Death Watch

by Deborah Lucy

  ‘And the first?’

  ‘Change of tyres at the front and air con service check,’ said Hussain. Temple got into the driver’s seat of the Porsche and Hussain followed into the passenger side.

  ‘What did you do with her keys when the car was in here for a service?’

  ‘They were hung up over there.’ Hussain nodded towards a rack with a number of keys hanging from it.

  ‘Were Greta’s house keys on the same key ring?’ asked Temple.

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Did she leave them there when the car was in the garage?’

  ‘Yes, she did,’ Hussain replied, puzzled.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because when I delivered the car back to her, after the second time it was booked in, she texted me to tell me to let myself into the house and go and see her in her bedroom.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘You asked me, man, when you were interviewing me, whether I had been in the bedroom, well, that was when I was there. She was ready for me. All fancy underwear, lying on the bed, bottle of wine chilling. What was I to do? What would you have done, man?’

  ‘Probably the same as you. And was this before or after you received the photographs?’ asked Temple.

  ‘After, man. That’s why she asked me to the house. So no one could see us.’

  ‘How long was the car in for?’

  ‘A day. It’s a day for an MOT.’

  Temple left the Porsche garage and drove back to Marlborough Police Station. He went back into the incident room and picked up his mobile charger and his policy book. Clearing his desk and two drawers, he put the contents into a cardboard box and took it with him. Going downstairs to leave the station, he was met by Sophie Twiner in the foyer.

  ‘I’m going to serve a harassment notice on you,’ Temple joked.

  ‘My visit today is strictly professional,’ she replied. ‘What do you know about a man found badly beaten in the early hours of this morning? A guy called Zac Finch?’

  Temple feigned disinterest and kept moving. He needed to get in his car and get away. She followed him as he walked.

  ‘Why don’t you ring the press office?’ he suggested.

  ‘I have. There’s no one there and I just got the usual voice message. So I thought I’d come and ask—’ she said.

  ‘I’ve no idea. I can’t help you. Call the hospital. Look, I have to go.’ He wanted to get to a computer to look at the overnight logs and find out about Finch.

  ‘What’s in the box?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m on the move,’ he replied. His answers to her questions were curt as his mind was on the visit from PSD and the prospect of a further visit from them. His shortness wasn’t lost on Sophie.

  ‘Are we still on for a drink some time?’ she asked, a little perplexed at his attitude.

  ‘Yes, sure, call me,’ he replied, wanting to end the conversation and realizing she wouldn’t get out of his way until she heard something positive.

  Temple put the box in the boot of his car and drove off. She had, however, given information he didn’t know. He’d need to find his new desk.

  Pulling into the car park, he looked up at Melksham Police Station. Temple went in through a side door and up to the DI’s office, where he put the box onto a desk. He logged onto the force computer. He looked at the Command and Control log and scrolling down, saw the report of Zac Finch being found by the ten to six night crew and taken to Great Western Hospital. They would have contacted Tara by now so it was no use him ringing her to tell her something she already knew.

  His mobile rang, it was Kelly.

  ‘Boss, I’ve just finished with Jonathan Silvester,’ she said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘Once I told him that we had the call on record from the mobile company, he said that James had rung him from a friend’s house, asking him to go and get him. He said that he refused to go, telling him to stay where he was for the night. When I said the call came from Wedwellow House, he just said that James had said he was at his friend’s house.’

  ‘The bloke’s a fucking liar,’ said Temple. ‘James never went back to school, he was with Jonathan. Look, Kel, you might not see me for a day or two, but I’m on the end of the phone. Should anyone ask, you’re finishing the file and I’ve moved to Melksham. Let me know if there’s any news on the cigarette butt.’

  Temple knew the next forty-eight hours would be crucial. He also knew he had to keep a low profile. If he stayed at his desk, he’d be easy to find in the likelihood of another visit from PSD regarding Roger. He felt he at least ought to make them work to find him if they wanted to arrest him. Thinking about what he had done even now, he couldn’t feel sorry for attacking Roger but he knew it would cause him a whole lot of trouble. In any event, he was supposed to be off the inquiry; in fact, as far as Harker was concerned, there was no inquiry. It was closed.

  Temple knew he just had to keep out of the way and hope that something worked in his favour. He’d keep on the move and work out of his car at least until he had explored every avenue with the case; his last case. Then they could have him. Just as they’ d found the blue t-shirt, he’ d be kicked out.

  Temple unpacked the box and put the things out on the empty desk. It at least looked as though he had complied with PSD. He then called Superintendent Brown confirming his move. It was Saturday and Brown was having the weekend off.

  ‘A report came in this morning,’ said Temple. ‘Zac Finch took a beating so if it’s OK with you, I’ll start taking a look at it.’

  Having been interrupted whilst shopping in a lingerie boutique with his girlfriend, Brown was only too happy to comply with Temple’s suggestion.

  CHAPTER 42

  IT WAS DUSK when Temple made his way up to Great Western Hospital. Having made the inquiry at the reception desk, he found Finch in a small, six-bed ward with only two other patients. He approached the bed and seeing that Finch was sleeping, pulled the privacy curtain around them. Temple sat in a chair that was next to the bed and waited for Finch to open his eyes.

  Temple looked at his swollen face; Finch was a mess. His eyes were black, badly bruised and there was a deep cut above his right eye. His nose was broken and there were blue bruises and red scratch marks and grazes all over the rest of his face. A drip fed saline into one arm, while the other was in a temporary plaster. A crisply starched cotton sheet and a thin synthetic coverlet hid the rest of the damage to his body. When a nurse appeared in a gap in the curtain, Temple left momentarily while she woke Finch to take his temperature. When the nurse left, he went back in behind the curtain. Finch, unaware of his presence until now, looked at him, expressionless, through the blue-black slits his eyes had become.

  ‘Hello, Finch,’ Temple said, with a false cheerfulness.

  ‘What the fuck do you want?’ Finch replied. His voice, although deep and groggy, somehow managed to find its way out of his swollen and bruised lips.

  ‘Just looking in on you. See how you are.’

  ‘I fucking told you I’d end up like this, didn’t I?’ he struggled to say.

  ‘That’s why I’m here. Who did it, Finch?’

  The question caused a reflex action which made Finch inhale more air than he could manage. He started to cough but his cracked ribs wouldn’t let him achieve the intake of breath he needed for it to be effective. Finch struggled to lean forward to alleviate his pain, which only served to cause him more discomfort.

  ‘As if you don’t know,’ he spoke as if it was his last breath.

  ‘Well, I’m guessing it was Munt and his associates. And in the usual tradition, you’ll deny it because you don’t want to grass on anyone and all I can do is give you an Osman warning.’ The formal letter informing someone that they may be in danger was scorned in criminal circles. ‘Don’t come crying to us’ was its basic message and a legal let off from a duty of care to criminals who chose to keep lawless company and then fell foul of their criminal brothers.

  ‘You
can shove it up your arse. Too fucking late for that,’ breathed Finch.

  ‘I know who did this to you. If you’ll let me, I can lock him up,’ said Temple.

  ‘Fuck off, Temple. I ain’t some fucking kid.’

  ‘If you won’t tell me who did it, then tell me why they did it.’

  ‘They thought I was keeping the gun. Thought I’d taken it off of Paul King,’ Finch mumbled.

  ‘What gun?’

  ‘The gun King says he got from your house.’

  ‘The fantasy gun. There was no gun.’

  ‘You would say that,’ Finch struggled to say.

  ‘Did you see it, Finch? Did you?’

  ‘Why would he lie?’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh. Did you see a gun, Finch?’

  Finch made no reply.

  ‘Well? Did you see a gun? If he’d had a gun he would have shared that knowledge with you and shown you, so did you see it?’

  Finch shook his head.

  ‘Look, I told you before, he’s trying to set me up. You got caught in the crossfire because you put him up when he came out. He wants his revenge for his sentence. He told me he would kill me and my family and when he got out. He torched my house. He gets recalled to prison and starts directing things from his cell. You know as well as I do that guns are valuable currency. Do you really think that King would let a gun slip through his fingers when he could make a load of cash out of it?’

  Temple needed to deflect Finch’s attention away from his flat, where the gun was last placed in the holdall by King. It wouldn’t take even Finch’s limited intelligence to work out who might have moved the gun, placing Tara squarely in the sights of Finch and Munt. Temple, sensing he had Finch’s attention, continued.

  ‘How would I have a gun, Finch? I’m a detective, not a firearms officer. He gets put back in prison in his cell because he’s torched my house, but still he has to get his revenge on me – only now, he’s really pissy because he thought he was staying out. The lazy bastards in custody don’t search him properly, so they don’t find the mobile phone stashed up his arse, so he’s on the phone straightaway to his mates on the outside. What’s he do? He has to motivate his mates somehow. So, he tells them there’s a gun on the end of it and you and I know they’ll work all day and night to get hold of a gun. You work it out.’

  Reluctant at first, slowly, Finch was convinced.

  They were interrupted, as Tara appeared through the curtain. Seeing Temple, she was a little wary but she had listened to some of the conversation before entering. This advantage meant she was self-possessed enough to face both Temple and Finch; she was also begrudgingly thankful for Temple’s intervention. She went round the side of the bed and kissed Finch on the only space she could find on the side of his head that was free of bruising.

  ‘You look better,’ she said to Finch, lying.

  Temple stood up to leave, mindful of the need to afford some distance between himself, Finch and Tara, particularly when they were in such close company. Playing her part to perfection in the presence of Finch to hide her complicity, and with some conviction, Tara rounded on Temple.

  ‘Look at him, I hope you’re going to find out who did this.’

  Finch waved his hand in protest.

  ‘Leave it, Tar,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I hope you’ve told him who did this to you,’ she said, her voice rising.

  ‘I’ve taken some details,’ said Temple.

  ‘I want to know that you’re going to do something about it. Catch the animals that did this. Fucking animals.’ Even though Tara was speaking to Temple, she avoided eye contact with him now by concentrating on Finch.

  ‘I’ll be off now, Zac,’ said Temple, aware that each of them were playing off each other and wanting to end the charade for all their sakes.

  Temple left the hospital. He walked out into the dark night and back to his car. He was thinking about Finch. In his jacket pocket, his mobile phone rang.

  ‘Is that Detective Inspector Temple?’

  ‘Speaking,’ Temple answered.

  ‘Now you’ve seen what we can do to Finch, I think it’s about time we had a chat.’

  ‘And who are you?’ asked Temple.

  ‘Elijah Fortune, boy.’

  ‘And what could we possibly have to talk about?’

  ‘You’ve got something I want. You’ve got a gun. If you give me the gun, I’ll call Paul King off you.’

  ‘I haven’t got a gun. Even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.’

  ‘Perhaps you want a cut, a piece of the action as they say. I’m not beyond a deal.’

  ‘There’ll be no deal, Elijah. I’m not for sale.’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘Your wife’s pretty, isn’t she, boy? Perhaps you’ve given the gun to her, to protect herself, just in case someone attacks her in her room at The Bell Hotel. You can’t be too careful. I’ll ring you in the morning to see if you’ve changed your mind. We’ll arrange a meet.’

  Temple considered getting police cover but knew he had to deal with Munt and the Fortunes on his own. There was no way he would give the gun to them, so all the time they threatened him and his family, he had to keep it.

  ‘There’s no gun, Elijah,’ repeated Temple.

  ‘Yes, there is, boy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,’ came the reply. ‘Now I want it back.’ The call terminated.

  CHAPTER 43

  LEIGH PUT DAISY in the double bed back at Jane’s.

  ‘You’ve got to sort this,’ she hissed at Temple, as they both stood in the bedroom.

  ‘I’m just trying to look after you both,’ he said.

  ‘Well, you’re not. I’ve got a perfectly good home of my own and I want to go back to it. Staying in a hotel’s one thing, being dragged around other people’s houses is another. I don’t even know the woman. She didn’t know what to say when you turned up with us,’ said Leigh, referring to Jane. ‘I suppose you’re screwing her,’ she said, doing her best to keep her voice down so that Daisy couldn’t hear their conversation. She was angry at having to rely on the hospitality of a stranger.

  ‘Hey, no, I’m not,’ he said. Leigh looked back at him, desperate to believe him. ‘She’s helping me out by letting me stay here and now she’s helping you out. Look, I’ll sort it, tomorrow. For now, just stay here.’

  ‘I want to go home tomorrow,’ she said, looking at him. ‘I want us all to go home tomorrow, I want us all back together,’ she said quietly. She had calmed down on Temple’s reassurance about Jane.

  ‘So do I,’ he replied.

  ‘You’ll come back?’ asked Leigh.

  ‘You told me to go in the first place,’ he reminded her. ‘Of course I want to come back.’

  He went to move towards her to hold her but at that moment, his mobile rang, which took all his attention. Leigh threw up her arms in exasperation at the interruption. He turned away from her to take the call.

  ‘Is that DI Temple? This is the Control Room. I’ve been asked to pass on a message to you. You’ve placed a marker on PNC for an Ian Turner?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘An evening crew have stopped a man in a car at Cadley. He gave an alias Ian John Taylor which has come back with the marker on it, real name Ian Turner.’

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Temple, his attention focused completely on the caller. There was a pause. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘They’re going to ring you. I’ll give them your mobile number.’

  The call ended. Temple looked at his mobile, frustrated at the caller. A minute later, his mobile rang again.

  ‘You’ve stopped a man called Ian John Taylor,’ said Temple, without waiting for any introduction.

  ‘Yes, sir, out at Cadley.’

  ‘What direction was he travelling from?’

  ‘From Swindon.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘He’s driven off. We stopped him for a rear light out and as we couldn’t hold him before the PNC check came back, we
let him go. There was a delay in PNC getting back to us but as soon as they did, we alerted Control Room to contact you,’ a PC explained.

  ‘What was he driving?’ asked Temple.

  ‘A hire car, sir, a black Ford Focus, we’ve got the registration number.’

  ‘Where was it hired from?’ Temple asked.

  ‘Hertz at Swindon.’

  ‘And how long ago did you stop him?’ Temple was ready to calculate how far he could have gone in the intervening time.

  ‘He drove off about ten to fifteen minutes ago. We’ve put out observations on the vehicle to locate and stop.’

  ‘What direction did he go in?’

  ‘Back towards Swindon.’

  ‘Right, I need him traced but I don’t want him stopped. I want him followed,’ Temple instructed. ‘If you locate him, you ring me immediately and I’ll get the crime car on him. He’s required to help with inquiries in a murder investigation. Go and check an address in Ramsbury while you’re at it, Wedwellow House, it’s a crime scene and he might go back there.’

  Temple called up the Control Room and requested a scene guard to be reinstated to Wedwellow House and then asked them to put him into contact with the night duty crime car. An unmarked police vehicle driven by a pursuit trained officer, with a DS as co-passenger had a remit to respond to any serious crime that occurred during the night and direct initial inquiries. Temple knew that in light of the force surveillance unit engaged on Harker’s inquiry and disappearing up their own arse in south London, this was all that would be available to him. Having established contact, he was explicit in his instruction.

  ‘As soon as the Focus is located, it’s crucial that you don’t stop it; I want it to lead us to where he’s staying where I think there will be evidence that relates to a murder.’

  Pleased to be able to have a worthwhile task rather than waiting for Control Room to direct them to anything they saw fit, the crime car crew were instantly galvanized.

  ‘You must only follow – and for fuck’s sake – if you find it, don’t lose it. And ring me immediately,’ ordered Temple.

  Temple drove out towards Ramsbury. He drove past Wedwellow House and sat outside until the scene guard arrived. He then drove around the village until he was content that Turner wasn’t there. Temple knew Turner could be anywhere, but he was convinced that he had been on his way to Wedwellow House when he was stopped. For him to have been found so near Ramsbury couldn’t have been a coincidence, he thought. Crayling had been right, he’d kept the camera in the hall running and he’d heard the conversation he’d had with Kelly.