by Hylton Smith
“Yes, we have two units, each operating on a four hour shift basis. Why, is there a problem?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know about the possibility of Daniel coming home. Then I began to think – how did Frank know he was in hospital in the first place? I’ve got so used to him giving us information, and assuming he knew everything we did, that I missed that one. Of course he follows us around – The Priory, Chopwell Woods, Chollerford, and I suppose he has watched my house to see when he could break in. But I did ask him if he knew what he was looking for when taking Donoghue’s forensic report on Rory Davenport, or whether he’d just found it amongst other stuff. He said that was for me to find out. And now I’m wondering about Daniel and Jane.”
“Mmm, that is strange. Do you think he did know about Donoghue’s report?”
“Well, I couldn’t find anything else of any significance amongst the stuff I took home to read. I can’t really understand why he would break in, risking being caught, unless there was something specific he wanted. Also, at the time I surprised him and Friend, I would normally have been home. It bothers me that he might have known I was on my way to Edinburgh and he knew Daniel was the reason, but how?”
“Do you think he has a mole in our team?”
“I’m not suggesting that, but stranger things have happened. We have taken these two young guys on courtesy of Bradstock, and he may have said something inadvertently while arranging their temporary transfer.”
“There’s another possibility though, Steph’s new boyfriend.”
“Surely not Ben, she wouldn’t talk about the case to someone she’s just met.”
“Maybe, but you know where there’s passion involved, there’s a weakness. Sorry Boss, you wouldn’t know about that would you? Seriously, if you think there is a conduit, we should pursue it as a matter of protocol. I’ll put out some feelers right away as I’m about to have another whiteboard session with them.”
“Thanks Ben, I’ll let you know if Daniel gets discharged. It may all come to nothing anyway; I’d have thought Frank would have published my misdemeanour with the forensic report by now.”
*
Their faces said it all. Stephanie wanted to pore her way through Gerry Walton’s diary. Sam had papers all over his desk, some obscuring his mid-morning sausage butty, and the young guns were printing off what they thought were relevant posts on the Lindisfarne scenario.
“Look, we have to do this. Sam, you said yourself that if we found Driscoll was in the list of victims we’d have to explain it. Well then, let’s start with that. He’s the fourth definite contributor to the puzzle and we can’t make sense of it? That’s not acceptable I’m afraid, the media are hovering over us again with this Lindisfarne business.”
He sketched in what Greg Watson had told him about the time and cause of death. This did fire up their interest. Stephanie asked about the victim’s skin.
“What exactly do you mean Steph?”
“Frank claims his unfortunates have been ‘treated’ to bring them to peace. Friend had that awful frazzled skin and I noticed he had slightly darker, circular areas near his temples. Maybe he overshot with Radcliffe?”
Adams immediately picked up the phone to Watson.
“Hi Greg, you didn’t mention anything about Radcliffe’s skin, was it normal?”
“Mostly, however there are signs of puckering in patches, why do you ask?”
“It just occurred to Stephanie that Friend, you know the big guy who is one of Frank’s helpers, has badly affected skin, following some treatment designed to help him.”
“I know who you mean. I didn’t really see much of him when he was here so it’s difficult for me to comment on any similarity.”
“She says she noticed similar ‘burn circles’ on his temples.”
“Right, well that is interesting. If the process is the same, then it’s logical that it wouldn’t have been propagated in Radcliffe’s case, because his body functions were terminated, as opposed to this other chap. It certainly is worth looking into; can we bring this fellow in again?”
“Not really, he’s gone missing. Thanks Greg, I’ll bring him in if we can find him.”
The discussion resumed and Sam said it made sense.
“If we rewind a little, there was this difference in how he treated the armless and legless victims compared to the others. Radcliffe is one of the others – guilty of something, according to Frank. The unfortunates receive partial exposure to this treatment to give them a better life, but stopping short of a lethal dose.”
“Ok,” said Adams enthusiastically, “so where does this idea take us?”
He saw only blank faces.
Chapter 27
“So Steph, did David go with you on your Samaritan trip with Alex Blake?”
“No, he couldn’t make it, why?”
“I’m just curious about him. You’ve never brought him to meet your colleagues when we have a drink after work.”
“We haven’t been to the pub for weeks Sir, so that would have been difficult.”
“Does he have a second name?”
“Of course he has a surname, it’s Miller, David Miller, what the hell is this really about?”
“Hey, take it easy, I’m simply pleased you have found something else in your life other than this stuff. With everything that’s going on, we don’t get much chance for small talk. If you think I’m being intrusive just say so. I wish I had someone to take my mind off the grind now and then. I hope it goes well for you.”
“Sorry Sir, I get a lot of this third degree from my mates. They say he’s very nice one minute and then tell me I know nothing about him. It’s so annoying. He’s hoping to become a partner in his company this year. He doesn’t talk about his work much, but I know he’s a financial analyst with Northern Portfolio Services in town. We just hit it off because we enjoy the same things. I understand his reticence to talk about his work. I almost lost the chance of promotion over that mistake I made, by contacting the Cologne police without informing the Boss, a couple of years ago. I won’t let anything of that nature stand in my way again, and he’s the same. We won’t be together longer than this mutual respect lasts, as we’re both too selfish to commit to anything except our careers. I’ll ask him if he wants to have a beer next time we go to the pub. Thanks for asking.” Adams smiled and asked Sam to come into the office.
“What do we know about the new boys other than what their official personnel files tell us?”
“Nothing I guess, is there a problem?”
“No, it’s just that they aren’t really proactive are they?
“I suppose not, they just do what they’re told and then stop until I give them something else. I thought that’s what we wanted. I’m very happy with them for now because it’s legwork we need. In fact I was going to suggest that we don’t need to always have them in the brainstorming sessions. It slows down their work-rate and they don’t contribute much to the lateral thinking approach.”
“This is a high profile case Sam, and there are all of our other subordinates who we kind of take for granted, maybe you’re right, let’s leave them out of the ‘think tank’ meetings at present. Do you think they talk about the case with their old mates?”
“Who knows? Do you want me to run a few checks? Remember I spent most of my career in Middlesbrough. I can do an ‘old pals’ reunion act and see if there’s any smoke from elsewhere in the Three Rivers Force.”
“Good idea. Now then, Steph is going through this diary from Gerry Walton, so what do you think about Driscoll? The others didn’t have much to say.”
“I haven’t moved from the position that the links could be to people Frank didn’t want to die, apart from Radcliffe. I have to agree with Steph that although we have four identities of the deceased at the Priory, we only have a link of two of them to a living person, and that is Alex Blake. His has a direct connection to his mother obviously, and by birth date to Reginald Powell, whereas links to the other
s may be alive or dead, and probably indirect or even obscure. I’d be going through that diary with a magnifying glass. Getting back to Driscoll, at thirty-three, he and Martha were older than the others, she was forty-three. They both represent bad treatment rather than careful surgery, presumably for bad deeds in Frank’s eyes. Let’s look into Driscoll’s teenage years, for something the Colony must have only discovered later. I honestly think that they didn’t intend to kill him, merely humiliate him. They were more concerned about Clyde Hendricks than Driscoll. I don’t like coincidence, but we have to accept that Frank is responsible for his death, not the Colony. It will all fall into place if we look in the right place.”
“Ok, get on to his school records and work from there.”
Stephanie was suffering eye strain from trying to interpret Gerry Walton’s hieroglyphics. He used many abbreviations, especially when referring to people. Those from the days of his service with Robert Blake she listed, alongside immediate comments Walton had made. The only one she recognised was R.B. – Robert Blake. She pleaded with Adams to let her go back to see Walton.
“I can be there and back in less than a working day Sir, and if it draws a blank I’ll make up the time in another way.”
“Very well, but how do you think any names can help us?”
“I wish I knew. Okay, it’s a gut feeling, but Alex Blake, although he doesn’t know it, holds the key to making connections we can’t yet see. Everyone else is dead.” She left in a hurry in order to beat the cross town peak hour.
*
Renton’s mobile vibrated. It was Frank.
“Your Detective Inspector is pretty good. He almost gathered me up by his quick action in closing the causeway. Maybe he should replace you permanently, and you could take the credit for mentoring him. How are you?”
“What do you mean how am I?”
“When we last met you were close to being discharged. Has that changed?” Renton thought carefully before answering.
“What difference does it make to you?”
“I said I wanted details of information you had gathered on the Priory victims other than Rory Davenport. That is still the case.”
“Well I had a little accident right after that call. I fell and aggravated my head injury. The doctor has had to remove a blood clot and I’m recuperating.” He thought this could buy more time for Frank to reconsider his threat. “So I can’t say when they’ll let me out.”
“I see. I will call again.”
*
The news of the bizarre death of a potential future senior Cabinet Minister went global, especially as it was connected to the Frankenstein case. Although he didn’t follow this story on the internet, he spotted it on TV. Kurt Eisel thought that the explanation of the cause of death, as electrically induced cerebral meltdown was somewhat familiar, and it was also in the Northeast of England. He had suffered in recent months from the Brazilian government’s new edict that certain preserved areas in the Amazon basin were accorded new protective measures. The area of the Manakalia was amongst them. His pleas of good relations with the tribe fell on deaf ears. He became depressed and found that the prospect of living for twelve months at a time in Western Europe was both emotionally stultifying and well beyond his financial means. He remembered how relatively well to do Frank was, and thought about paying him a visit. It had to be him. In contrast to the police, he knew the real identity of the Frankenstein killer, but not much about the people he’d killed. It seemed like a powerful bargaining tool, but not a flexible one. He would have to initially acquaint Frank with a stark choice, and then gauging his reaction to some form of hush money, decide on whether to talk to the police. There was no reward on offer so it was a one way street. He set off in pursuit of this spiritual anti-depressant.
*
The local Northumberland police had been very helpful, not only on the day Radcliffe’s body was discovered on Lindisfarne, but with subsequent enquiries. They had questioned several permanent residents of the island and a name kept cropping up as having been there that morning. He was a regular visitor and therefore not suspected by the locals as having any involvement. When Adams heard of this he responded immediately by driving north. He met Sergeant Bill Jenkins, who described the man. He fitted the description the Newcastle police had on file. He was thirty-two years old, a surgeon in the city, had a slim build and then there was the intriguing revelation that he was a known friend or acquaintance of Radcliffe. Golf, Chamber of Commerce and Charitable Trust activities brought them together quite often. The clincher was that they were seen the evening before Radcliffe’s death having a disagreement in a posh restaurant. Adams asked where they had obtained all of this information.
“Actually it is from various sources; some of it from locals, some from the hospital, the rest from Radcliffe’s wife.”
“You haven’t spoken to him yet?”
“No, I thought it would be better if we built the picture and you talked to him first.”
“Great, thanks Bill, I’ll bring him in for routine questioning based on his last evening meal with Radcliffe. Did anyone know why he left the island early that day?”
“Apparently not, do you want me to ask them about it now?”
“No, let’s check your information out with the man himself. The time he left might prove to be critical, and I’d like his answer first.”
Jonathan Corbett was clearly surprised at the request, as he claimed he had heard of Radcliffe being identified late in the afternoon, and had spoken with the Newcastle police, asking if there was anything he could help them with.
“I told them I was on Lindisfarne that morning. My boat is being refurbished and I went to see the estimate, talk it through with the chap who gave me the quote, and left. I said he was a personal and professional friend. I wanted more information from them than they appeared to want from me.”
“What time did you leave Lindisfarne?”
“About twenty minutes after I arrived. I had a procedure scheduled for early afternoon, and I was tight for time. Why do you want to know that?”
“We have to account for as many movements as we can to eliminate people from our enquiries. I’m sorry to have to ask, but can you provide confirmation of what time you were in the operating theatre?”
“Of course, but I don’t like the tone of this interview anymore.”
“That may be but we have witnesses to a quarrel you had with Mr. Radcliffe the evening before.”
“A quarrel, I’m afraid you have been misinformed. We disputed the date of the Open Golf Championship for next year because we’d agreed to take our wives and make a full weekend of it. Tim had been offered tickets, as he often does, sorry did, and he had got the date wrong. I had to wave my golf diary in his face before he sank to his chair and conceded the point. He then began laughing at yet another cock-up he’d made. I always teased him about attention to accuracy, as it is unforgiving in my work if you get it wrong, apparently that is not so critical in politics.”
“Thank you Mr. Corbett, is there anything you’d like to ask me?”
“Well, I’ve had a little time to digest the horror of losing a good friend but it hasn’t helped much. Am I allowed to ask if it is really part of this awful Frankenstein case?”
“You can ask, but I have to give the stock answer. We are following up various leads. Are you available if we need to speak to you again?”
“Certainly, here’s my card. You can always find me at the R.V.I. if my mobile is switched off. I believe your immediate superior is with us.” Adams thanked him and escorted him out of the building.
Chapter 28
Clive Donoghue’s initial optimism of finding leads from the yellow body bag from Lindisfarne was beginning to peter out. It was Angela who pestered him into concentrating on the bag itself.
“I’ve made a few calls and from my description none of the regional hospitals seem to use these bags. The ones they use are either black or dark green. I’ve also done checks with o
utdoor activity stores and they weren’t much help either, but one of the people I spoke to said he would take a look at it, thinking it might be from the Air-Sea rescue organisation. He says they have certain codes on them which have to be resistant to sea water erosion for quite long periods, and even if they aren’t visible to the naked eye they can be detected with special scanners. Should I get him to check it out?”
“Maybe Angela, but I want to finish testing our samples before we potentially contaminate the evidence. Let’s get this done as soon as we can.” She was frustrated by his unswerving adherence to the forensic bible, but merely shrugged her shoulders.
*
Sam had shared a few beers with ex-colleagues at their usual stamping ground and had quietly winkled out a surprising social habit of James Bradley. Apparently he still had regular drinking sessions in Stockton. That wasn’t particularly odd, but his companion didn’t really fit with Sam’s previous estimation of D.I. Cooper. Bradley was being portrayed as ‘one to watch’. Detective Sergeant Andy Melrose was someone whose nose Sam Gibson would be happy to follow.
“He, Bradley, isn’t what he seems to be. He is being fast-tracked, not by the official route, rather by his own. He comes across as a bit lethargic, and poorly focussed, but that’s his shield. Cooper picked up on this and is happy to use it to his own advantage. I’m not saying Bradley would take risks with sensitive information which could land back at his own door, he is mentored by Cooper and you know exactly how he works, enough said. How did you get lumbered with Bradley anyway?”
“He was allocated to us after D.C.I. Renton was hospitalised, together with Simon Jones. We had no input. You have me a bit worried now Andy, what about Jones?”
“Simon is a nice lad, nothing to worry about, but nothing special. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him end up in uniform again. He’s not really cut out for C.I.D. work; you know you can tell in the first few weeks if they are going to make it Sam. I would dump Bradley if I was in your shoes, but Cooper might have something to say about that.”
“Thanks for the advice Andy. If I remember correctly Cooper has had his fair share of ups and downs with Bernard Cousins. I’ll ask Adams to check it out, because Cousins needs some brownie points with Bradstock, who is already on a ‘cleaning house’ rampage in London.”
