Third Degree

by Claire Rayner

  ‘There’s no shortening,’ she said crisply. ‘It’s just George.’

  ‘Why?’ She blinked at the directness of the question.

  ‘Her grandfather didn’t like women much,’ Gus said. ‘Only had one daughter. Got fed up, left all his money to the daughter’s child as long as it was named after him. He died before the baby was born. It was a girl and here she is. George.’

  Monty Ledbetter grinned slowly. He had very expensive-looking teeth. ‘A feminist, hey? Is that why you’re a doctor?’

  ‘Yes,’ George said. ‘And no. Yes to the first. Not entirely to the second.’

  ‘Aha!’ Ledbetter beamed at his own perspicacity. ‘But partly right? I guessed as much. Women doctors – they like to prove how good they are.’ He nodded with a sort of pride in his own knowledge. ‘I understand doctors. They’re in the family.’

  ‘Oh?’ George did not invite further information, but he was clearly determined to give it.

  ‘Two of my nephews are doctors. One’s a consultant physician.’ He said it very clearly, enunciating every syllable proudly. ‘In America. The other’ – he beamed – ‘is in Harley Street.’

  ‘Oh,’ George said again, managing not to point out, as she usually did when people threw the address at her as though it were a qualification, that any quack could rent a room there. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yup.’ Mr Ledbetter clearly took that as a form of congratulation. ‘Not bad, hey? A surgeon. So.’ He stared at her. ‘You’re one of these feminists. One of the burn-a-bra types.’

  ‘No,’ George said and felt tighter than ever. ‘Just a practical woman. Like my mother.’

  ‘I like practical women. Even when they do burn their bras,’ Monty said. ‘Maybe especially when they do.’ He leaned towards the bottle. ‘A little champagne, Dr George? It’s very good for you. Clears the system.’

  ‘There’s no evidence that –’ George began, irritated as ever by silly statements about what was and what was not healthy, but this time even more than usual, but Gus interrupted.

  ‘Lovely idea. I’ll do the honours. Now, look, ignore George, will you? She’s a friend, like I said. A good friend.’ He leered slightly. ‘So we can talk in front of her. She won’t say nothing she shouldn’t, right, George?’ He looked at her with an appeal as well as command in his glance and, irritated though she was, and still with some anger in her from their unresolved argument, she responded. This was obviously something to do with his case, and that meant she had to co-operate.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ she said, putting on a look of boredom. She leaned back on her stool and accepted the glass of champagne Gus gave her with an even more lack-lustre air.

  ‘So, Monty,’ Gus said. ‘How likely is it that they’ll do it? Your opinion’ll be very useful on this.’

  ‘How likely I can’t say.’ Monty sounded judicious. ‘I can do my best to guide ’em, you understand, but I’m only one member.’

  ‘The Chairman,’ Gus murmured.

  ‘Well, all right, the Chairman, but me, I’m a democratic Chairman. Would I be sitting on the side of the Council I do if I wasn’t democratic, I ask you? All I can tell you is that the committee is a sensible one. I won’t work with no lemons, and they know it, so they make sure I chair the best people there are for the job. And they’ll look at the whole scheme carefully, decide whether it’s a goer.’

  He sighed and held out his glass for a refill. He likes his champagne, George thought. Drinks it like lemonade.

  ‘For my part, Gus, I just want to see the poor little kids properly looked after, know what I mean? It’s bad enough they are what they are, only elevenpence ha’penny to the bob, without us making the lives they do have a misery.’

  ‘And if it does go through, will you check on –’ Gus said and Monty held up his hand.

  ‘No names, no pack drill, Gus, you know that. Would I keep a thing like that from you? Of course I wouldn’t. If it goes through, then believe me, I’ll be checking hard on who gets what out of it. Cui bono, eh? Cui bono.’

  George was startled and then ashamed of herself for being so. Why shouldn’t this man, whoever he was, quote a Latin tag if it was apposite? And it seemed so in this case, though it was difficult to follow the conversation. Cui bono: for whose benefit? Gus wanted to know about some Council committee that this man chaired, and which could agree to something that Gus wasn’t too happy about. Cui bono? She understood that much.

  Monty was talking again and now George was able to make a little more sense out of what was going on.

  ‘Building contractors,’ Monty was saying earnestly, ‘are straight from hell, you know that, Gus. They’ll do anything for work, especially when there’s so little legit stuff around. If this deal goes through then there’ll be a lot of very nice refurbishing to be done and not a little extra building. It stands to reason there’ll be people dyin’ to get their hands on the contracts. I do all I can at the Council to make sure that there’s no dirty work when it comes to tenders or awarding of contracts, but even I can’t be everywhere. So I’ll make a deal with you, Gus. I’ll go on takin’ my life in my hands being a snout for you if you’ll keep your eyes peeled for some of these villains who’re trying to buy out some of my clerks and so forth. Is it a fair exchange?’

  Gus gave a little snort of disbelieving laughter. ‘I’m trying to see anyone daring to threaten you,’ he said. ‘Your life’s in your hands? Do me a favour, Monty!’

  ‘Don’t you be so sure!’ Monty opened his eyes wide and looked hurt. ‘I’m vulnerable, you know.’

  ‘Monty, you’ve got all the vulnerability of a crack Panzer division,’ Gus said. ‘How many fellas’d dare hang around for you on a dark night, do you suppose? You’d squash ’em with one foot. What size do you take, for Chrissakes?’

  ‘Fifteens, specially made for me at Lobb’s,’ Monty said and grinned at George. ‘I’m a fair specimen, eh, Dr George? I weigh close on twenty-two stone, you know, and not an ounce of it is fat. It’s all muscle, every bit. I’m as light on me feet as any of the boxers down at Christo’s gym, you ask him. I can’t even get a friendly these days because there’s no one to stand up to me. I was a heavyweight boxer, you know, in my army days!’

  ‘I’m sure you were,’ George murmured, looking sideways at the large arm Monty had pushed towards her.

  ‘Go on, feel my biceps,’ he invited. She obliged, pinching his upper arm gingerly. It was rock hard. ‘See what I mean? Tough, hmm? And big. But I’m still vulnerable.’ He turned back to look at Gus. ‘Some of these buggers’ll stop at nothing if you get in their way. I spend some time on building sites remember – it only takes a medium-sized crane and a demolition ball to do a nasty on me.’

  ‘You’re doing it up a bit too brown, Monty,’ Gus said bracingly. ‘But it’s a deal. You keep me informed about the committee’s decisions about – the committee’s decisions,’ he repeated as Monty threw him a sharp glance and lifted an eyebrow towards George. ‘And I’ll keep a well-open eye and ear on the contracts inside. There’ll be no accidents to you while I’m around. Don’t you worry.’

  ‘I’m not the worrying sort,’ Monty said as he got to his feet. He towered over them and George, almost as a reflex, stood up too. ‘I got to go. Finish the Bolly, you two, and make up whatever the row was. It’s never any use fighting with your fella, Dr George, is it? Spoils all the fun. You ought to ask my missus how to handle a man. She’s a wonder. Does all her charity work, running the old clothes shop, you know, and keeps the family happy, cooking and all that, and keeps me contented’ – he looked sideways at Gus and produced a man-to-man lascivious grin that made George want to hit them both – ‘and never argues with me. Wonderful woman. Really wonderful. Well, I’ll be on my way. Keep in touch, Gus. And don’t forget. I won’t.’ He went out of the pub, the crowd making room for him as before, and George watched him, her brows creased.

  ‘My God,’ she said when the door had closed behind him and the crowd had tightened up again to contin
ue its roaring conversations. ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘A bright spark,’ Gus said absently. He sat down again and reached for the bottle. ‘We might as well finish this, I suppose. Have you eaten? We could go and find something –’

  George waved away the bottle. ‘No. Not for me. I’m driving. Listen, what was all that about? And why did he give me such a dirty look when you were saying –’

  ‘I was about to say too much,’ Gus said, turning to look at her. ‘Listen, George, this hasn’t been a good time. I mean, I’m trying to work on the toughest job of my whole bloody career, and you turn up here with Mike Urquhart and make me –’

  ‘Make you come on like a character in a melodrama?’ she interrupted sweetly. ‘Where do you get off, Gus, coming on to me like that? Suggesting I was two-timing you with Mike – I mean, really! Is it likely?’

  ‘Oh, all right, all right! I was wrong, OK? It was just that I was so – I didn’t expect to see you here. It rattled me.’

  ‘And you rattled everything for miles around,’ she said. ‘You can trust me, for God’s sake, Gus! Not only not to play around with other fellas when you’re not around, especially fellas who work for you, but also not to interfere when you’re dealing with a business matter. I’ve worked with you long enough now, surely, to know when to keep my mouth shut. You can trust me – but you didn’t trust me enough to tell your Monty the Giant-killer that I’m your pathologist. Why not? Would it have done any harm?’

  ‘I didn’t want him to think you were from the police as well,’ Gus said. ‘It was hard enough to get him to agree to talk to me – he’s a big noise around here, and not the usual sort to go in for being a snout.’

  ‘A snout –’ George began.

  ‘An informer. I thought you knew that.’

  ‘I do,’ George said witheringly. ‘I was about to say, a snout is a good label for him. He looks piggy – those pale eyelashes and the size of him.’

  ‘No need to be nasty. I told you, he’s a big noise. Been on the Council here for donkey’s years – deputy leader of his group and got his fingers in more pies than you can imagine. He’s a real local bloke, you see. His old mum still lives in the street she was born in – she must be over ninety now – with Monty’s youngest sister, and she’s in her sixties, to look after her. There’s a great raft of other sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews, and he looks after all of them. Hell, he employs half of them.’

  ‘What does he do for a living?’

  Gus shook his head. ‘What doesn’t he do. Owns a chain of tobacconist’s shops. Has an estate agency too, for offices and factories. Owns a couple of factories himself. He’s a remarkably successful businessman.’

  ‘Is he straight?’ George asked. ‘Or is he one of your villains?’

  Gus managed a smile. ‘He’s been checked up on from here to Christmas and back again. He’s the cleanest character on the patch. There’s never been a hint of bad dealing attached to him. No, Monty’s OK. Really one of the old Londoners. Salt of the earth.’

  ‘Is that why you’re so scared of him?’ George asked.

  Gus stared. ‘Me? Scared of – Do me a favour, ducks! Why should I be?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just thought you were. Hissing at me to be quiet and so forth.’

  He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. ‘Look, I don’t like mixing pleasure and business, see? We’re both taking chances, Monty and me. We don’t want to alert the people we’re after. No need to get you involved too’.

  ‘Then why arrange to meet here?’ George said. ‘If he’s not comfortable to be seen talking to a copper, and you’re not comfortable being seen talking to him for some reason, why –’

  ‘Because it can be clever to be seen in public,’ he said. ‘Think it out, George. If we meet in secret – which is pretty well impossible on this patch, because there’s always somebody who twigs what’s up and puts the word around – the local villains get suspicious. We meet in public like this, then it’s obviously nothing for anyone to worry about. See? But all the same, I wish you hadn’t been here. It’d have been easier to – well, I’m sorry I got mad at you, too. It was just such a surprise. Here I was, at a meeting I’ve spent ages trying to set up and then you turn up giggling into Mike Urquhart’s ear. I felt – I don’t know. Awful.’

  She leaned towards him. ‘Have you been missing me, Gus?’

  ‘Like hell,’ he said. ‘It’s been dreadful. Every time I’ve tried to get home and call you something else has boiled over. It’s been a bugger, honestly.’

  She reached out and took his wrist between her fingers. ‘Can you get home now? Tonight, I mean?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve got another meet fixed up. Over towards Canning Town. There’s someone there knows all about this …’ He looked at her swiftly. ‘This thing Monty’s committee is involved with. I might get some sense out of him. I wish I could come home. I do miss you, George.’

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ she said. ‘As long as you do. Listen, Gus, I have to tell you why I came looking for you, right?’

  ‘I’ve got to go.’ He looked at the pub clock and made a face. ‘I should have gone when Monty did.’

  ‘Give me five minutes, for God’s sake!’ she said. And that was about all it took. She told him all she had found out, little as it was: about Lisa Zizi and the so-far unidentified body from the second fire, and about the leg and the dog carcase and the odd findings that linked them. He listened, his eyes on her face all the time, and did not interrupt once. She was pleased with herself; she’d told her story succinctly and clearly.

  ‘Please, Gus, can’t you take it on now? It’s too big for Dudley.’

  ‘He’s not on his own, you know,’ Gus said. ‘An inspector, however good and however close to promotion to chief inspector – and he is – would never handle a case like this on his own. Superintendent Whitman’s in over-all charge and –’

  ‘Whitman?’ she said. ‘But he’s not the same as you, is he? I mean, he’s uniformed.’

  Gus nodded. ‘You’re right. He’s not part of the detective branch, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t supervise the people who are. And he does. The case is in good hands, George. I can’t just walk away from all the work I’ve done here all these weeks just because you want me to!’

  ‘Not just because I want you to! I can’t deny I miss your company, but it’s more than that. This could be a serial killer with more to come – and though I know you’re working on a huge case and you’ve put a lot into it, doesn’t murder take precedence over crime involving money and –’

  ‘I’m sorry, doll,’ he said. ‘But on this you’re out on a limb. I’m not the only one who can handle murder, serial or otherwise. Just make sure Roop has all this information and he’ll get on the job. I know he can be a bit bloody at times, but he’ll take it all on board, never you doubt it. There’s no way he’d be vindictive just because he doesn’t like you.’

  She pounced on that. ‘Then you admit he doesn’t like me?’

  ‘He’s jealous,’ Gus said briefly. ‘Wants me all to himself.’

  George frowned. ‘But Gus, do you mean he’s – I mean …’

  ‘Oh, George, for heaven’s sake!’ Gus said, shaking his head irritably. ‘What are you going all coy on me for? If you’re asking is he gay and does he fancy me, the answer is not on your bloody Nelly. The man’s happy with his wife and kids.

  But in a professional sense, he’s my fella. I trained him, taught him all he knows. He’s going through a bad time on account of he’s up for promotion, just as I am, and if I get mine and he doesn’t get his, then we don’t work together any more, and he’s got to cope on his own. He gets scared, believe it or not. Especially as you’ve come along and shown you’re sometimes better at his job than he is. Of course he doesn’t like you! Even more so when he finds out you and me don’t only work together but play together. See? Be your age, ducky.’

  She was silent for a moment and then nodded. ‘Sorry
, Gus,’ she said in a small voice. She looked at him unhappily. ‘I take it this means that you definitely won’t be coming to help, then?’ she said.

  ‘It has to mean that. I could spit that the two cases should come up at the same time but that’s the way it goes. You can’t have it all your own way. I can only do one thing. Roop’s got to get on with yours.’

  ‘Well, at least tell him to let me in on what’s happening,’ she said almost despairingly. ‘It’s killing me to be kept on the outside looking in!’

  ‘I’ll bet it is, you nosy old bag,’ he said fondly, leaning over and kissing her. ‘All right, ducks, I’ll have a word first chance I get. But do me a favour, try not to step on his toes. And don’t jump in. Explain first. Don’t just go waving your arms about, all impatient. It upsets quiet types like Roop.’

  ‘And he upsets me,’ she said sourly.

  ‘Tell me about it. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll try and get home in a day or so. The way things are, though, I’m at full tilt. I sleep when I get the chance at Canning Town nick. Leave messages there for me, if it’s important, and my phone’s switched off. But only if it is important, you hear me? And wish me luck.’

  She opened her mouth to do just that, but he’d already gone.

  15

  Mike phoned her at her office the following week. ‘We’ve got an ID on that second fire victim,’ he said. ‘Did anyone tell you?’

  ‘No.’ She was bitter. ‘I just collect the evidence for ’em. They don’t bother to let me know the outcome.’

  ‘Well, I will. Sorry about Dudley, but he has been busy one way and another.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ she said. ‘I’d hoped that Gus would have spoken to him by now.’

  ‘Um,’ said Mike. ‘The Guv. Yes. Is he – er – is he still mad at me?’

  ‘Oh, he’s not mad at you. I told you that the day after we found him. No need to worry.’