s in the news. Marjorie Frobisher is in the hospital. Richard Williams dead.’

  ‘It’s coming to an end soon. I hope it is, anyway,’ Farhan said. He, like Isaac, was tiring of the case. It had gone on for too long, with too many murders, and too many questions. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t decide if it was one murderer, or two, or three.

  Aisha said she couldn’t stay long; she had to get home. Farhan would have preferred her to stay, maybe spend the night in a hotel. She said it wasn’t possible, as she had to travel up north early the next day to meet the client.

  ‘Will my secret be safe?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m trying. Nothing is certain. It could still come out.’

  ‘It depends on who murdered Sutherland, I suppose.’

  ‘If they plead guilty, then maybe there’ll be no witnesses called.’

  ‘If they don’t?’

  ‘You’re the lawyer. You can answer that.’

  ‘The defence will call every witness they can, looking for discrepancies in the evidence, contradictions in statements given.’

  ‘That’s what you would do?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I just hope they don’t find out.’

  ‘So, do I,’ Farhan said. Personally, he hoped they wouldn’t. Professionally, he realised there was a strong possibility. The renewed interest in the case after the murder of Richard Williams and the reappearance of Marjorie Frobisher had caused a frenzy among the vulture press. They were still in attendance at the hospital, although their numbers were diminishing. How long before they disappeared: not known.

  The plan to protect the woman that Isaac had briefly relayed earlier depended on creating a smokescreen, and then whisking the woman away unseen. It would be two days maximum before she was ready to move, and still Isaac had not interviewed her.

  Farhan and Aisha parted company two blocks from her house. He had driven her home for the first time. They parted with a lingering embrace and kiss.

  She would not be back for a couple of days. She promised they would find a room when she returned. Farhan knew he was breaking all the rules.

  ***

  Wendy came into the office the next morning, updated Isaac and left. The landlady, ever-vigilant, had seen her now-departed lodger with a man outside the house on a few occasions, a big, burly man.

  Not that she was nosey, the landlady had said. It was just that she liked to make sure all was in order on her street. Wendy had nodded in agreement, but quietly thought she was a busybody. She had one in her street, two doors away, who was always complaining about something or other. One day, the noise from the people who had just moved in; the next, someone’s dog defecating in the street. Wendy took little notice of either, and while the noise could sometimes be irritating, it only lasted for an hour or so, and as for the dog, the owners always cleaned up.

  The only good thing from the landlady was a car registration number. Wendy intended to trace it; Isaac told her not to be disappointed if it turned out to be a red herring. The security services were known for using the addresses of nondescript buildings on registrations and official forms. She said she wouldn’t be, and besides, she didn’t give in that easily. Isaac wished her well.

  The day had started well. Marjorie Frobisher was awake and able to talk. Robert Avers was there with her, and even the two children, Sam and Fiona, had been in, although neither stayed long. Apparently, Sam Avers had left
in a huff, and the plain-looking daughter, Fiona, had walked out swearing.

  Jess had phoned, wanted to meet him to discuss things. Isaac had told her he was busy, and that he would get back to her later in the day. He wasn’t sure if he would, as he knew what she wanted to talk about, and he had no excuses. He thought it unusual for him to feel unfaithful to her when he had never actually been faithful to her in the first place, never slept with her, never kissed her apart from two or three times.

  With Wendy out looking for Linda, and Farhan dealing with some long overdue reports, Isaac visited Marjorie Frobisher. Farhan had checked with her husband and the doctor in charge. The doctor’s advice – one person, keep it low-key, friendly. Robert Avers’ advice – similar. He also mentioned that he had told her of the death of Richard Williams, and she was taking it as well as could be expected.

  ***

  As Isaac arrived at the hospital, he noticed that the media contingent had mostly moved on. The police guards outside her room were still diligent, although he knew that if a professional hit were planned, they would not be much use.

  Her room had more flowers than the florist’s shop he visited every Mother’s Day, as well as cards from well-wishers. Her room, more like a five-star hotel suite than a private room in a hospital.

  He moved to the bed, introduced himself, and put out his hand. She shook it limply. Robert Avers acknowledged him with a slight wave of his hand and a weak smile.

  ‘Miss Frobisher.’

  ‘Call me Marjorie.’

  ‘Marjorie, you are aware why I am here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I understand that you are not fully recovered. I don’t want to tax you any more than necessary.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’

  ‘I’m not sure what you want from me.’

  ‘You were missing for a long time.’

  ‘I was frightened.’

  ‘Are you still frightened?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Frightened of whom?’ Isaac realised that too much pressure would make her retreat into her shell.

  ‘Important people.’

  ‘We can protect you.’

  ‘Not against the people who are after me.’

  ‘And do you know why they are after you?’

  ‘Yes. I know something.’

  ‘Are you able to tell me?’

  ‘I don’t know who you are.’

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector Isaac Cook. I showed you my badge.’

  ‘That means nothing.’

  ‘What can be done to remove your fear?’

  ‘Nothing. These people are determined. If you are one of them, or not, makes little difference. Once I leave here, my life will be forfeit.’

  ‘You know that sounds a little melodramatic.’ Isaac realised the conversation was going nowhere as the woman was clearly frightened, and she wasn’t willing to trust him.

  ‘This is not a script from a soap opera, you know. This is real life,’ she said.

  Isaac found the woman to be more intelligent, more astute than he had imagined. She turned away from him and spoke to her husband. ‘Do you know this man?’

  ‘Yes, he came to the house to interview Sam and Fiona.’

  ‘Is he from the police?’

  ‘I’m certain he is. I’ve no reason to doubt him.’

  Returning her gaze to Isaac. ‘I need protection.’

  ‘There’s protection here.’

  ‘How safe am I here?’

  ‘I cannot guarantee total protection. We can find a safe house for you. Will that do?’

  ‘If I tell you the facts?’

  ‘We can take into custody those responsible.’

  ‘You cannot touch them. They killed poor Richard, and all because of me.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Isaac said. ‘What about Charles Sutherland?’

  ‘He knew nothing – thought he did.’

  ‘And Sally Jenkins?’

  ‘Her ears were as big as her breasts. Always snooping. She may have heard too much, but Sutherland…’

  ‘Are you saying that he was lying to the magazine?’

  ‘Of course he was. Some innuendo, salacious gossip, nothing more. Mind you, he could make anything up and sell it to the magazine. He may have discovered the partial truth, but he didn’t know the facts. Got himself killed over it, though.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘He had some dirt on my earlier life. I was a bit of a tart, screwing around before it became fashionable. It’s hardly newsworthy, and the magazine would have kicked him out on his ear soon enough. Those who frighten me know that. I’m surprised they bothered with him.’

  Isaac saw that Sutherland may be a murder, Sally Jenkins – an assassination. As for Richard Williams, it was clear that he had known what Marjorie Frobisher did.

  Appearing to be tired, Isaac left her with her husband holding her hand. He did not look a happy man.

  ***

  Richard Goddard was anxious to know what Marjorie Frobisher was saying. Isaac had promised to give him an update. He had decided that Goddard had done him right in the past, and there was no reason to believe he would do him wrong now.

  ‘She says that Sutherland knew nothing of consequence.’

  ‘Professional hit?’

  ‘According to Marjorie Frobisher, he knew very little.’

  ‘Could his death be unrelated?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘The woman. What have you promised her?’

  ‘Protected witness status. Can you organise a safe house for her?’

  ‘I need something in return.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Give me a murderer, any murderer, within the next few days.’

  ‘Charles Sutherland’s our best bet,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Any luck with Linda Harris?’

  ‘Not yet. Constable Gladstone’s following up on a lead.’

  ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘If she’s MI5, she won’t be found.’

  ‘I hope you weren’t fond of her.’

  ‘No fondness there,’ Isaac replied.

  ‘Let Constable Gladstone get on with it. Can you and DI Ahmed focus on who killed Charles Sutherland? What did Marjorie Frobisher say about Sally Jenkins and Richard Williams?’

  ‘She’s reluctant to say too much. I interpreted her comments to mean that Williams knew what the great secret was, and Sally Jenkins had a tendency to eavesdrop. We should regard their deaths as suspicious.’

  ‘Professional assassinations?’

  ‘It looks to be that way.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll organise the safe house. And I want one murderer under lock and key within two days.’

  ***

  Farhan and Isaac met in the office two hours later. Isaac was concerned that one murder, Charles Sutherland’s, was coming to a resolution but was not certain what it would be. Farhan knew Aisha wasn’t involved, and if there was a murderer under lock and key, as well as a signed confession, then he may be able to protect her.

  ‘We need to go through the possible suspects again,’ Isaac said. It was just the two of them in the office. Wendy had phoned in – she was drawing a blank on the car outside Linda Harris’s accommodation. She made it clear that she was not giving up.

  ‘We can eliminate the two women,’ Farhan said.

  ‘Which two women?’

  ‘The two escorts.’

  ‘The two prostitutes,’ Isaac reaffirmed. Farhan did not like the terminology.

  ‘As you say,’ Farhan agreed.

  ‘Just because you’re involved with one, and the other one you shipped out of the country, doesn’t abrogate them from responsibility.’

  ‘I realise that, but neither knew they were meeting with him in advance. He was just an address to them.’

  ‘Who else then? Christy Nichols?’ Isaac asked.

  ‘You’ve omitted one person,’
Farhan reminded Isaac.

  ‘Jess O’Neill. I’ve not forgotten. Although her motive is not as strong.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Sutherland forced Christy Nichols to perform oral sex on him. With Jess O’Neill, he had attempted to force himself on her, but she managed to get away.’

  ‘That’s true, but he may have reawakened painful memories – memories that wouldn’t go away.’

  ‘We need to call them both into the station,’ Isaac said. He imagined Jess’s reaction would be hostile.

  ***

  It was nine o’clock the next day when the first of the two women arrived. It had been several weeks since Farhan had seen Christy Nichols. Then, she had been a disappointed woman, consigned to being an ‘agony aunt’ for a local newspaper.

  He remembered leaving in a hurry when it had become clear that he was welcome to stay the night. He had to admit when she walked into the police station that she looked exceedingly attractive; he wondered wistfully why he had not seized the opportunity. No longer despondent, she was full of vitality and dressed exceptionally well.

  ‘I found a decent job. Copy editor for a quality magazine. Not that scurrilous publication that Victoria Webster puts out.’

  ‘Good to hear,’ Farhan said, but little more. She was in the police station due to a formal request, and he did not want to appear too friendly. She had brought along a lawyer, Eileen Kerr. The woman, severely dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and thin tie; her voice, rasping and deep, the sign of a heavy smoker. Isaac had encountered her in the past, and he did not like her. He made a point of telling Farhan that the woman was aggressive, competent, and would not take any nonsense.

  They used the same interview room as when Jess O’Neill and Richard Williams had come in. The formalities completed, Isaac led off. ‘Miss Nichols. We have reason to believe that Charles Sutherland’s death was murder.’

  ‘I thought that was clear.’ Eileen Kerr interjected.

  ‘As you say, clear.’

  ‘Miss Nichols, can you please recount the events of that night.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘I understand your reticence, but we need to ensure that nothing was missed, no matter how minor.’