A Perfect Likeness

by Roger Gumbrell

  Thirty minutes later the van and the three cars had travelled the six miles along the coast road to the rural village of Dersfield. They waited while the two large, electronically operated, metal gates opened. It allowed sufficient time for the officer, uncomfortably installed in a dense thicket diagonally opposite the entrance, to log details of who and when. He’d been positioned since 11pm and had only made note of one other arrival, Sylvia Page at 11. 58pm. Nobody had departed the premises.

  The Page’s house was impressive. Large, with five bedrooms and sitting in around two acres of land that had been designed for easy maintenance. The front and sides were laid to lawn with an assortment of small flowering trees and shrubs. The roadside boundary wall was constructed of sand coloured bricks and stood six feet high. Halfway along this wall was the entrance gate. The wide gravelled drive, with an established privet hedge on either side, fanned out as it approached the house, forming a large turning circle with a central pond and fountain. The fountain had not been used since the Pages moved in. A four car garage was to the right of the house and two further outbuildings, smaller than the garage, were to the left. At the rear of the property were an orchard, an enclosed swimming pool and a summer kitchen with BBQ area. Wire fencing and tightly woven conifer hedging stood high, protecting the side and rear boundaries. There were no immediate neighbours; the surrounding land being a mixture of private and common woodland. Edward Page considered the house perfect for his purpose.

  Sylvia Page had opened the larger of the two outbuildings and covered the central work-bench with a clear plastic sheet. The building was the Star Boats scuba equipment store. On metal racks along the two side walls were oxygen bottles. Full bottles were green tagged and the empty ones, red. On the higher shelves were torches, two underwater cameras, underwater note pads, snorkelling equipment and harpoon guns. On the floor were a selection of weights, and all-in-one wet suits and flippers were hanging from rails across the end wall.

  The first of the three packages was removed from the drum and placed on the work-bench. Page used a Stanley knife to remove the hermetically sealed outer plastic covering, then the triple layered inner to reveal twenty, one kilogram packets of top quality South American cocaine.

  Page made two random checks to confirm the quality and they were re-packed with ten kilos in each package. Both destined for London. The same procedure for the second package. This time half each to Birmingham and Manchester. Both sent via London. The final package was for southern England and would be taken by the three men who had been out on Blue Star. These were Page’s initial link in the distribution network that he had established. The men, like everyone involved in the operation, knew the risks, but the rewards were too high to be ignored. In a matter of days they would be many thousands of pounds better off and that was all that concerned them. They were also aware that their payments to the organisation must not fail to arrive on time. They were part of a group from which there was no way out and any attempt to cheat them would be dealt with in the most permanent of ways.

  The three cars departed at 6. 34am, turning left from the house towards the A27. All went to the addresses the surveillance team had obtained. Rawston departed 7. 34am in the hired Ford Escort van positioned at the house the previous afternoon. On reaching the A27 he headed west and joined the A23 to London. The London police team, warned less than one hour earlier, assumed responsibility for this vehicle from the M25 and were able to video Rawston transferring his load to a waiting vehicle in Camden Town.

  *

  Deckman arrived at his office early, wanting to be informed immediately of how the overnight surveillance had concluded. He sat at his desk attempting to complete the paper on Neighbourhood Watch he’d been instructed to have ready by the end of the week; in two days time. It was not possible, his mind was one-tracked. Cooperation between the public and police would have to be put on hold. As he returned the folder to the in-tray the phone rang, but it was not the call he had hoped for. The news was bad. Deckman had slipped up again.

  ‘Terry, for goodness sake, what’s the matter with you?’ said Deckman’s wife. ‘It’s Richard’s birthday and you always wait until the kids get up before you leave for work on their day. And you never told me you were leaving early nor did you re-set the alarm. I’ll be glad when this wretched case has been resolved.’

  Deckman cursed himself. ‘Sorry, Jens, no excuse. Is Richard okay?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve told him there was an emergency. It is this Michael Campbell business isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is, but it should not be getting to me like it is. I need to talk about it tonight, if I’m allowed back home.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, darling, you know I understand, but the boys are not so tolerant and have noticed the change in you, as I have told you before. Of course we can talk about it. Well, you do the talking and I’ll just listen, as always.’

  ‘I know, Jens, but you listen so well.’

  ‘Just one thing, promise me you will be home for Richard’s party tonight. Just the family, he doesn’t want any friends but he does want his father.’

  ‘I’m going to Nunhouse prison this afternoon, but I promise I will be back.’

  As soon as he had replaced the handset the phone rang again. This time it was Fraser. ‘Guv, Customs reckon they may have a lead on the delivery ship. If it is the one they think it is it could be Columbia bound. It’s being tracked and as soon as they have any information they will contact you.’

  ‘What about our own surveillance, did anything come of it?’

  ‘Looking positive, Guv. I’m with some of the lads now waiting for their reports. I’ll be back in about half an hour or so.’

  Deckman wanted detail now, not in half an hour, but you didn’t rush Fraser. He was old school and did things his way. Deckman checked his watch and shook his head. It was stomach time and he guessed Fraser would be having another greasy breakfast. With a bit more effort and a change of mentality he knew his sergeant could have been a DI. Deckman was full of respect for the man, his mind was an encyclopedia and he got results out of nothing. Fraser played out his ‘simple-cop’ role to perfection and Deckman was more than happy to go along with it. He reached to the in-tray and opened the Neighbourhood Watch folder.

  Chapter 16

  Mack looked towards the door of The Study as another customer entered. If it was a regular he always liked to have their drink waiting as they reached the bar. It was not a regular, at least, not any more. He was shocked. An ex-customer and friend he had hoped he would never have to set eyes on again. His anger rose immediately and the months of rage he had kept under tight control was about to erupt, but he couldn’t allow it to happen. It wouldn’t be helpful for Trish.

  John Grant extended his hand, but Mack ignored it and continued to wipe the top of the bar.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve showing your face around here, why don’t you just turn around and get out before any more damage is done?’

  ‘I take it you’re not pleased to see me, Mack?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  ‘Well, it’s been around seven months or so, thought you might have missed me.’

  ‘You think a lot of yourself, who on earth would miss a person like you after what you did? It was good riddance I can assure you, and if it’s a drink you’re after, I can tell you now it won’t be on the house.’

  ‘It’s Trish I want to see, but she doesn’t seem to be in and she’s had the locks changed as well, which is way out of order in my book.’

  ‘Well, in my book, it’s hardly surprising. After all it is her house and you walked out on her .’

  ‘Come on, Mack, it happens. I’ve heard through the grapevine that Trish has taken to drink. Is she likely to be coming in soon to continue drowning her sorrows because she is still missing me so much? Obviously that’s why she is drinking.’

  Mack resisted the urge to throw a punch. ‘My God, what an obnoxious, arrogant creature you are. You’ve
not changed a bit and to believe I used to think of you as a friend. For your information there is nothing wrong with Trish and yes I am expecting her any time now. She has taken my mother to have her hair done.’

  ‘Oh, how cosy, very cosy indeed. Didn’t take you long to get your feet under the table, did it? But don’t count your chickens old boy, I’ve come to take her back.’

  The glass Mack had been holding smashed as it hit the floor. ‘Dear me, rather clumsy of you, Mack,’ said Grant. One side of his mouth stretched upwards as he smirked. He placed a five pound note on the bar. ‘I think I’ll wait for my wife to return. Give me a small beer.’

  Mack served the beer, gave the change and went into the back room to phone Trish.

  ‘Just make sure you come in through the back door, Trish. There is someone here to see you and I think it better I speak with you first. Don’t worry, see you in a bit.’

  ‘Who is it, Mack?’ asked Trish after taking his mother upstairs.

  ‘John, he’s at the bar.’

  ‘I thought it might be. The bastard. Why does he have to come back when I’m just getting my life back together?’

  ‘Look, Trish, it doesn’t have to change anything unless… of course, you want it to.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, I don’t want anything to do with him.’ She hugged Mack. ‘Please come with me.’

  He kissed her. ‘Okay, but don’t let him see he’s getting to you. I’ll send him to the Private Party room.’

  ‘Still waiting, Mack, old boy,’ said Grant, ‘I’m not going to vanish into thin air.’

  ‘Very pleased to hear it, old boy, because Trish has returned and is looking forward to seeing you too. Just make your way through the door in the far corner will you, it will be more private.’

  ‘Glad you are taking this like a gentleman, Mack. You do realise, don’t you, that Trish will come back to me like a shot. She idolised me, old boy.’ Grant took a final sip of beer and slid the half full glass across the bar before moving. ‘You’ve changed the beer, too much gas.’

  Trish was waiting by the Party Room bar with Mack standing at her side.

  ‘Ah, hello, Trish, how nice to see you.’ He stepped forward to kiss her cheek. She declined and stepped back.

  ‘What do you want, John?’

  ‘I want to talk to you in private, not with your minder.’

  ‘Mack is not my minder. Anything you have to say you can say in front of him or not at all.’

  ‘Fine, if that’s what you want. I only wanted to save him embarrassment. Trish, I’ve been thinking lately that it would be a good idea if we got back together again, so I thought I’d pop over to give you the chance to give it another go.’

  ‘Give me a chance. My word, you’ve got a nerve. Remember it was you who walked out on me and I have no intention of giving you a second chance. I take it Lady Muck has seen the error of her ways and kicked you out?’

  ‘No she hasn’t, she doesn’t know I’m here.’

  ‘Huh,’ said Mack, ‘running out on her just like you did Trish. Typical.’

  Grant ignored Mack’s remark. ‘I’m sure you really would like us to get back together, Trish, so why not give it some more thought when you are not under pressure from outside influences.’ He looked towards Mack. ‘I’m sure you will see the benefits. Everyone used to say we made a wonderful couple.’

  ‘If you had come back within a week or two, full of apologies and admitting you had been a right bastard, then I might just have been stupid enough to consider it. Now you come back talking as though I am the guilty party. Forget it, John, you don’t have a chance. I used to think I loved you, but since Mack and I have become close I realise it wasn’t love at all. What I feel for Mack is so different, so wonderful.’

  ‘He’s fancied you for years, I saw it when we came in here. Couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve been having an affair with him for ages.’ He recoiled at the force of Trish’s slap on his cheek.

  Mack made a move to throw a punch, but Trish stopped him. ‘No, Mack, he’s not worth it.’ She turned back to Grant, the side of his face a deep crimson. ‘I trust you have got the message? I suggest you get out of here now and don’t show your face in the area again. For your information I have already spoken with a solicitor and you should be hearing from him any day now, telling you that I am seeking a divorce.’

  Grant’s left hand was gently massaging his cheek. ‘You are making a big mistake, Trish, you’ll be much better off with me. I am going to demand half the house as is my right and I demand access now to sort out all my belongings.’

  ‘The house is all mine, John, as well you know. It is in my name and the mortgage was paid out of my own account. I have been assured the house is safe. Your belongings are all in storage and will be sent to your girlfriend’s address whenever you like. Just inform my solicitor. Now get out of here before I let Mack tear you apart.’

  ‘You will live to regret this, both of you. I have friends who would love to do some serious damage to you and this excuse for a pub.’

  Mack went to the door and shouted across to four regulars. All off-duty firemen having a quick drink after an hours work-out in the gym. They stood by the door frustrating Grant’s effort to get away.

  ‘Boys, this man has just threatened Trish and I with some serious damage. Just remember him will you, in case he is stupid enough to have it carried out.’

  ‘How about giving him a little taster of what it might be like?’ suggested the smaller of the three as he pushed Grant into a corner and raised a hand as if to throw a punch.’ His six foot four inch muscle-bound frame making his track suit fit like an extra layer of skin.

  ‘Great thought, but best not. Let him go.’

  The firemen stepped aside allowing a nervous Grant to depart.

  ‘Thanks, boys, the next one is on me.’

  ‘You don’t think he meant those threats, do you, Mack?’ asked Trish.

  ‘No chance. Especially now he’s seen what would be waiting for him.’

  ‘Mack, have you remembered I’m going to Nunhouse Prison with Inspector Deckman this afternoon. I need to freshen myself up a bit. Don’t forget to keep an eye on your mother and I’ll come over when I get back. And get up those stairs, now, and tell her what a great job they did with her hair.’

  *

  Deckman and Trish were escorted to the meeting room where Trish had first met Michael Campbell. Doctor Ingles was already there, standing at the window and looking out over an empty courtyard except for a handful of pigeons searching for food. The afternoon exercise session had been cut short due to a sudden downpour. He turned as his guests entered.

  ‘Good to see you again, Miss Lister, and you too, Terry. It’s been quite a while, how’s your golf these days?’

  ‘Going downhill, fast. Lack of practice I guess.’

  ‘Excellent, now’s the time for a match. We’ll make a date while I’ve a chance to win. Michael will be glad to see you as he’s been a bit down for the last few days. He thinks he has been forgotten.’

  ‘He might be pleased to see Trish, but I suspect I won’t be met with open arms.’

  ‘I’ve spoken with him, Terry, and I sincerely hope he takes notice of what I have said. Yes, he’s a very bitter man and, if he is innocent, maybe he has a right to be, but that does not excuse rudeness to the people who are trying to help him.’

  ‘Don’t forget it was me who put him away.’

  ‘He was very offhand with me to start with,’ said Trish, ‘but he changed after Dr Ingles had a go at him.’

  Campbell’s escorts waited at the door, allowing him to enter alone.

  He ignored Deckman, going direct to Trish and shaking her hand. ‘Good to see you, Miss Lister, I was beginning to wonder whether I would see you again.’ He sat down next to Ingles.

  ‘Michael,’ Ingles raised his voice, ‘I warned you Inspector Deckman would be here and advised you it w
ould do no good if you were discourteous and what happens? You immediately disregard everything I have said. I won’t stand for it.’

  ‘I know, Doc, but seeing him again has doubled the agony.’

  ‘Sorry, Michael, unless you change your attitude and apologise then this meeting is over, understand?’

  ‘But, Doc…’

  ‘Listen, Michael,’ Deckman interrupted, hoping to calm Campbell. ‘I can understand you hating me and I accept it, but remember why I am here. I know I can never give you back the two years you’ve spent in jail if you are innocent, but I have listened to what has been said and my superiors have given me authority to take another look.’

  Campbell looked towards Ingles and Trish for some kind of support. He received no indication and so stood up offering his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Inspector, thank you for coming. It was very rude of me, I do apologise. And to you, Doc, as well. It won’t happen again. I hope you have some good news for me, Inspector?’

  ‘Right, Michael, Miss Lister has provided me with some very interesting information as a result of which we believe we have discovered the woman Victoria referred to as her ‘twin’.’

  ‘So it was true, Victoria didn’t make it all up for fun?’

  ‘Yes, Michael, it does appear she wasn’t joking and although I haven’t seen her yet, Miss Lister says the likeness is extraordinary. We now believe this woman and several of her colleagues are involved in unlawful activities.’

  ‘Have you arrested them, Inspector?’ asked Campbell.

  ‘No, as I said, I have not seen her yet and they are still under surveillance. At this time I have to tell you we have no evidence to suggest this woman had any involvement in the murder of Victoria.’

  Campbell’s expression of anticipation changed to one of dismay. His head dropped as he spoke. ‘You said you will be taking another look, but does that mean you will not be officially reopening the case?’