Hidden Power

by Judith Cutler

  Kate moistened her lips with the tea. ‘As you’re all no doubt aware, Detective Sergeant Barnard and I were supposed to play the roles of an unhappy couple. As I’m sure you’re also aware, this hostility seemed to become real, and Superintendent Knowles and DO Earnshaw suggested that we should be separated. I’m sure they’ve supplied you with details.’

  Earnshaw brandished a half-eaten biscuit and spoke through the crumbs: ‘Barnard seems to have played some prank on Power: but she wouldn’t say what it was. He seemed to respect her a bit more after that;’

  ‘What sort of prank?’ the chief superintendent demanded.

  ‘Locker-room stuff, sir,’ Kate replied. ‘We spoke very little about our previous undercover experiences. I got the impression that something had—disturbed him—during one of his assignments.’

  ‘Are you suggesting he’s gone off to find a shrink?’

  ‘Far from it, sir. He thought counselling was a waste of time.’ She raised a placatory hand. ‘No, we didn’t argue about it. In fact, I made an extra effort to find him work in his capacity as jobbing gardener at the Cockwood Sophisticasun. But I was just wondering if something I’d said had triggered some sort of memory. That’s all.’

  Both the senior officers looked uncomfortable. Did Craig’s record show something? No one would say anything here, of course.

  At last the chief superintendent said, ‘I’ll let the team searching for him know. Thanks, Power. Did I gather you’re due for promotion, by the way?’

  ‘Sir.’

  ‘Hmm. All right, Power—that seems to be all that immediately concerns you. If you’re unwell, perhaps you might wish to go off duty now?’

  Not bloody likely. Even though the, bruise was smarting, and her head ached viciously in a quite different place, there was no way she was leaving yet. She managed a smile. ‘If you don’t mind, Sir, I’d rather hear what data’s come to light so far. It’ll help when I go back into work on Saturday.’

  ‘Saturday?’ He frowned. It was impossible to tell from his expression whether he thought she was over-keen or malingering.

  ‘Both the police surgeon and Gary Vernon thought tomorrow was too soon, sir. And Mr Vernon’s persuaded the agency to let me work four hours cleaning the apartments as opposed to the public areas during changeover on Saturday morning. That way I can see if they’ve all got surveillance cameras—and indeed, anything else of note. There’s also a chance I may get to talk to some of the owners. There was a feeling at the Hythe complex that management might be letting maintenance standards slide in order to pressure people out. I wondered if that might ring any bells here.’

  ‘I thought there was talk of your going swimming in the residents’ pool,’ Earnshaw put in.

  ‘When I realised I knew some of the executives gathered there this week, I thought I might be recognised. So I abandoned the idea, till everyone went home, at least.’

  ‘This man who assaulted you,’ Earnshaw put in, ‘Gregorie Phipps. You recognised him: are you sure he didn’t recognise you? At any point?’

  Dear God! He might just have done this morning!

  Her expression must have given her away.

  ‘You think he might?’

  ‘Not last night. Not with the wig and funny, make-up—I was dressed up as a character from a children’s book, Sir,’ she explained, switching her attention back to the Chief Superintendent. ‘But of course this morning I wore normal make-up and my hair like this.’ She lifted a strand. ‘You’ll be relieved to know it’s not my normal cut and colour. But I wouldn’t rule it out.’

  Earnshaw said slowly, ‘If he didn’t recognise you, does it make it more or less likely that it was he who hit you? And if he recognised you when you shoved him into the holly, does it make him more or less likely to sue you?’

  ‘If it wasn’t he who assaulted Power, who else did?’

  ‘God knows. I wouldn’t rule out that Vernon man, if Kate was looking somewhere she shouldn’t. After all, it wasn’t a hard blow.’

  ‘He’d have to be a bloody good actor, then—he looked aghast when I showed him what had happened.’ Unlike some of you lot here. ‘But you’re right, of course. He did his best to lay the blame on to Gregorie, too, saying he’d been on the complex all morning.’

  As if making a decision, the Superintendent rose too, pulling a white board towards his boss. In Kate’s experience the special felt pens never worked, or were the wrong sorts eventually needing alcohol to get the pigment off the board.

  ‘Let us review what we’ve found so far,’ he said. The discoveries might have been his own. ‘There is still nothing yet, Power, on the man in the Land Rover you encountered near Chagford. Kenneth Hemmings. The paperwork you’ve managed to obtain seems to have been almost exclusively about office greenery, I’m afraid.

  Back in Birmingham, in Sue’s room, Kate would have punched the air. Here she refrained. ‘In that case, Sir, may I suggest we’re on to something. Office greenery? The state of their office plants is lamentable. I know. I’ve been trying to resuscitate one of them. I had to bring in flowers for the conference room for all those bigwigs, and Mrs Vernon provided the vases. If they had a legitimate contract with an office landscapes firm, something would have been done.’ She subsided. She’d forgotten she didn’t want Vernon implicated. But she had to add, didn’t she, ‘As a matter of fact, a consignment of office plants did arrive yesterday. Vernon was checking them in in a far corner of the Sophisticasun’s grounds. I passed the details on to Chief Inspector Earnshaw.’

  ‘If you’re sure, we’ll look into it again. The faxes for other executives were more interesting. We’re having them translated. It seems as if they’re Spanish and Portuguese legal papers. Very fancy affairs, like those originals you—er—retrieved,’ he added, disparagingly. Then, for the first time, he smiled at her. ‘Now, the photographs were interesting: we’ve sent mug shots down line and we’re awaiting responses from our colleagues in Major Fraud, and also in Customs and Excise. Some familiar faces, there, we hope.’

  ‘Sir—would it be possible to send them through to NCIS too—just in case there’s a drugs connection?’

  He made a silent note. ‘What I’d like to do at some juncture is play through the recordings we made of the conference, of activities in Vernon’s room and at their cocktail party. Again we’ve sent the information off to other parties. But after our little chat this afternoon, Power, I’d welcome your input.’ He looked at his watch. ‘First of all, though, gentlemen—oh, and ladies!—I suggest we adjourn to the canteen.’

  Oh, and ladies! No wonder Earnshaw was such a battle-axe if she’d had to put up with that all her working life. She’d neither received sisterly loyalty, nor, clearly, been in the habit of giving it. What would she have been like with more support, more kindness?

  ‘You know, you’re beginning to look peaky,’ Earnshaw observed, falling into step with her. ‘For God’s sake don’t give up now.’

  ‘No, Ma’am.’ She must not stagger.

  ‘If I could run some aspirins to earth, would that help? Though I’ve an idea you’re not supposed to take them after a bang on the head. Perhaps the quack should have insisted on having it X-rayed.’

  ‘I’m sure some aspirins will be OK.’

  ‘Go and suck up to Them Upstairs then. I’ll see what I can do. There’s this DC in my squad always moaning about period pains…’

  Sucking up was difficult, since Them Upstairs had hunched themselves round a table, unwilling to accommodate anyone else. Someone like Earnshaw would no doubt be able to elbow her way in, but not a stranger they already viewed with hostility. What was going on here? It seemed like the old bad days in the Met people had talked about.

  Except as she hovered, with her tray, the ranks parted, Red Sea for Moses. A space. By the Chief Superintendent, no less. He patted the seat.

  But she stayed on her feet: yes, here was old Earnshaw bustling along. ‘Better wait for my “mum”, Sir, if you don’t mind.’

&n
bsp; He blinked. Then coughed. ‘Well, we’d better make room for her, too, then, hadn’t we? You’re taking this undercover business very seriously, then?’

  ‘Not seriously enough, I’m afraid. You didn’t see a contract cleaner in front of you this afternoon, did you, Sir? You saw a rather disreputable junior officer desperately in need of a haircut. And the vocabulary, the speech patterns, were all those of an educated woman. To be really successful undercover, you need to abandon thirty years of family and education and not just live the part: you need to be it. That’s why Craig’s so good. If he’d been there this afternoon you’d have seen a loutish jobbing gardener almost certainly defrauding the government by claiming the dole.’

  He nodded. ‘So what’s your take on the Craig business? Psychological crisis apart.’

  ‘I haven’t one, Sir. He made damned sure I never knew the real Craig at all. He certainly knew more about me than I did about him. And was rightly hard on me when I dropped out of role.’

  ‘Past tense, Power? You think the worst?’

  ‘Sir, I only know what’s been said this afternoon. There must be officers much closer to him than I. There are also the friends he stayed with… There was one called Macker—ginger-haired with very large ears: the trouble is, I’ve no idea where he lived.’

  ‘We’ve spoken to him. Craig was sleeping on his floor. He seems straight enough—in fact it was he who reported Craig missing.’

  Kate managed a vestigial nod. ‘The thing is, in many ways Craig’s a good old-fashioned cop: he really hated hanging around waiting for something to happen. My slow waiting game really drove him mad.’

  ‘But to do you justice it seems to be paying off. Especially the stuff you got at the Vernons’. I’d like to get you in there again, so you can have a real root around.’

  Like a pig nosing out truffles. ‘With respect, Sir, if anyone has to do that, I don’t see how it can be me. Not with the relationship I have with the children. Especially after last night. Elly saved my bacon.’

  ‘Well, of course, we did have officers ready to intervene if necessary,’ he blustered.

  ‘Of course. But all the Vernons believe that it was Elly’s doing. And it was Elly I trusted. Her parents have been kind to me—yes, kind. I’d apply that equally to Gary and Julie. He even scouted round looking for me when he saw my bike being taken off on a tow-truck this morning.’ Was it really only this morning? If only Earnshaw would produce those aspirins soon. ‘He’s put me in the way of extra work.’ She grimaced. ‘As for his being a good boss, I have to admit I’ve had far worse in my time in the service.’

  ‘So you don’t want him to be a scrote?’

  She looked from him to her soup and back again. ‘I hope he isn’t. Because his wife’s very ill. I don’t know how ill. But I’d hate to see him doing a long stretch and those kids being effectively orphaned and put into care.’

  ‘If people break the law they have to suffer.’

  ‘Agreed. One hundred per cent. But we all know that when a man’s imprisoned his whole family’s punished too. That’s what I’m afraid of here.’

  ‘So, say we find he’s at the heart of a drugs ring, laundering money and practising a little extortion on the side. What then?’

  ‘Sir,’ she said, helpless in the tightening vice of pain, ‘you know the evidence. I don’t. You’d know what the charges would be.’

  ‘Serious, let’s say. So he should be locked up and the key thrown away. What then?’

  She shook her head and knew she shouldn’t have. She pushed away the soup hardly tasted, although it was very good.

  ‘You ask me, you should be in bed with Knowles,’ he boomed, his laughter igniting other guffaws, which rolled around the table.

  She knew she must eat. Or she’d be sick. What if she did eat and was still sick? The latter was the better option, especially with aspirins in prospect.

  There was a general movement back to the conference room. Alert. She must be alert. Your country needs Lerts!

  ‘You’d better have these,’ Earnshaw said, barging over to her. ‘Before you pop your clogs.’

  • • •

  The head might be pounding less, but now all she wanted to do was sleep. Pity the DC with menstrual problems hadn’t gone in for something containing caffeine. Never mind. She could follow the tape, and was making what looked like intelligible notes.

  The uniformed team had been joined by a knot of younger, plain-clothes people, men and women, all looking as knackered as she felt. And somewhat less happy to be there.

  One, face like a tired monkey’s, was saying he had two sorts of tape for them: copies of the originals and computer-enhanced ones. The one recorded through the conference room wall first.

  No. It was terribly muffled. Even Kate’s young ears couldn’t make much of it. The senior officers’ faces suggested complete bafflement. And yet—and yet, Kate started to pick out fragments, as if she were listening to a language she dimly remembered. This time when she jotted, it was genuine notes, not neat doodles. Pressure. That cropped up several times. Persuasion. Laughter each time that came up. And then, yes, surely, cameras.

  At the end of the recording, everyone looked up, as if hoping for a prize at the end of a party game. Then came the enhanced version—not, to many ears there, judging by the expressions on people’s faces, much better. Kate looked across at the tired monkey: he looked infinitely pleased with himself. Why, when he saw how many people were flummoxed, didn’t he circulate a transcript?

  ‘Of course,’ Tired Monkey said, ‘we don’t know the names of most of these people. That’s the problem.’

  ‘Power? Any ideas?’

  ‘I tried to get hold of a delegate list, Sir. But failed. Sorry. Interestingly, I hardly recognised any of the voices.’

  ‘What about your assailant? Gregorie Phipps?’

  ‘He’s the one talking about persuasion. In connection with surveillance equipment. Now, I was convinced that cameras were in place in Sophisticasun’s Hythe complex. In the old apartments, though not, as far as I could see, in the new ones.’

  ‘So are they using the surveillance cameras in some sort of blackmail scam?’ Earnshaw put in. ‘Some sort of “persuasion”?’

  Kate scratched her head. ‘But most of the owners are—well, let’s just say they don’t seem likely to indulge in blackmailable activity. I know they’re now targeting young professionals as buyers, but most of the owners I’ve seen have been decidedly elderly.’

  ‘All the same, it could make sense. Perhaps if Mr X took someone with him who wasn’t Mrs X.’

  ‘They were very keen to know that I was part of a stable couple,’ Kate reflected. ‘But I assumed that that was because they wanted two incomes.’

  ‘It’s hardly surprising they’re trying to ease old inhabitants out in whatever way they can,’ the chief superintendent said, ‘if you look at the difference between the maintenance costs for the new and the old flats. And if you look at what they’re selling the new ones for.’ He in turn produced paperwork. ‘Thanks to Kate Power, we have a set of proposed prices. You’ll see that a one-bedroom refurbished apartment costs three times as much in maintenance charges—quite a nice profit to the company. And that the selling price—and don’t forget the company gets a thirty per cent cut of any sale—more than twice as much. Unfortunately, until we can prove some element of coercion, all we can say is that this is very sharp business management.’

  Kate couldn’t claim any praise. The information sheet must have been tucked into some of the papers she’d saved from the shredder. Still, it was something they had that they might not have had otherwise.

  ‘We’ve also had those fancy documents translated, Sir,’ Tired Monkey continued. ‘Whatever language they’re in, the message seems to be the same. They’re agreements to sell the apartment in question to some overseas client, for a very great deal of money: two or three times what the place is worth. Even at the new prices. All the client has to do is sign them an
d send them off with a nice fat administration fee—’

  ‘How much is fat?’

  ‘Nearly a thousand pounds, Sir. Our guess is that the money disappears—into an unofficial Sophisticasun bank account…’

  ‘…and the sale never takes place. So, once they’ve been nicely softened up and are a good deal poorer, official Sophisticasun people leap in with a box of tissues and an offer of their own—considerably lower.’

  ‘And if they won’t sell, then they blackmail—or “persuade” them—into selling,’ Kate concluded. ‘I should imagine Gregorie might make a good persuader. I wonder—?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Whether he participates in anything that could lead to blackmail. I should imagine he might be willing. Depending on the age of the other participant, of course. But it would be quite dodgy. This guy seduces a woman—presumably—and then says, we’ve got you on film: sell up or we show it to your husband. No, too far-fetched.’ She shook her head. ‘Hell. Why didn’t I think of it before? The photographs! When my head was clocked this morning, I was looking in the deep-freeze. Ready-made snack. And what seemed to be undeveloped film and maybe some photos!’

  ‘Seems to me, Power,’ the chief superintendent said dryly, ’that you’d better go home right now and have an early night. Get into Sophisticasun first thing tomorrow and let us know if they’re still there. Better still, bring a few home to “Mum” as souvenirs!’

  Chapter 27

  Kate supposed there should have been something comforting in the sound of Earnshaw’s deep and regular breathing.

  They were at Kate’s house, since that was where her bike had been taken and because Kate sensed an unspoken reluctance on the older woman’s part to stay on her own in her cottage, although the SOCO team had finished with the place. They’d not had much in the way of conversation: Kate had only managed to strip and remake Craig’s bed for her before collapsing into her own and sleeping the sleep of the just until the snores from Craig’s room woke her. The penalties of living in a modern house: Earnshaw’s walls were so solid that not even these Vèsuvian rumbles had penetrated.