“Don’t fall into the trap of believing everything you read. How do you know the words weren’t deliberately misspelled to make us think it was someone semi-literate?” He hugged her. “Don’t dwell on what’s happened tonight. From tomorrow, the centre will be up and running. It’s amazing what’s been achieved here.”
She nodded. “You’re right, but it still pisses me off.”
“Katy!”
She blushed. “Sorry, Dad. Forgot who I was talking to. Come on, Danny, let’s go and grab some food before it all disappears.” She looked back at Paolo. “You coming?”
He shook his head. “No, you go on. I’m going to call Dave. Unfortunately, this is such a public accusation, it has to be dealt with as a crime, even if one hasn’t been committed.”
***
Paolo sat in the centre’s administration office opposite Montague Mason and wished for the hundredth time he found the man even a tiny bit likeable. There was something almost repellent about him, but Paolo couldn’t quite pin down what it was that made him feel uncomfortable in Mason’s company.
“Montague, it’s no good saying the same thing over and over. That sign was uncovered in the full glare of a media spotlight. Whether I want to or not, I have no choice but to look into the centre’s fundraising books. You know as well as I do, an investigation has to be carried out in the open.”
Montague scowled. “No, Paolo, I don’t see that at all. Some idiot woman scrawls a message and suddenly I’m seen as a thief? How would you like it if that happened to you?”
“I wouldn’t like it, but I’d have to deal with it. That’s what you’ve got to do. Deal with it so that everyone can see the accusation has no foundation. First of all, we don’t know it was a woman. Anyone can buy lipstick and a man could easily have decided to use one to make us think it was a woman. Secondly, if we don’t investigate it’s going to look as if we’re covering up for you.” Paolo held up his hand. “Yes, I know you say you’ve nothing to hide and nothing to cover up, but the press will have a field day if we don’t show we’re taking the accusation seriously.”
“Fuck the press! I’m sick to death of all of them. They’ve done nothing constructive to help with this project. Instead of supporting and encouraging us to make a place for young people to go, the bloody headlines have been all about how much public money has been wasted on drug-taking louts and unmarried mothers. What they’ve been screaming for is for us to fix potholes and turn the canal into a tourist attraction! And we all know why the canal project became the press darling, don’t we!”
Paolo sighed. “This is not the time to go into your rivalry with Fletcher Simpson.”
Montague snorted. “Isn’t it? You heard that bastard Hennessy making his snide accusations. Why would he do that? Because he writes for the paper Simpson owns, that’s why. And why was Simpson so keen to get the canal project financed instead of this centre? Because he happens to own the three businesses on the banks of the canal that would benefit most from getting it cleaned up and turned into a tourist attraction. If you want to investigate wrongdoing, try looking at that bastard and leave me alone. In fact, I wouldn’t mind betting it was someone working for Simpson who defaced the plaque.”
Paolo looked across at Detective Sergeant Dave Johnson who’d been silently taking notes. Dave grinned. This was the fourth time Montague had made the accusation. Clearly, in his mind, it could only be Simpson or someone working for him who would do such a thing. Paolo thought he might well be right, but he still had to look into other possible motives.
“Montague, let’s get down to business. I will arrange for someone from financial crimes to make sure all is as it should be with the account keeping. In the meantime, the sooner we think about who had access to the plaque, the sooner we can call it a night and get some sleep. Who has been in the hall since the plaque was put in place? Actually, more to the point, who has had access since the curtain was put up?”
“Lots of people,” Montague said with a massive sigh that made Paolo want to shake him. “Council members, cleaning staff, the caretaker, the new tutors and instructors, people bringing in books for the youth library, you name an occupation, they’ve been in the hall at some point or another.”
“I’m going to need you to be a bit more specific. I want you to write down every name you can remember. Ask your secretary to do the same. If neither of you know the names of individuals, write down the company, so that I can follow up on it,” Paolo said.
He stood up and waited for Dave to finish scribbling and close his notebook. They said their goodbyes and headed for the door, but stopped when Montague called out.
“Of course, there are a couple of helpers who have been here most days. I suppose one of them could have it in for me.”
Paolo looked back. The way Montague had spoken it was clear he felt the two concerned needed investigating.
“Okay, add their names to your list and I’ll look into their backgrounds.”
“You’re not going to need to look far,” Montague sneered. “It’s your daughter and that boy she hangs about with. He’s bad news if you ask me.”
CHAPTER THREE
Nemesis in Action Blog
Day Two - Jason Corbett
I never enjoyed the second day. The bastards still retained just enough arrogance to believe they would get back at me when they were free. It was also the day I had to teach them some manners and that was never easy with people who’d never had any to start with.
I opened the door and recoiled at the stench. Jason had soiled himself overnight. They all did eventually. That was one of the reasons there was a drain under the table. The ability to hose down the men was a necessity.
As I closed the door, Jason moved his head in the direction of the sound.
“Water, please, so thirsty,” he whispered.
I smiled. It was almost as if he’d read my mind. He was going to get water. Lots of water. I intended to clean him up inside and out. Purify the body and purify the mind.
I walked across and turned on the tap, allowing some water to trickle from the hose. Jason’s head spun in my direction. I knew how he felt. That longing for water must be overriding all other emotions right now, even fear. That would change.
I turned the tap to full force, pointed the power hose at Jason’s rear end, and pulled the trigger. He’d asked for water, so I let him have it. A fierce ice cold jet rushed out, pummelling Jason’s exposed flesh and removing the faeces.
Jason screamed as the water connected with his raw wounds from last night’s activities. I needed to wash away the blood and skin so that he would be nice and clean for me to go at him again.
“Turn it off, please. I’m begging you,” he screamed. “It hurts. Fuck, it hurts.”
“Yes, I know,” I yelled over the sound of the rushing water and stepping closer to point the jet directly into the man’s cheek crack. “I have to make sure I flush out all traces of your filth.”
As the soiled water ran into the drain under the table, Jason screams turned to whimpers. When I was certain he was as clean as I could get him, I turned off the tap and dropped the hose next to it. Walking back to the table, I smacked Jason’s cheeks with my open hand. I’d need to put some alcohol on those wounds, but that was a job for tomorrow. A final gift before I released him.
“Let me go,” he whispered. “You’ve had your fun. Please, let me go.”
“Is that what your victims said to you? Did they beg? Did they promise to do whatever you asked, if only you let them go?”
Jason went still.
“Ah, you didn’t realise I know everything about your sordid secret life, did you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said. “You’ve got the wrong man. That’s what it is, you’ve made a mistake.”
I sighed again. So bloody predictable. They all said that on days one and two. By tomorrow, when it was time for him to go home, he’d have confessed to his crimes and would never be stupid enou
gh to commit any more.
“You’ve had it easy so far. I’m going to leave you until this evening to think about why you’re here. When I come back again, you can look forward to my visits every hour on the hour until I get too tired to service you. Bye for now.”
Jason must have realised I meant what I’d said, as he cried out.
“Wait! Please. I’m so thirsty.”
“Would you like some water to drink?”
Jason’s body trembled. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please, if you take off the blindfold I promise not to look. If you’ll just–”
“Just what? Give you a drink? Sorry, no can do. You have to take your punishment like a man. See you in a few hours.”
“No!” Jason begged. “Please. I’ll die unless you give me something to drink.”
“No you won’t. I told you. You’ll be here for three days. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink, but lots and lots of sex. Isn’t that what you tell your victims? Don’t you tell them they are there to provide you with lots of sex? Now it’s your turn to find out what that feels like. Keep that thought in mind until I get back.”
***
Paolo glared at the files and heaps of paperwork covering most of his desk. No matter how much time he spent on it, the piles grew instead of disappearing. And now, when he was swamped with cases he needed to concentrate on, he was going to have to expend vital resources on the lipstick idiocy.
He thought back to his conversation with Montague the night before. What struck him as odd was the man’s reluctance to have the books looked into. You’d think he’d be only too happy to show the people of Bradchester that he had nothing to hide, but it had felt as if he’d been on the verge of refusing access to the accounts. Interesting, Paolo thought, wondering if there was a bit of fire hiding inside the smoke.
He recalled the nasty look of glee on Montague’s face when he’d mentioned Danny and Katy as possible suspects. Paolo sighed. Whether he wanted to or not, the fact that Montague had named them meant that Paolo would have to get one of his team to ask Katy and Danny if they were involved.
A knock on his door made him look up to see Cathy Connor peering round it. CC’s hair over the last few months had been Ronald McDonald red. Paolo wondered how long it would be before she changed it again. He smiled, remembering the vivid blue that had lasted for just one day before word from above had come down ordering it to be dyed a more suitable colour.
“Nice to see you smiling, sir,” she said. “I expected you to be scowling after the mess last night. Have you seen the papers?”
Paolo picked up the Bradchester Sport and showed CC the headline.
“Oh, that’s not nice. ‘Fundraising Copper in Bed with Councillor?’ Personally,” CC said, grinning at him, “I couldn’t imagine you and Mr Mason in bed together, but maybe they mean it figuratively.”
Paolo laughed. “I certainly hope they don’t mean it literally. My tastes definitely don’t run in that direction. The clever use of the question mark keeps them on the right side of a defamation claim by me or by Montague. Talking of Montague Mason, I’m expecting someone from the centre to bring over a list of everyone who had access to the plaque.”
“That could be what the woman downstairs has come in for. That’s why I’m here. A Miss Clementine Towers says she has information about the youth centre that you need to act on.”
“I don’t need to see her. Ask her for the list of names and give it Andrea to check, will you?”
CC smiled. “I would, sir, but she insists on seeing you. She has vital information and only the man at the top can deal with it. She needs someone with authority to act.”
Paolo laughed. “That sounded like a quote.”
“It was, sir, almost word for word. She won’t speak to anyone in a lesser position. To be honest, I think even you might be a bit too lowly for her, but I don’t suppose the chief would be too pleased if I took her up there.”
“Okay, bring her up, but once I get the list, I’ll need as many of you as possible to eliminate possible suspects.”
CC turned to go, but stopped with her hand on the door handle and looked back. “This is a bit OTT, isn’t it, sir? I mean, it’s only a bit of lippy on a plaque.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but you’ve seen today’s headlines. Okay, they’re not all as pointed as the Bradchester Sport, but most of them imply if I don’t investigate it’s because I have something to hide. I’ve been too active in the fundraising for the centre not to have mud clinging to me if there’s any thrown. Anyway, go and get Miss Towers. The sooner we clear this up, the better.”
Five minutes later CC ushered in a woman Paolo guessed to be in her late sixties. She was dressed completely inappropriately for her age, wearing a flared denim skirt and bright striped tee-shirt in alternating lines of yellow and black. Paolo expected her to start buzzing at any moment.
“Are you in charge of what happens at the youth centre?” she demanded.
“I’m the investigating officer, yes. Won’t you please take a seat,” Paolo said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. “I believe you have some information for me.”
“I do indeed and I hope you’re going to do something about it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Really I couldn’t. It’s a disgrace. That’s what it is, a disgrace.”
“Well, it’s certainly unfortunate, but–”
“Unfortunate! How can you say that when you don’t even know why I’m here? Unless you put them there. The way society is today, it wouldn’t surprise me.”
Paolo thought he now knew how Alice felt when she’d dropped down the rabbit’s hole. “I’m sorry, I think we’re talking at cross purposes. I thought you had come from the youth centre.”
“I have,” Clementine Towers said. “I’ve just come straight from there and I want you to do something about it.”
“About what?”
“The books, of course. Why else do you think I’m here?”
Paolo thought he saw a glimmer of light. “That is not for me to investigate. I’ve turned that over to financial crimes.”
“What? Why? What have the finances got to do with it? They are all donated.”
The light blinked out and Paolo felt like he was back with Alice.
“Shall we start again?” he suggested. “Tell me, Miss Towers, are you here to bring me a list of names prepared by Mr Mason and his staff?”
She looked as bewildered as Paolo felt. “No, why should I?”
Paolo smiled. “No reason at all. It was just a misunderstanding. What can I do for you?”
“You can send in your men to remove the filth on the shelves in the youth centre.”
“I’m afraid you are going to have to be a bit more specific.”
“Books, officer! Books that will corrupt the minds of our young if we allow them to be read. I went there today. I go every day to see what I can do to help out. As a gesture of goodwill I took in all my old Richmal Crompton and Enid Blyton novels to donate to the open library. Do you know the young woman there was barely civil to me? She had the cheek to say those books were hardly likely to appeal to anyone. Old-fashioned she called them. Do you know what’s on the shelves there? The complete range of the dreadful Potter books, that blasphemous Pullman trilogy, not to mention those subversive Twilight books and the Lord only knows how many others equally vile.”
Paolo realised too late that the woman had the light of an evangelist in her eyes. Silently promising to get his own back on CC for passing a madwoman on to him, he smiled at his visitor.
“I’m afraid the books at the centre are outside my remit.”
“Perhaps,” she said, “but not outside your remit as a parent to explain to your daughter the error of her ways!”
“What on earth has my daughter to do with anything?”
“She was the one who was so rude to me! In fact, she told me to mind my own business.”
Paolo found himself silently applauding Katy and wishing he could follow her example, but he
couldn’t tell the woman to get lost, unfortunately.
“Look, I don’t think reading a bit of fantasy hurt anyone.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she hissed. “Fantasy leads young minds into the dark arts. It’s because of books like that we have murders and rapes in the classroom!”
Paolo stood up. “I promise you I’ll look into it. Allow me to show you out.”
She smacked her palm down on his desk. “Don’t humour me, young man. I’ve been held against my will in the grip of evil forces. I know what it’s like to be sucked into the depths of depravity. I’m going to keep an eye on things over at that centre and if there’s any sign of–”
“You let me know if you spot any evil doings,” Paolo said, moving towards the door and opening it. “I’ll certainly look out for you and will take action if I see you again.”
She stood up and shook out her denim skirt, looking him up and down. “You are responsible for this town’s morals. I’m not sure you’re up to the job, but I’ll pray for you.”
“Thank you,” Paolo said, looking out into the main office and signalling to CC to come over. “Please show Miss Towers out and then come back here afterwards.”
He went back into his office and shut the door. Leaning back against it, he allowed the laughter to seep out. He had no doubt he would receive another visit from Miss Towers. The only thing to decide was where to hide when she came looking for him.
When CC came back she held a list in her hand, which she silently passed over to Paolo.
“You look as if you’re in shock, CC. Did the delightful Miss Towers favour you with her message about the dangers to our youth?”
CC nodded. “Is she for real?”
“Sad to say, I think she is. She genuinely believes the children of today are corrupted by the books they read. Anyway, that’s her problem, not ours. Let’s have a look at this list. Who brought it in, by the way?”
“Mason’s secretary, April Greychurch.”
Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 2
