by Rob Ashman
Charm? Who am I kidding?
He took the lift to the third floor and headed for Imaging. He could see Marjorie Cooper hunched over a laptop at her desk. He wandered over. A sign was protruding from the top of the partition which read: Queen of CCTV. Malice had no argument with that.
While most people have photographs of their loved ones decorating their desk, not Marjorie Cooper — pinned to the partition running around her workspace were photographs of reptiles; lizards to be precise.
‘Hey,’ he arrived at her desk. ‘How you doing?’
Marjorie pushed herself away from her computer, slipped her glasses to the end of her nose and eyed him up and down.
‘Did you forget your umbrella?’
‘Yeah, something like that,’ Malice pinched the material of his shirt and gave it a shake.
‘I’m nice and dry, thanks for asking, how are you?’
‘Pretty good, apart from …’ he wiped his hand along his sleeve and it stuck to his arm. He sidled over, placed both hands on the partition and leaned in. ‘I was wondering—’
‘Did you manage to find the woman I identified at Paddington station?’
‘Not yet, we’re still looking.’
‘Not an easy job.’
‘No we need to get a break.’
‘Good luck with that,’ she pushed her spectacles to the bridge of her nose and rolled her chair back into place.
‘That’s why I’m here. We could do with your help again.’
‘Sorry, I’d love to but I’m completely snowed under at the moment.’
‘I thought you would be which is why I came directly to you. I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a pickle.’
‘Oh?’ she looked up, a glint in her eye.
Malice made a theatrical play of looking around the office, then leaned even further into her workspace. He beckoned for her to come closer.
‘I’m not sure Superintendent Waite would be too happy if she knew I was here,’ he whispered. ‘You did such a great job finding the Garrett woman we need you to help us find more missing persons. We believe they’re linked to her disappearance. Waite reckons we can handle it ourselves but we can’t. Any time you could give us would be gratefully received.’
‘That sounds intriguing, I might be able to squeeze in a few hours but that’s all,’ she responded in the same hushed tones.
‘Marjorie, what can I say, that would be a massive help?’ Malice dipped at the knees as if he was accepting an award.
‘Okay, when you’re ready give me a shout.’
‘Thank you I appreciate it,’ he straightened up. ‘Hey, these look like dinosaurs,’ He waved his hands at the pictures.
‘In a way they are,’ her face lit up.
‘Are they yours?’
‘I prefer them to people.’
‘I know a few people like that.’
‘This is Joey,’ she pointed to a photograph. ‘He’s an Iguana and this is Mitzy she’s a Leopard Geko.’
‘Wow, they look very cool.’
‘They are but unfortunately I had to donate Joey to a zoo a few months back. He got too big for me to look after properly and it wasn’t fair on him.’
‘How big was he?’
Marjorie leaned back in her chair and opened her arms wide, she let out a low whistle.
‘He was over three feet from nose to tail and weighed around twelve pounds. He was very strong and had sharp claws. The trouble was he was only going to get bigger, they grow to around seven feet in length.’
‘Shit that’s huge. I bet you miss him.’
‘Yeah, he was a real character.’
‘I take it Mitzy is a lot smaller,’ Malice had decided it was certainly worth going the extra mile.
‘She’s my little darling. I might get another iguana at some point but right now I’m kind of pining for my boy.’
‘I didn’t know iguanas grew that big — they’re monsters.’
Cooper rushes her hands to her keyboard, closed down the image on the screen and typed into an internet browser. ‘They’re not monsters, these guys are monsters.’
A collage of pictures came up on the screen showing massive creatures with forked tongues darting from their mouths. Marjorie was beside herself with excitement at finding a new-found enthusiast.
‘Bloody hell!’ crowed Malice, throwing his hands in to the air in mock surprise.
‘These are my favourites. The biggest and most powerful lizard on the planet. They can grow up to ten feet in length, weigh one hundred and sixty pounds and have been known to eat people. The female doesn’t even need a male to reproduce, now that’s what I call a step forward in evolution.’
‘What it is?’
‘The Komodo Dragon.’
Chapter 56
P ietersen elbowed open the door, tossed her bag on the floor and then shuffled into the lounge carrying a bulging plastic bag. She dumped it on the coffee table. Malice followed behind her. He took one look at the apartment and bent down to remove his shoes.
She flicked a switch and a tall free-standing lamp radiated a warm glow across the room.
‘Make yourself at home,’ she said on her way to the kitchen. ‘Plates or bowls?’
‘What?’ Malice fought with one of his laces; failed and prised the shoe off his foot.
‘Do you want a plate or a bowl?’
‘Oh, err, either is fine.’
‘I like a bowl, it makes it more authentic.’
Malice wandered over and leaned against the archway, leading into the galley-style kitchen.
‘That bag of food came from a takeaway around the corner where the Chinese bloke who served us is called Derek. I’m not sure a bowl is going to raise the authenticity.’
‘You leave Derek alone, he likes me.’
‘I’m sure he does, given the amount of free stuff he chucked in,’ Malice shuffled back into the lounge. The flat was modern and stylish with magnolia coloured walls and a grey leather suit. The smell of new carpets hung in the air.
‘Do you want a beer?’ she called out.
‘Yeah, that would be good, just the one,’ He removed his jacket and tossed it over the arm of the sofa, then slumped down against the array of cushions. He pushed his hands into the soft upholstery, for the first time in a long time he felt relaxed.
Pietersen appeared from the archway, her arms filled with cutlery and crockery plus two beers gripped between the fingers of her right hand. She offloaded them onto the table.
Malice picked up a fork and studied it, turning it over and over in his hand. He furrowed his brow.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘Do you have any chopsticks?’
‘Umm …’
‘Only it makes it more authentic.’
‘Sod off,’ she handed over a beer and unpacked the plastic cartons and brown paper bags. ‘Do you always order so much?’ she said running out of space.
‘What can I say, I’m a growing boy,’ Malice took a slug of beer. ‘Nice place you have here.’
‘Yeah, it’s convenient for work too.’
‘Where’s home? I mean real home.’
‘Here,’ Pietersen prised the tops off the containers to reveal a brightly coloured banquet. ‘When me and Martin broke up we sold the flat, and since then I’ve been staying with friends until I got myself sorted.’
‘Then you were assigned this job and the flat came with it.’
‘Something like that. I’ve been here a little over a month now.’
‘Nice.’ Malice picked out a prawn cracker, dipped into an orange sauce and crunched it in his mouth. He leaned forward to take another swipe at the sauce.
‘No double dipping,’ she covered the carton with her hand.
‘What?’
‘I said no double dipping, I can’t stand that. Martin used to do it all the time, it drove me mad.’
‘Kelly where I come from double dipping was never an issue. We had bugger-all to dip anything into once, let alone twi
ce.’
They laughed and chinked their bottles together. Malice glanced down to see his toe sticking out of his sock. He reached down and pulled at the material.
Bugger!
‘Thanks for saying what you did in the car,’ she handed him a bowl and put serving spoons into the cartons
‘Which bit?’
‘When you told Ryan that you needed me on the case. Nothing is ever good enough for him, it came a welcome relief to hear I was doing something right.’
‘That’s a fact. There’s no way I’m starting fresh with someone else and besides, I meant what I said, you’re a good detective.’
‘But not such a good UCO.’
‘How long have you been in the job?’
Pietersen reached over and piled food onto her plate.
‘I joined the force straight from Uni. I’d been a Special and enjoyed it, and it was a natural transition for me to make it a career. I started in uniform then passed my detective exams and after a few years went into anti-corruption. Eight years’ service all told.’
‘I know coppers with twice that much who don’t have your instincts,’ Malice’s bowl was at risk of overflowing onto his lap.
‘Now you’re making me blush.’
‘The same colour as this?’ Malice held up a battered pork ball covered in fluorescent red sauce.
‘Eat it and stop moaning.’
He popped it into his mouth. He had to admit that despite its garish appearance, the food was damned good.
‘Marjorie Cooper, who’d have thought it?’ he held up a fork full of noodles.
‘No one, and that’s the genius of it. She operated across homicide, burglary, drugs, prostitution, you name it she saw it. She was in a perfect position to know what was happening on the ground. Vasco needed intelligence about what to expect when he moved in on the patch and she was in a prime position to tell him.’
‘I’m surprised Ryan took the latest news as well as he did,’ Malice said.
‘I told him about Cooper and he seemed to take it in his stride. He said that it simply meant they had two people to look into instead of one.’
Malice winced at the thought of Anderson still having him in his sights. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
‘He didn’t strike me as a guy who responds well to surprises,’ he said.
‘He isn’t, and anyway we don’t know if it’s her yet. Twelve hours ago, you thought it was Waite.’
‘True.’
‘The boxing and the enthusiasm for cars – is that all true? Or is it a cover?’ Malice asked, wanting to change the subject.
‘Yes, that’s the real me. I found Crosley’s gym the first week I was here and signed up.’
‘Still reckon it’s a bloody dance class.’
‘I preferred it to the Rocky gym you go to. The place stinks.’
‘The place kept me from going off the rails as a kid.’
‘What’s the next steps with the Von Trapps?’
‘Hopefully the CCTV footage will turn up something we can use. But we're still running on circumstantial and nothing else. We need a break,’ Malice said.
‘We have to get inside their house with a warrant to look for evidence that Belinda Garrett was at the property,’ Pietersen downed the rest of her beer and headed to the kitchen for another.
‘If we go to Waite with what we have she’ll show us the door.’ Malice took the opportunity to double dip his prawn cracker. ‘There’s no way we’ll get a warrant.’
‘We need something concrete,’ she reappeared with a bottle, none the wiser of his transgression.
Malice shovelled food into his mouth. He glanced across at his jacket to see a piece of paper sticking out from inside the lapel. He put down his bowl and fished it out.
‘What’s that?’ Pietersen asked.
He unfolded the paper and stared at a series of numbers scribbled across it in black pall-point pen. The cogs whirred as he tried to remember how it got there.
‘Elsa gave me her mobile number when I visited the house,’ he said, his memory clicking into gear. ‘She wrote it on an envelope.’
‘I bet she did,’ Pietersen stifled a giggle.
‘I didn’t screw her, you know?’
‘I know, you said.’
Malice folded it into a square and was just about to return it to his jacket. A bombshell exploded in his head.
‘Fuck,’ he said, staring at the paper.
‘What is it?’
‘We’ve got an early start in the morning.’
‘To do what?’
‘Pick up the Von Trapps and bring them down to the station while Waite obtains a warrant.’
Chapter 57
M alice and Pietersen were milling about outside Interview Room Two; both nursing a cup of strong coffee.
‘For a woman who couldn’t wait to tell us every salacious detail of her home life, she clammed up pretty fast,’ Pietersen says, swigging from her cup.
‘She doesn’t look good either.’
‘By the look of her eyes she’s either got conjunctivitis or has been crying all night.’
Waite bustled down the corridor holding a wad of paper. She handed it to Malice.
‘Ma’am,’ they said in unison.
‘We have the warrant and I’ve lined up a search and CSI team. Go see what she has to say,’ Waite said. ‘This had better be worthwhile.’
‘Yes, guv,’ Malice said, putting his hand on the door handle.
‘Oh, and good work, the pair of you.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
Malice opened the door. Sitting at the table was Elsa, her face ashen grey and her hair a matted mess. The oversized sweatshirt hung from her slumped shoulders.
She looked up.
Pietersen pressed the button and the machine let out a long buzzing sound. When it finished she said, ‘Interview commencing 10.25 a.m. Present is DS Malice, Detective Pietersen and Elsa Kaplan. I need to remind you that you are not under arrest, Elsa, but you are under caution and you have waved the right to have a solicitor present. Do you understand?’
‘Yes I understand,’ Elsa replied, staring into her lap.
‘Elsa, when we came to your house this morning you—’
‘I don’t have to answer your questions, do I?’ She straightened herself in her chair.
‘No Elsa, you don’t,’ Malice said, ‘but it would be helpful if you did.’
‘I understand.’
She returned her gaze to her lap.
‘When we arrived at your house this morning we asked you where Damien was and you told us you thought he was at work,’ Malice paused.
‘No comment,’ replied Elsa.
‘We’ve checked and his office says they’ve not seen or heard from him in a couple of days and he’s not returning emails. Where is he Elsa?’
‘No comment.’
Malice continued.
‘His car is not at the house and it’s not at the train station car park either. Where has he gone?’
‘No comment.’
Pietersen took up the challenge.
‘When we arrived, we found a suitcase on the bed half-filled with clothes. Where were you going?’
‘No comment.’
‘Were you planning to meet your husband?’
‘No comment.’
‘When we last spoke you told us that Belinda Garrett had never been to your home. I told you that we believe she got off the train at Fallgate station on the day she disappeared and you insisted she had not visited you or your husband. Is that correct?’
‘No comment.’
Malice slid the papers in front of Kaplan.
‘We have a warrant to search your home, Elsa. What do you think we’ll find?’ he said, studying her face.
‘For the tape, DS Malice is showing Elsa Kaplan the warrant,’ Pietersen chipped in.
Kaplan’s eyes widened. ‘No comment.’
‘Do you think we’ll find evidence that Belinda
Garrett was at your house?’ Malice said.
‘No comment.’
‘Do you think we might find articles of clothing?’
‘No comment.’
‘Or a red suitcase. The one she was pulling behind her when she got off the train at Fallgate?’
‘No comment.’
‘Garrett was at your home, wasn’t she, Elsa? What happened to her?’
‘No comment.’
‘We can play this game all day if you like and wait until the search team comes back with something. Or you can talk to us.’
‘No comment.’
‘Do you remember this?’ Malice slid a plastic evidence bag in front of her. ‘This is the envelope you used to write down your mobile number. You plucked it from a pile of correspondence which was on the worktop in the kitchen. Do you remember, Elsa?’ Kaplan edged the evidence bag towards her. ‘That’s your writing, isn’t it? and your mobile number.’
Kaplan screwed her face up.
‘No… no comment.’
‘You handed me this when we were standing in your kitchen. Does that jog your memory?’
‘No comment.’
‘Your number is written on the one side and on the other side is this …’ Malice turned over the envelope. ‘The front has an address written on it, but it’s not your address is it Elsa? Do you recognise it?’
Elsa studied the writing.
‘No… no…’
‘This is Belinda Garrett’s address. The postmark is dated four days before she went missing. It was posted in London with a first-class stamp. How did this envelope end up in a stack of mail sitting on your worktop?’
‘I… I don’t know.’
‘What was in the envelope, Elsa?’ asked Pietersen.
‘No comment.’
‘Belinda Garrett probably received this three days before she goes missing and it winds up in your kitchen. How does that happen?’ Pietersen pressed her question home.
‘No comment.’
‘I believe you sent something to Garrett and she brought it with her when she visited your house. You carelessly swept up the envelope with the other mail. What was in the envelope and how did it end up at your house?’
