‘As you say, the screw loose, the chink in their armour, and what is this man’s chink?’
‘His weakness is his family. If these people are as vicious as he says they are, they’ll not hesitate to use them to get to him.’
‘But they haven’t,’ Larry said.
‘Not yet, and Woolston’s widow is married to one of the guilty, according to him. That’s probably their only protection.’
‘And no trace on his phone call?’ Wendy said.
‘We’re rehashing old ground here. That’s known already.’
***
Sue Christie had acted innocently with Malcolm Woolston, confident that he had bought her ‘poor innocent little me’ attitude. She knew that he had been easy to deal with, the same as he had always been. Even all those years ago she had known that he fancied her, but he was old school, a believer in the sanctity of marriage, honouring vows, fidelity. She knew she was not; she knew what she needed to do.
Her first action was to move her mother to somewhere safe: easily arranged. After that, there was one sister living overseas, another in Cornwall. She would need to be contacted, and that offer of a trip abroad would be hers.
Malcolm had given her twenty-four hours from the time of their meeting, which meant he would be phoning her that very day, and now there were two police officers in the office; one, the good-looking black man, the other, white, going to pot with his beer belly. She knew she fancied the black DCI, but not in the office, and not that day. She was a voracious man-eater, she knew that, but now she had to save those she cared for, or at least her mother and her sister, who was about to leave the country for a two-week holiday.
She had strung Ed Barrow along for years, made him feel that she cared for him, which she had once, but now he was a convenient lay, and more importantly, the way to a significant amount of money. He may not have known all the players involved, but she certainly did. General Claude Smythe had expressed interest in the project from its conception. He knew what it was worth, and how to get the money. He and his brother, the secretary of state for defence, were both ex-lovers, both opportunistic.
It was not often she saw the general, but whenever she did, she made sure that he left her with a smile on his face. Now she would know where the missing information was, and how to smuggle it out of the building, making sure that Ed did not know. He was expendable, and if Gwen was to be the grieving widow for the second time, then so be it. She could not care less.
‘Mr Barrow,’ Isaac said. He looked at Sue Christie, could see the smile on her face. He assumed it was for him. He had to admit that he liked the look of her, but her reputation, especially with Barrow, made her cheap and not his type.
‘He’s not here. I don’t expect to see him today.’
‘Do you have any idea where he is?’
‘Personal business, that’s all I know. Finding out that his wife’s first husband is alive must make it difficult for him and Gwen.’
‘It probably does, but it’s important that we see him today.’
‘Have you tried his home, his phone?’
‘We have.’
‘I’ll let him know that you want to see him if he comes in.’
The two police officers left the building. ‘It’s a good job you checked in the car park first,’ Isaac said.
‘The man’s there. What are they up to?’ Larry said.
***
‘They’ve gone?’ Barrow asked.
‘For now. The situation is getting dangerous.’
‘Your mother?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Your sister?’
‘I’ve done what I can.’
‘And Malcolm’s phoning today?’
‘That’s what he said. Do you have your people ready?’ Sue asked.
‘If they see him they’ll grab him.’
‘He told me not to tell you.’
‘He’s still naïve. He never could read you.’
‘Whereas you could?’
‘Sue, I’ve never bought your charm, not totally. I know that you’re playing this to your advantage. You’d knife me in the back the first opportunity you got.’
‘You’re smarter than Malcolm then. All he ever wanted to do was to lay me.’
‘And he never did, not even now when you’re available.’
‘I was always available.’
Ed Barrow had the measure of the woman, the woman who had put him in contact with those who would take what Woolston had discovered. Their promise that there’d be enough money for all of them had been the reason that he had consented to allow Woolston to be subjected to savagery, and now the woman was admitting that she’d sell him out if the opportunity presented itself.
‘Can I trust you?’ Barrow said.
‘I will do what is right.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘It’s the only one you’ll get from me. Malcolm is after vengeance, he’s quite mad, you know. He’ll stop at nothing to secure what he wants. You know what you have to do.’
‘Not Gwen.’
‘You always knew this day would come.’
‘I suppose so.’
***
Ed Barrow left the office soon after talking to Sue. He realised that she and those she was in contact with would not honour their agreement to leave his family alone. He knew he had to protect them. He needed Malcolm Woolston.
As he drove out of the car park, a police car pulled up in front of him. ‘Mr Barrow, you’re required down at the police station. Either you drive there, or you can come with us.’
Realising that there was no way out, Barrow drove to the police station, the police car following. Isaac had realised that his personal assistant’s assertion that he was not in the office when he was could only mean one thing: he had something to hide. Isaac intended to find out what it was.
‘Mr Barrow, you are here voluntarily,’ Isaac said in the interview room at Challis Street. ‘Do you require legal representation?’
‘No. I was busy when you called at my office, that was all. I asked Sue to cover for me.’
‘There are aspects of this case that we don’t understand.’
‘I’ve told you all that I know.’
‘Are you aware that Malcolm Woolston phoned us?’
‘No.’
‘He was lucid. He explained that his research was being diverted from peaceful purposes.’
‘He’s an idealist. How can any man live on the street for years, and then come back and start murdering people? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘He’s also worried that his family is at risk.’
‘They’re my family as well. His daughter has accepted me as her de facto father, you do realise this?’
‘We are aware of the close personal relationship that you enjoy with the mother and daughter. It does not explain why Malcolm Woolston sees you as a threat. Mr Barrow, are you a threat? Were you one of those that allowed Malcolm Woolston to be subjected to violence? Were you one of those who watched while the man suffered? Would you allow his wife and daughter to be harmed if it was beneficial to you?’
‘What are you trying to portray me as, some kind of monster? Where’s the proof? I’m a mid-ranking civil servant doing his job to the best of his abilities. I’m not to blame if one of my former team members goes crazy, fakes his death, lives on the street, and then starts murdering people.’
‘I agree that it seems unlikely,’ Isaac said, ‘but it doesn’t solve the case. Granted that Woolston appears to be a strange character, and if we find him, he will be charged with murder, but he seems rational. Arbuthnot was a shady character. You’ve met him?’
‘On one occasion in the office.’ Barrow was glad that his conversation with Helen Toogood had revealed that she had identified him from a photo.
‘You did not tell us that before. We’ll forget your oversight for now. What was his interest in your department?’
‘He came with Hutton.’
‘Ar
buthnot was involved in arms trading. Did you know that?’
‘Not at the time.’
‘And you are agreeable for your research to be used for weapons?’
‘I don’t have an issue with that. We work for the government. How they use our results is up to them. Just because Woolston had an issue is not my concern. The only issue is the protection of my family. The research can go to hell if they’re threatened.’
Chapter 21
At 4 p.m. Sue Christie received a phone call. ‘This evening, you will leave your office at 6 p.m. You will walk home down Bayswater Road. When you reach number 128, you will see a rubbish bin. You will put the files in there. Is that clear?’
‘Malcolm, where are they?’
‘In my laboratory in the far corner there is a loose floorboard. It is covered with carpet. You will remove the carpet and use a screwdriver or something flat to prise up the floorboard. Under it you will find a box wrapped in plastic.’
‘After eleven years?’
‘It is still there.’
‘How do you know?’
‘It is my job to know.’
Sue Christie realised that there was only one way he knew that the files were still there. ‘You could have asked Helen,’ she said.
‘I want you to do it.’
‘Why?’
‘I want to know if I can trust you.’
‘Very well, but this cloak and dagger routine is banal.’
‘The alternatives are not.’
***
Malcolm Woolston sat calmly in his flat. He weighed up the situation so far. It was necessary to trust some people, dispose of others. If he had stayed hidden, then there would have been no need for the deaths, but he had seen the formulas on the computer at Robertson’s hostel. Other countries were close to developing low-cost energy, and he could have given his country the leading role. It was about to be lost, so it was necessary to reveal what he had done to the scientific community, believing that there would be companies in his country of birth who would seize the opportunity to use what he had developed for peaceful purposes. He typed on the laptop the final paragraphs of his technical paper. He needed some way to present his results. Sue Christie had supplied him with the missing information, no doubt taking a copy first, but he did not need the files. And besides, they were the substitutes that Helen Toogood had put there for him. He owed the woman his eternal thanks for believing in him, even reluctantly understanding his actions, and importantly, exposing Sue Christie.
There was no doubt that Ed Barrow was guilty of crimes against him, as was Sue Christie. He wasn’t sure who was the worst, but it appeared that the woman was the guiltier. He had always had his suspicions, even before he took to the street. She was always too available, too polite, and too willing to offer herself to him.
He had known that Gwen was sometimes jealous, but she always took him at his word, and besides Sue was with Ed, and they were always good friends. But he had caught Sue once looking through his notes, pretending to be curious, not that she would have understood what she was reading; few people would have.
He had followed Sue down Bayswater Road, seen her turn into Westbourne Street and enter the restaurant. He had even seen her kiss the man that she met on the cheek as they sat down. A familiar face, he knew who it was. He had not seen her hand over the files but assumed she had. It would take them two days before they realised that what she had given him was worthless; time enough to complete what was necessary, to publish his paper, and to protect his family. It was a calculated risk, he knew that, and he was gambling with the lives of his wife and his daughter and her child. It was a risk he had to take.
***
Isaac Cook had a time issue as well. Apart from the occasional flurry of activity, the Homicide department was not working hard. The all points warning was still out for Malcolm Woolston, the case for the prosecution was tight, but they had nothing more. There was only so much walking the street, conducting interviews, looking at CCTV that could be done. After the conversation with Ed Barrow: nothing.
The joint funeral of Harold Hutton and his wife had been attended by a number of politicians, including the prime minister. There had been speculation, even by the PM, about what the police were doing to resolve this tragedy.
DCS Goddard, after the obligatory blasting out from Commissioner Davies, felt the need to vent his spleen in his office, Isaac standing to attention to hear him out. ‘What’s going on here?’ Isaac mentally counted down from three minutes, the time for his DCS to change from argumentative to responsive.
‘We’re working on the case.’
‘This man can’t be that hard to find. You sit there with your small team, even after I’ve told you to get more people.’
Two minutes to go, Isaac thought.
‘We’re utilising other stations in our hunt for him.’
‘And he’s walking around the area, phoning you up, killing whoever.’
‘He’s not killed anyone since Hutton.’
‘Great. Is that something to be thankful for?’
One minute, Isaac thought.
‘Not at all. We’ve followed everything by the book, left no stone unturned. We’ve interviewed his former colleagues, spoken to his wife and daughter.’
‘You know what Davies wants?’
‘His man in my seat.’
‘Exactly. What can I say to hold him off?’
‘Will he listen?’
‘You know the man.’
‘Whatever we say, he’ll counteract with invective.’
‘Christ’s sake, Isaac, sit down,’ Goddard said. Isaac knew that now they could hold a worthwhile discussion. ‘Hutton was important. Davies is being pressured as well on this one, and he’s right to criticise. The fact that the man is a blithering fool is neither here nor there. He’s our boss. I can’t ignore him.’
‘That’s understood, sir. We believe that Woolston has a legitimate reason for his actions.’
‘Murder? Legitimate?’
‘We ran into this with the Marjorie Frobisher case.’
‘Government interference, distorting the truth?’
‘It’s not the same, at least not in its entirety. Woolston realised that the government, probably others, were going to use his research for non-ethical purposes. He couldn’t agree, they tried to force it out of him, he disappeared.’
‘Very commendable, no doubt, but now he’s killing people.’
‘Apart from Robertson, which he regretted, he has killed another two.’
‘Why do we always get these cases? What’s wrong with a straightforward domestic dispute. Every case you take on always has some unforeseen complication. And now you’re saying that murder is justified.’
‘That’s not what I said. Woolston believed that Hutton and Arbuthnot deserved to die.’
‘Any more on his list?’
‘He said he wasn’t finished.’
‘Names?’
‘He didn’t give them. And If Woolston is right, and there are government officials involved, you know what can happen.’
‘We’ve been forced to cease our investigations before, let a murderer walk free because of an official directive. This one could be the same.’
‘Are you meaning that Woolston may get off?’
‘I’m not sure yet, but if he has vital information and they get to him first, then it’s always possible.’
‘And I’m meant to tell Davies all this?’
‘Unfortunately, you’ll just have to take the heat and keep us on the case.’
‘Isaac, I believe you have an easier job than me,’ DCS Goddard said.
***
In one corner of the room was the computer that had been taken from Bob Robertson’s hostel. In another, a group of men studied Malcolm Woolston’s files.
‘It doesn’t make sense to me,’ the first of the men said.
‘Nor me,’ the second said.
The group had been working on solving the problem th
at had confronted them for over ten years, and they were no nearer to perfecting the weapon. Each time they tried, all they were able to do was to generate a minor explosion, but it was nowhere near the intensity or with the directional control needed.
They had the best equipment, General Claude Smythe had ensured that, the best security, and certainly the most powerful computers, yet none of it was sufficient. What they needed was the man. Smythe was aware of that fact, he had been for many years, and now with the files, and Sue Christie firmly in his corner, and Woolston having made contact with her, he was certain that it would only be days before the man would be joining the team. He wouldn’t enjoy it, nor the country he would be taken to, and his accommodation, while adequate, would be spartan, with bars on the windows and guards at the only door to the cell. And if the man resisted, then he had people who could be very persuasive.
All Smythe had to do was to keep a watch on the woman, and the man would come. Originally it had been a concerted effort with Hutton to secure the solution from the naïve Woolston, to convert his work into a weapon and then to sell it to whoever was willing to pay, but time had moved on. Hutton was dead, so was Arbuthnot, and the field was clear for the general and his brother to reap all the rewards.
Claude Smythe had no illusions about what he and his brother were. Their lives had been ones of privilege and service to the community, and although he was a general in Her Majesty’s army and his brother was a senior politician, they had realised that Woolston had given them access to more than a draughty castle and a government pension. An academic had given them the key to infinite wealth, the chance to live like kings, and Sue Christie came as an extra benefit, if only he could convince her to join with him.
At sixty years, Claude Smythe knew that he should be acting his age, but with the woman in his bed, he had felt twenty years younger. They had first made love twelve years previously, and whereas he knew what she was, and that she slept around, he also knew that she was the ideal woman: loving, devious, and willing to do anything if it was to her benefit. Pretending to care about Ed Barrow after he had married Woolston’s widow was one instance, seducing him another.
The DCI Isaac Cook Thriller Series: Books 4 - 6: Murder (The DCI Isaac Cook Thrillers Series Boxset) Page 38
