by mark mctighe
“James Horsham’s house, I need you to listen to me and I need to pick up my car.” Leo began to recount his story before Scarlett had left the hospital car park. Scarlett drove and a craning, straining Hank sat in a position of disadvantage in the middle of the back seat. “I remember arriving at the house, and I remember a white Luton van was making a delivery. Then...... Total blank, and I wake up in one of those metal lockers. I won’t bore you with the details but in essence I felt like total shit. It was dark and judging by the distance I was taken I’d been out for say six hours. Then I heard his voice; over and over again; explaining who he was and why he’d taken Horsham. Explaining in detail what he’d done to the others, to Whittaker and Sasse; to the two missing teachers...... He dissolved one of them in something called pickling acid and he crushed the other one to death in the compressing machine.” Leo shivered involuntarily and continued.
Scarlett let it flow and Hank made scribbled notes from the back. Hank was lucky he wasn’t travelling in the Landrover; he wouldn’t have heard a word. Leo continued; “you were right about the entrapment Scarlett and right about the revenge aspect. Forty years ago they put Simon Wass in a locker, and when I say ‘they’ I mean Whittaker, Horsham and Sasse, yes, forty years ago they put him in a locker and pushed him down a long flight of stone stairs. This whole nightmare stems from that one moment. Anyway...... Where was I...... Yes, .......” Leo thought. “Simon Wass was mentally torturing Horsham, shit, hold on a minute.” Leo pulled out his mobile and placed the call. “Victoria, it’s Leo Dix”.
“I was hoping you’d call.” Her voice smiled at him.
“It’s not social Victoria, I need you to listen then do as I say, it’s important.”
“I’m all ears” she now sounded put out. ‘I bet he’s going to ask me to look for something else’.
“I want you to leave the office. I assume you’re at the office?”
“Yes, you’re scaring me now Leo. What’s this all about?”
“I want you to leave the office and don’t go home; arrange to get away; family; friends. I have reason to believe that the man who murdered Mr Whittaker could try to hurt you. It’s unlikely but he’s got.....” Leo was trying to find the right words without terrifying the girl, but then maybe she should be terrified. “He’s got a thing for you. You’re his fantasy.” Leo could hear the gulp at the end of the phone.
“Who is it? Do I know who it is?” Victoria’s voice strangled.
“Yes, it’s Simon Wass the Building Manager.” Leo had to give her a ‘heads up’. She had to know just in case she was being followed.
“How do we know this, it’s faintly ridiculous Leo?” Her tone refusing to accept.
“Look I’ll have to complete the picture later; right now you need to get out of there and go somewhere safe. Look, take it from me Victoria, I’ve heard it first hand and from the inside of a locker.”
“What the hell does that mean?” She had a point. Leo was confusing her.
“Just tell her you’ll send a WPC over to sort her out” whispered Scarlett.
Eventually Victoria was calmed and a WPC despatched. She’d agreed to go straight to her Mother’s in Wales.
“I’m losing it Scarlett” Leo said. “A simple call like that and I’ve confused the hell out of everyone, panicked a woman, blown the identity of our suspect and........” Leo fell silent, exhausted but refusing to admit it.
“After what you’ve been through it’s to be expected.” Scarlett waved his hand down in a calming motion. “Slowly, and I mean slowly, finish what you’ve got to tell me and then I’ll give you a fantastic relaxation exercise and you’ll feel re-invigorated by the time you get to your car.”
“He told me to keep my hands off Victoria Sharpe. His voice changed too; lower, almost like it was someone else. My interruption annoyed the hell out of him and when I tried to break out...... Well I could feel the cool gas jetting into the locker, hissing into the locker. Talk about fucking prepared, he’d fixed a bloody valve into the locker casing. Next thing I knew was waking up half way down a 200ft brick chimney, although it took me the best part of two hours just to work out where the hell I was.”
Hank had died and gone to heaven, if this was what Scarlett did for a living then he wanted some of the action.
“It’s a simple technique Leo. Close your eyes and as you inhale think 1 and exhale think 2, inhale 1, exhale 2. It blocks all other thoughts, clears your mind and relaxes.” Two minutes later a sleeping Leo could be heard snorting through his recently straightened nose. “Don’t bother me now Hank, I just need some time to consider matters.” Scarlett whispered. The rest of the journey was conducted in stony silence. Scarlett’s brief had now changed. He had to work out where Wass was before James Horsham was buried alive.
Horsham’s house was still cordoned off, police tape strung like bunting from one entrance pillar to the next, a solitary police man standing guard, preventing the TV crew from trespassing.
“Wake up Hannibal” Scarlett gave Leo a nudge. “You don’t want the TV catching you sleeping on the job.”
Leo sat upright. He looked just as bad as he had done when he went to sleep. “Great relaxation technique Scarlett, I’ll remember that one.”
“Wish I could take the credit but the state you were in, well, you’d have fallen asleep on the runway at Heathrow.”
“Look I’m going to head back up and meet Mikey; see what progress he’s making and see if I can get any more out of ‘All Office’. You know the brief Scarlett.... Where the fuck is the bastard?” On that succinct note Leo slammed the car door and strode over to the police man standing by the gate. Leo flashed his ID. “Need the car” he said pointing at his royal blue Defender.
“Yes sir, I’ll just get the tape out of the way.” The police guard set-to, clearing the entrance whilst Leo took a look about; not a ‘forensic look’, more of a ‘is there any concrete due to be poured on Friday?’ Kind of look.
A journalist, who’d clearly done their homework, shouted through the hedge; whilst a cameraman balanced on the roof of the TV van zoomed in on Leo’s face. “Excuse me DI Dix, I understand you’re the officer in charge of this case; the abduction, the murder of two police men. Could you tell me what has happened to your face? Does this relate to the case?” Leo was staggered that she could recognise him through the protective mask, ‘don’t think my own mother could have done’ he thought. No it wasn’t recognition, it was tip off, she’d been expecting him.
Leo moved directly to the entrance and spoke to the face of the journalist. “Jack Johnson is holding a press briefing at 9.00am tomorrow morning. I’m afraid I can’t say any more than that but I suggest that you attend.” He knew to handle the press with kid gloves. They could make your life hell.
“It looks painful”, she lowered her mike and grimaced but Leo wasn’t falling for that old trick.
“As I said 9.00 tomorrow, press office, Scotland Yard.”
The Landrover turned left out of the driveway; the vibrations of the cold engine resonating through Leo’s face. ‘She’s right, it is painful’. After 45 minutes the mobile flashed. Leo pulled over and took the call. “What have you got then Mandy?”
“As we sort of guessed Guv, 2ft reinforced concrete foundation slab means it’s tall or industrial. How tall depends on a whole host of other factors; but in layman’s terms, and with a lot of guess work, we’re talking industrial footings and residential or commercial in excess of 10 stories. I’ve just called Mikey and he’s focusing his team on that. There should be fewer sites that fit this spec so Mikey’s pushing it out from just London and the South East to include the Midlands.”
“Just what I was going to suggest. I think you should get over to Mikey, he’s going to need all the help manning those phones that he can get.”
“I’m already on my way Guv; how’s the face? Apparently it looks worse than when I saw you this morning. Chris has just seen a close up on Sky News.”
“Jesus they
got that out fast, I’m on my way up Mandy so I’ll see you soon, ciao.” Leo pressed end and a text came in. ‘Well I’m relieved; you’re not going to get many dates looking like that. Thanks for looking out for me, good luck, Victoria X’. The humour was well timed and it lifted Leo’s spirits for the journey back. ‘She knows I’m interested’ he thought. Leo shook his head to clear those thoughts then immediately regretted the action.
After a further 10 minutes Leo started to have doubts, doubts of his recollection. ‘Had Wass really meant it when he’d said it was 2ft thick and reinforced, or was it just to make James Horsham panic; make Horsham realise how hopeless his situation had become?’ He considered for a few minutes more. ‘No.... Yes, Leo firmly believed Simon Wass has been telling the truth but if he had got that wrong, Jesus, he’d be leading the case in entirely the wrong direction. But, there was no reason not to tell the truth; his two captives held in impenetrable lockers, death warrants signed. Simon Wass had been open and truthful, mad, but strangely honest and particular. He was a perfectionist so unlikely to get details of that sort wrong. ‘So we’re looking industrial or high rise’.
Leo strode into the meeting rooms that Mikey had seconded. A team of three were working their way through a list of concrete companies. In the adjoining room and with the door open Mikey sat with the Operations Director of ‘All Office’. They pawed over an open laptop connected into the ‘All Office’ systems. Mikey looked up and gasped, “Is that you Guv? Don’t think the mask does you any favours.”
“Thanks” Leo replied and nodded at the man sitting to the right of Mikey. He was typing at great speed.
“Yes, sorry Guv, this is the Operations Manager, sorry Director, of ‘All Office’, John Fisher.”
Mr Fisher looked up and smiled; stopped typing, and offered his hand. Leo forgetting himself for a moment shook hands; his fingers swollen and cut, his nails broken. He grimaced as his hand was squeezed. “So you’re the man who climbed out of our brick chimney. That must go down as some kind of spectacular stunt.”
“I can assure you it was no stunt Mr Fisher.” Leo poured cold water on Fisher’s misplaced enthusiasm then turned to Mikey. “So where are we on the ‘All Office’ concrete pours?”
The chastised John Fisher looked at Mikey and said “shall I?” Mikey nodded and Fisher carried on. “‘All Office’ doesn’t per se pour concrete. But we have three construction companies in the group that could be responsible for something on this scale; reinforced and deep. I’ve checked our utility operator, POD Contractors, and they’re pouring two bases on Friday. These are thick reinforced concrete slabs that’ll hold 5000 litre water tanks. The other two companies in the group aren’t pouring anything until mid next week but I’ve got the addresses here anyway, you know, just in case. I’m combing the system to check that nothing else surfaces. ‘All Office’ is such a large operation that sometimes the left hand doesn’t know what the right’s doing.”
Leo turned back to Mikey, “How are we handling these leads?”
“Well, Mr Fisher has already spoken to the site managers and asked them to ever so subtly conduct a detailed inspection of the pour sites. I reckon these two must be hot favourites. We know that Simon Wass seems to like to keep things close to home; you know Guv, ‘All Office’ Tasers, ‘All Office’ lockers, ‘All Office’ incinerator sites. I’m just hoping he hasn’t got Sky News and seen that you are out and about because that’s certain to make him change his plans”.
In the room next door the list was growing. There were already forty sites in London alone that fitted the bill, and only half of the major concrete suppliers had been contacted. Leo didn’t want to consider the alternative; that Wass had perhaps dug his own pit, fitted his own reinforcing bars and was going to mix the concrete himself. If that was the case, then Horsham was already dead. They would never find him in time.
“Nothing on the vehicle” Mikey interrupted Leo’s dark and depressing thoughts. “The ‘APB’ has turned up nothing and Mr Fisher here has checked the vehicle’s tracker but that was immobilised some time last week; mobile’s off and there’s no credit card usage.”
“There’s a tracker on the vehicle? Go back as far as we can on the ‘All Office’ vehicles assigned to him, a year if you have to, he may have slipped up; may have given away a location with repeated visits. Get Chris to sit down with Mr Fisher, this could be an important lead.” It was the sort of thing people forgot about and if Wass had been planning this for a considerable time there was a chance he’d visited the location they were now looking for numerous times. It was a break, a small one. Leo rubbed his hands in anticipation, then regretted the action.
Leo took the address for the two bases due to be poured on Friday. He needed to see a site; see if it gave him any ideas, inspiration. Mikey and Mandy’s team were doing the leg work well, Chris had the tracker covered and Jack was keeping the press off his back. There was nothing from Ziggy, no clues pointing to a whereabouts at the incinerator. Dylan had gone through the contents of Wass’s house three times now and there was no more to add. The silence from Scarlett said it all. Right now Leo needed a spark, James Horsham needed a spark. Leo popped his head into Jack’s office and gave him a thirty second update as Jack had volunteered to contact the family and advise them of progress. There was little to offer but they couldn’t just ignore them.
Leo drove through the early evening rush and parked on a meter just North of Kew Bridge. The Thames Water site he was aiming for was a couple of hundred metres walk. His threw his hood up; drizzle hung in the air, seemingly never falling, floating. The movement of traffic from the busy road swirling the air and creating updrafts, eddys, of damp, cold, ever present drizzle. Leo offered his ID to the gate house and signed the visitor’s book. He sat and waited for security to accompany him to the location of POD’s Friday morning pour.
Leo stood at the side of the hole. It was all wrong. The 24 hour security made this an unsuitable site. ‘Mikey can cross this one off his list’ he thought. Leo immediately realised that if he could discount this location so quickly then, on the ground site visits were essential. They’d be able to cut the options down considerably once security and access had been considered. And there was another thing. How the hell was Wass going to get a locker or box in place? The lattice work of steel rods made it impossible to get anything under them unless...... Unless he was cutting an opening. Yes, right now he was probably doctoring the site; cutting reinforcing bars and positioning a container of sorts. This was important. Every Site Manager would be able to identify if things had been messed with. This was key, if they could get visual inspections carried out, make it look cursory in case Simon Wass was watching; then if anomalies were spotted they could lay in wait; kill two birds with one stone. It had been a worthwhile visit. ‘It might just be the spark.’ Leo called Mikey to further discuss his idea. It was Thursday tomorrow and they’d need all those inspections completed by Midday. If Leo had got it right, then Wass would place Horsham in position sometime on Thursday night. They needed to be ready.
The phone called out; Ziggy filled the screen. “What have you got Zigs?” Leo’s voice hopeful.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve got, bugger all other than a need for a beer, and I think it would be good for you too.”
“So now you’re my doctor.” Leo threw back. “Matchmaker, Mother and Doctor.”
“You’ve forgotten that I know how you work, and right now you need a beer to oil that rusty machinery clunking in your head. I’m telling you Leo, and I think you know that Ziggy knows best, a little down time and the up time will be multiplied by a factor of ten.”
“OK, seven o’clock and bring everything you’ve got on Simon Wass.” Leo was going to make him work for his beer.
“See ya there then.” Ziggy didn’t need to ask where. They only ever drank at The Windsor Castle.
Leo was pleased Ziggy had called, it was the next thing on his ‘to do’ list. They could run back through the forensics and
see what new light they could shine on the shadows they were chasing. Perhaps he should ask Scarlett to come along; ‘na, Zigs won’t want a beer with Captain Scarlet; I’ll catch up with ‘the Scarlett one’ in the morning.’ And besides he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire...... Ziggy had started calling the case ‘The Scarlett Dix Investigations’. It was an old one that got wheeled out every time Leo worked with Scarlett.
It was a call he’d been putting off for a long time; putting it off and hoping that perhaps she would call and end it. Leo blanked his mind and pressed the call button. He knew what he wanted to say but he didn’t want it to sound rehearsed, off pat. No, it would be better if he stuttered his way through it; perhaps Simone would get the drift and beat him to the punch line. She was a great girl but ........ 700 constant miles diluted things a lot. “Simone, it’s Leo”; it was difficult to move things off small talk and trivia. She was bored working at the ski school reception desk and sick to death of the decrepit, antiquated, booking systems she worked on all day; sick of the complaints, the tense and angry parents who thought their children were the next Didier Cuche or Lindsey Vonn. Leo thought of Ziggy, ‘you’ve got to sort it and move on man’, he was of course right. “Simone” his voice tone had involuntarily changed and Simone went quiet. “This distance thing is too much for me”. Leo set off blaming the distance. It wasn’t really the distance; true love can cope with a bit of distance. “You’re all the way over there and I’m over here”. Leo moved on to the subject of where Simone lived; apportioning blame despite the fact that it wasn’t her who had moved away. “The job is so demanding that I’m finding it hard to think of anything else.” Now Leo was in dangerous territory, walking on thin ice; telling Simone that he wasn’t thinking of her. But Simone came to the rescue.
“Rufus told me about the case you’re handling; gave me a copy of the paper, The Evening Standard. I can see that you need to concentrate on that Leo and we’ll get together the day after the ski season ends, I promise.” There was more small talk followed by a couple of minutes insulting Rufus before the call ended. Leo clapped his hands, he needed to feel pain; “sorted”, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth and to add injury to insult his face hurt like hell and his swollen knuckles ached.
