by Ellis, Tim
‘No doubt . . . She has four wonderful children, and her parents are staying to help us out while she takes her degree. So, when I say she’s gone missing – she has actually gone missing.’
‘I understand.’
‘On her way back, she phoned her mother to say she’d be late home. We subsequently discovered she was planning to help a battered wife and her baby to reach a women’s refuge and arranged a rendezvous with the woman in charge of that refuge – she never arrived. I sent police officers to the address she was due to pick up the woman from. As a result there was an armed siege . . .’
‘Which was shown on the television . . .’
‘Exactly. Once it was all over, we discovered that my wife had never arrived there.’
‘You thought Jerry was in the house being held hostage?’
‘Yes. Thankfully she wasn’t. If she had of been, she’d now be dead.’
‘I’m at a loss to explain what’s brought you here.’
‘I put out an alert for Jerry’s car. It was captured on camera heading towards London . . .’ He pulled out his phone and brought the picture of the woman up on the screen. ‘That woman was driving my wife’s car.’
‘And you want to know if that woman is known to us here?’
‘Ever thought of becoming a detective?’
‘Strangely enough . . . no.’ She took the phone from him and examined the picture. ‘I can tell you that she’s not a member of the academic staff. Would you like coffee?’
‘Please.’
She pressed a button on the intercom sitting on her desk. ‘Two coffees please, Sally, and ask Professor Townsend to come to my office.’
‘She’s teaching . . .’
‘Get her cover for fifteen minutes.’
‘Yes, professor.’
‘If the woman is a student,’ she said to Kowalski, ‘Professor Townsend will know her.’
‘What about non-academic staff?’
‘Sally will know. When she brings the coffees in, we’ll ask her. Let’s sit down in the easy chairs, shall we?’
They moved from Professor Knot’s desk to a circle of easy chairs surrounding a coffee table.
A small chubby woman brought in a tray with two coffees and placed it on the table.
‘Show Sally the picture, Chief Inspector.’
Kowalski passed his phone to Sally.
‘Is that woman a member of the support staff, Sally?’
Sally shook her head. ‘No, but I think she might be a student.’
‘Thank you, Sally. Is Professor Townsend on her way?’
Just then there was a tap on the door. It opened and a tall woman with frizzy brown hair appeared.
‘Chief Inspector Kowalski,’ Knot said. ‘This is Professor Kerrie Townsend. Come in, Kerrie.’
‘Should I get another coffee?’ Sally asked handing Kowalski his phone back.
‘No. If Professor Townsend is teaching, then she won’t be staying.’
Sally nodded and left.
‘Show Kerrie the photograph, Chief Inspector.’
He passed the phone to the new woman as she sat down.
‘It looks like Julie Wilkinson,’ Professor Townsend said.
‘Thank you, Kerrie. You can get back to your students now.’
‘Oh! All right.’ She stood up and left.
‘Sally?’ Professor Knot called.
Sally’s head appeared round a connecting door to Kowalski’s left. ‘Yes, Professor.’
‘Can you bring in Julie Wilkinson’s file?’
‘Of course.’
Shortly afterwards Sally returned with a slim file, handed it to the professor and left again.
The professor opened up the file. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got here.’ She rifled through the six or seven pages. ‘Application form and references. She’s only been a student since January, so there wouldn’t be a lot in her file.’
‘Could I have photocopies, please?’
‘I don’t see why not. You are the police, after all – and we know how trustworthy they are.’ She smiled at him. ‘Sally?’ she called again.
Sally looked as though she needed a pit-stop. ‘Yes, professor?’
‘Could you make a copy of everything in the file and bring it all back in?’
‘Of course, professor.’
She took the file and disappeared again.
‘How do you think Julie Wilkinson is involved in your wife’s disappearance?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘There was no reason for her to be driving your wife’s car?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘I take it she’s not answering her mobile?’
‘No.’
‘I thought you could identify the location of a mobile phone?’
‘Only if they’re switched on.’
‘And your wife’s isn’t?’
‘No.’
Sally returned with the file and the photocopies, handed them to the professor and left.
Professor Knot passed the copies to Kowalski. ‘Is there anything else I can do to help?’
He finished his coffee and stood up. ‘I don’t think so. You’ve been very kind. Thank you.’
They shook hands.
‘I hope you find her, Chief Inspector. Not least because she’s a good student.’
‘So do I,’ he said as he left.
Outside, he sat on the steps of the Dickson Poon School of Law building and skimmed through the file. Julie Wilkinson was renting a flat in nearby Whitechapel.
He closed the folder and headed towards Temple tube station.
Chapter Twenty
Maddie arrived as planned at eight forty-five. Parish introduced her to Toadstone and then told him to climb in the back of the Land Rover.
His eyes opened wide. ‘In the back?’
‘You think a Detective Inspector should sit in the back?’
‘Surely there’s enough room for both of us in the front?’
‘It’s too hot for snuggling up.’
‘I’m not really dressed . . .’
‘Do you want to walk?’
Toadstone made a gourmet meal of climbing into the back of the Land Rover and they set off towards Episkopi.
‘I brought the maps,’ Maddie said.
‘Excellent. That’ll help us get our bearings this afternoon.’
The Air Commodore was waiting for them.
After introducing Toadstone, Parish explained what he and Maddie had discovered the day before.
‘So you think Major Durrell is innocent?’
‘I didn’t say that, Sir. We’re sceptical about whether Inspector Kefalis has conducted a thorough investigation – there’s enough room for reasonable doubt.’
‘That might be the case in a British court of law with a British jury, but because he’s charged with killing a Cypriot national he’ll be tried in a Cypriot court, which is slightly . . . should we say . . . different. Also, the Cypriots want nothing more than for an English Army officer to be found guilty of this crime, so reasonable doubt just won’t cut it, Inspector.’
‘Which is why I’ve brought Doctor Toadstone over from England. I know you have your own forensic specialists, but Toadstone is the best there is.’
‘No, that’s fine. It doesn’t surprise me that Kefalis is following the party line and dragging his heels on the translations. If Durrell is found guilty, I have no doubt that he’ll be promoted.’
‘Well, there’ll be no need to translate any of the documents now, because Toadstone speaks and reads Greek – nothing will be lost in translation.’
‘A bit of an academic, Doctor Toadstone?’
Parish grunted. ‘Genius, Air Commodore. Fully paid up member of MENSA.’
‘Really? Did you know that everyone has a photographic memory, it’s just that some don’t have film?’ He threw his head back and laughed. ‘One of my famous one-liners hey, Sergeant Madison?’
‘Yes, Sir. Very funny, Sir.’
&
nbsp; ‘Listen, Doctor Toadstone, I’m writing an archaeological research paper. You wouldn’t . . . ? No, it’s probably . . .’
‘I’ll take a look at the paper if you think I can help? It wouldn’t be on the excavations at the Neolithic site of Ais Yiorkis in Paphos District, would it?’
‘I had a feeling you and I were like-minded souls travelling along the same branch line. What would you say to a dinner party tonight? My wife and I are having a few friends round.’
‘That’s very kind, Air Commodore.’
‘Excellent. My driver will pick you up from the hotel reception at eight o’clock.’
‘I look forward to it.’
Parish wondered why he and Richards hadn’t been invited to dinner. ‘So, Dr Toadstone is going to look at the reports, speak to the pathologist and examine the evidence that still exists. He’ll need a driver and a vehicle to get to Limassol and to the different locations in Limassol.’
‘Absolutely no problem at all.’ He went to his desk, picked up the phone and arranged for a driver and vehicle to meet them outside. ‘There we are,’ he said, sitting back down.
‘Also, Sergeant Madison has led me to understand that you sometimes employ an ex-pat psychologist called Dr Melanie Calne?’
‘That’s correct. Dr Calne has been very helpful with some of our soldiers in the past.’
‘If you agree, I’d like her to construct a psychological profile of Major Durrell.’
‘Wouldn’t that be tantamount to doing Kefalis’ job for him?’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of obtaining psychological ammunition that he couldn’t have done it, but if she finds otherwise . . . Well, you did say you wanted the truth.’
Parish noted that the Air Commodore didn’t look convinced by his argument.
‘Speak to my secretary on the way out, she’ll give you her number.’
‘Thank you, Sir. This morning, Sergeant Madison and I are off to Agios Tychon to speak to Jackson Wyberg – whose name is being run through the UK CrimInt database as we speak. And this afternoon, we’re going to see if we can’t find out something about the other three women who have gone missing. It’s strange that they haven’t been found yet.’
‘Strange? In what way?’
‘We’re not convinced that they’re connected to Major Durrell’s case. Caterina Makhairas was murdered in her own flat either by Major Durrell, or someone else who had a key and killed her while the Major was in the shower. I can’t see any similarity between that and the three missing women.’
‘I see. So you’re suggesting that someone else is responsible for taking the other women?’
‘It’s all speculation at the moment, Sir. Hopefully, we’ll know more after today.’
The Air Commodore stood up. ‘All right. The same time tomorrow . . . Of course, I’ll see you tonight, Dr Toadstone.’
‘You do know it’s Saturday tomorrow?’ Parish said.
‘You’re not thinking of taking the weekend off are you, Inspector?’
‘I was thinking more of you, Sir.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’ll be here bright and early as usual.’
The three of them shuffled out.
Maddie got the number of Dr Calne, and used the secretary’s phone to make the call.
‘She’ll provide a verbal profile today. A written report will take a week.’
‘Exactly what I wanted to hear,’ he said.
Outside the building Toadstone said, ‘Do you really think I’m the best there is, Sir?’
‘Don’t let it go to your head, Toadstone. What I didn’t tell the Air Commodore was that in ninety percent of the murder cases we have to deal with, you’re about as much use as a chocolate teapot. So, in terms of value for money, you’re an expensive luxury.’
‘If I’m the best there is, that’s not saying much for the other forensic officers then, is it?’
‘You said it, Toadstone . . . you said it. If it was up to me . . .’
‘I think I can guess what would happen if it was up to you.’
‘Count your lucky stars that it’s not up to me then. But . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘. . . You have a golden opportunity here to restore my faith in the value of forensic science to a murder investigation.’
‘I thought I might.’
‘One other thing, Toadstone.’
‘Yes?’
‘A message was found on a rolled-up piece of paper in the victim’s mouth: GOD IS WAITING. I want to know what that means when we meet up again tonight.’
‘I’ll try my best.’
‘Let’s hope that’s good enough.’
‘Yes – let’s hope.’
‘Right, Maddie and I off to Agios Tychon. Your driver shouldn’t be too long. Any questions?’
‘I don’t think so. You’ve made my position quite clear.’
‘Excellent.’
Parish and Maddie made their way to the Land Rover.
‘You were a bit hard on him,’ Maddie said. ‘He seems rather nice as well.’
‘He is nice – too nice. But I have to keep on his back though, otherwise he’d begin getting ideas above his station.’
‘You’re teasing me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course. Toadstone’s one of the good ones. He saved my life once, you know.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. If he hadn’t pulled the trigger, I’d be a dead man. Instead, we have one less serial killer. Now, if you want a man who’ll never let you down, you couldn’t go far wrong hooking up with Toadstone.’
‘Mmmm.’
‘And while we’re on the topic of men – I’m off limits. I did say that yesterday, but you obviously heard something completely different. If there’s any more flirting, touching or stripping off in front of me, I’ll trade you in for a less attractive model – understood?’
She grinned sheepishly. ‘Understood.’
‘Don’t get me wrong. If I was single, I’d happily fall in love with you, and enjoy doing so, but yesterday you were tempting me to do something that you yourself hate in men.’
‘Yes, I know – I’m a bitch.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far. So, that’s an end to it.’
‘All right.’
‘You were going to obtain a complete list of the times Major Durrell signed out and back into the camp during the last month . . .’
‘Oh yes.’ She took out two folded sheets of A4 paper from her shirt pocket and passed it to him.
He ran his finger down the list. On the dates that the three women went missing, Major Durrell had signed out of the camp in the early evening and signed back in between one and two in the morning. Circumstantial evidence, of course, but he’d had the opportunity. Also, those three dates did not coincide with either his nights at the amateur dramatic group, or his visits to his and Caterina’s love nest. The question now was: Where did he go?
He told Maddie what he’d found. ‘Is it possible we could get the Major’s bank account information for the past three months?’
‘I don’t see why not. When we get to Agios Tychon I’ll phone the pay officer and ask him to organise it. We should be able to pick it up later.’
‘Will he have a Cypriot or a British bank account?’
‘Both probably. If you get paid into your UK bank account and then transfer money here to live on, you lose out on the exchange rate. If you ask for all your wages to be paid into a Cypriot bank account . . . Well, apart from the fact that the Cypriot government can dip into it to pay for parties and things, you lose out on the exchange rate again if you need to transfer money back to England. So, what most people do is arrange for a percentage to be paid into a Cypriot bank account to live on while they’re here, and the rest sent back to the UK to pay direct debits, standing orders, mortgages and so on.’
‘Good idea. Then we’ll need both.’
Maddie parked up outside Jackson Wyberg’s impressive villa and made the call to the
pay office.
His phone vibrated, so he climbed out of the Land Rover, so that he and Maddie weren’t talking over each other.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s me.’
‘I know it’s you. Have you got any information on Jackson Wyberg yet?’
‘No.’
‘I’m here at his house. I want it in the next half hour.’
‘I should report you to the European Court of Human Rights.’
‘Again?’
‘One of these days, I will.’
‘Just get the information and stop whining.’
‘I’ll ring them again.’
‘That would be a good idea. So, what did you ring for?’
‘Oh yes! I rang you, didn’t I?’
He sighed. ‘And for your information I’m nowhere near a swimming pool.’
‘No, I didn’t ring about that. Have you seen the news?’
‘Where would I see the news?’
‘You could have seen it in a bar?’
‘Is that what you think I’m doing – staggering from bar-to-bar getting plastered and keeping myself up-to-date with the news?’
‘Let’s not forget the swimming.’
‘No, we mustn’t ever forget that. Well?’
‘Remember WikiUK were promising to publish government Top Secret documents?’
‘A vague recollection.’
‘Have a guess what’s on the list?’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Well I never.’
‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘Not a clue.’
‘Epsilon.’
‘I see. When are they planning to publish that?’
‘Ten o’clock tonight – UK time.’
‘I look forward to reading it.’
‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’
‘What else do you want me to say?’
‘I don’t know. You could say you’re excited.’
‘I’m excited.’
‘You could thank me for letting you know.’
‘Thank you for letting me know.’
‘You’re not bothered about finding out the truth anymore, are you?’
‘No. The truth is: I have everything I need – your mother, Jack, Digby and you.’
‘I’d like to come before the dog, please.’
‘You know what I mean. I have the horrible feeling that another version of the truth – if there is such a thing – will only bring misery and heartache.’
