“Jess, tell me–”
“No, not over the phone. I’ve been offered an incredible opportunity. I need to discuss it with you. Okay?”
She ended the call before he could answer, but he told himself it didn’t sound like she’d found someone else down there in London. Or did it? No, she wouldn’t have phrased it as an incredible opportunity. Or would she? No.
Paolo forced himself to put the call out of his mind. He’d find out what was going on when she came back at the weekend. Until then, he had an investigation to run – two investigations, in fact.
He stood up, put the phone in his pocket, and walked to the general office where his team were already waiting for him. When everyone was settled and paying attention, he outlined the visit he and Dave had made to the hospital the previous evening.
“Sounds like a nasty attack, sir,” CC said. “Do we have any leads at all?”
“Unfortunately not. I’ve put a PC on duty outside the victim’s room, so we should know as soon as he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up,” added Dave.
Paolo nodded. “Yes, as you say. He’s in a coma and may never come out of it. Andrea, is there any CCTV coverage of that part of the canal?”
“I’m not sure, sir. I’ll look into it.”
“Is this going to be our main focus, sir? Or do we still concentrate on the lipstick scandal?” CC asked.
“I’d like to make it our prime concern, but we have nothing to go on at the moment. The victim has no identification and was found in a public place. The torrential rain yesterday will most probably have obliterated any evidence at the scene, but forensics went over there last night, just in case the perpetrator was kind enough to leave us a calling card. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.”
He moved back and perched on the edge of the desk nearest to the board.
“In the meantime, let’s see if we can discover who defaced the plaque and made the accusation about Montague Mason. CC, what did you and Andrea find out?”
She looked down at her notes. “Starting with Clementine Towers – what a nut job she is!”
“CC!”
“Sorry, sir, but it’s true. Apparently, she is at the centre every day, either bringing them more of her books from years gone by, or telling them how to run the place.”
“Who told you that?” Paolo asked.
“She did, sir! We called on her at her home and she went on and on about public morality and depravity in high and low places. According to her it would do the world good to bring back public flogging for minor offences and hanging for anything more serious than shoplifting.”
“So she had the opportunity to put up the lipstick scrawl?”
CC nodded. “She did, but I can’t see her doing it to be honest. She’d be more likely to stand in front of the plaque and make a public declaration. Clementine Towers is as mad as the proverbial hatter, but I can’t see her sneaking in and making an anonymous accusation.”
Remembering Clementine Tower’s visit to his office, Paolo was inclined to agree with CC’s assessment.
“Fair enough. Who was next?”
“From there we went to William Coburn Electrical Contractors and spoke to the man himself. He says he was there on business. Apparently, April Greychurch found a discrepancy in his accounts and he was at the centre sorting it out so that he could get paid.”
Paolo nodded. “And your impression of him?”
“Again, sir, I didn’t feel he was our man.”
“But?” Paolo asked. “I can hear a definite but in your voice.”
“You’re right. There was something about the way he reacted that made me think he had something to hide. I don’t mean the vandalism. Somehow, I can’t see him up for that, but he really wasn’t pleased to see us and acted as if he was being victimised over the account discrepancy. He even accused April of calling us in. Andrea and I got the distinct impression he might have been guilty of some creative accounting in his dealings with the centre and that April had found him out.”
Paolo smiled. “Interesting, but not sure it’s relevant to our investigation. Okay, on to the people Dave and I saw. Derrick Walden is a bit of a fanatic about Chelsea and an evangelist about everyone learning to swim and keeping fit. I can’t see him wanting to do anything that might cause problems for his hero.”
“Hero? Mason?” CC laughed. “I wouldn’t put him in that category, but it takes all sorts.”
Paolo grinned. “He thinks the ground Mason walks on should be venerated because he gave him the swimming coach’s job. He’s also not a fan of April Greychurch, so that makes two of our interviewees.”
Paolo ticked Derrick’s name on the board. “He had the opportunity to deface the plaque, but no motive. On the other hand, if April did lose her lipstick, as she claims, Derrick might have picked it up and scrawled on the plaque to drop her in it, not expecting it to remain undiscovered until the unveiling.”
CC nodded. “I’ll tell you something odd; Clementine Towers loathes the sight of Derrick Walden.”
Paolo turned back to face CC. “Really? Did she say why?”
“Towers says Walden doesn’t stick to his place in the pool area. She says she always finds him in places where he has no right to be, completely oblivious to the fact that as an employee he probably has more right to go wherever he chooses than she does as a volunteer.”
“Maybe I should have asked Walden what he thought about Miss Towers, but I can imagine.” He told the team about Clementine Towers assertion that Derrick shouldn’t be teaching girls to swim. “Strict segregation for males and females is the way she feels it should be done.”
CC laughed. “I told you, she’s a fruit loop who should be locked away for her own good.”
“Okay, everyone, Dave and I are going to pay a second visit to the Triple B club to see if we can sniff out any nasty doings that might be connected to the poor soul in the hospital. CC, if financial crimes come up with anything, tell them I’ll return the call when I get back.”
He looked over to Dave, expecting him to be already reaching for his jacket, but Dave was engrossed in reading something.
“Dave!” Paolo said, raising his voice, but even that failed to draw his attention.
Paolo walked the few steps to Dave’s desk. “Did you not hear me? We’re going back to the club.”
Dave jumped up, stuffing the piece of paper into his pocket, but didn’t explain what was so engrossing he hadn’t been listening to the report from CC on her visits. By the look on his face, Paolo didn’t think whatever it was had been pleasant to read.
Paolo waited until Dave had negotiated the traffic before raising the matter again.
“Bad news, Dave?”
“No, sir, what makes you think that?”
“I just wondered what was on the paper you were reading that upset you in there.”
Dave sighed. “I wasn’t upset, as such, just a bit pissed off.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper, passing it to Paolo.
“How to succeed in today’s force. Step one, have a relative at the top. Step two, make DS without trying. Step three, repeat steps one and two until maximum rank achieved. Nasty,” Paolo said. “Where did you get this?”
“It was on my desk when I got in today.”
“Any ideas who the culprit might be?”
Dave shook his head. “Not really. It’s probably Jack Cummings, but it could be any of them. That’s what makes me sick. No one has the guts to stand in front of me and spout that stuff to my face, but leaving it for me to find, that’s okay. Fucking cowards.”
“I’d be willing to put money on it not being CC, if that’s any consolation.”
Dave smiled. “One thing’s for sure, if CC had something to say she wouldn’t do it anonymously. She’d spit it out for all to hear and damn the consequences.”
Paolo folded the piece of paper. “Mind if I keep this?” he asked.
“Be my guest, but why do you want it?”
“No reas
on in particular, just a feeling I should hang on to it for you.”
The SatNav letting them know they’d arrived at their destination broke the pensive mood in the car, but Paolo made a silent vow to find out which idiot was tormenting Dave. As before, the car park bore testament to the high net worth of the club membership. Bentleys, Jaguars, even a Porsche and a Ferrari filled some of the bays, with a lone Ford Capri standing out like a beggar at a Hunt Ball. Paolo assumed it belonged to George Baron’s secretary. Whoever owned it, Paolo was amazed to see Baron allowed it to be parked in the club members’ private parking area.
For the second time in two days, they approached the grand building. This time the doors swung open before they reached them. Chaz stood at the top of the steps looking very like an immoveable object. Paolo smiled to himself. Chaz was about to meet an unstoppable force. It would be interesting to see which of them gave way. Without a warrant, there was no way they could force their way in, but Paolo was determined to get inside one way or another.
“Hello, you might remember us from yesterday. Is Mr Baron around?”
“Have you got an appointment? Mr Baron didn’t mention it.”
Paolo smiled. “No, not this time, but if you call Mr Baron, I’m sure he’ll agree to see us for a few minutes.”
“What about?” Chaz demanded.
Paolo kept the smile fixed in place. “That’s between us and Mr Baron. Let him know we’re here. He won’t thank you for keeping us on the doorstep like this.”
Chaz looked them over, then turned on his heels and shut the doors.
“Do you think that means he’s gone to confer with his boss, sir?”
“I have no idea. Possibly. We’ll give him a minute or two, then start hammering on the doors. I’m sure Baron won’t want the members inside disturbed during their tête-à-têtes.”
In the end, it was less than a minute before the doors opened again. Chaz came out, carefully shutting the doors behind him.
“Mr Baron is in conference at the moment. He says if you could come back in a couple of hours, he’ll make time for you.”
Paolo got the distinct impression Chaz was uncomfortable about something. He decided to probe a bit to see if he could find out what it was that was making him sweat.
“No, I don’t think we can do that. How about if we come in and wait? We could sit in that nice comfortable lounge area. We promise not to talk to anyone.”
Chaz looked even more uneasy. “I’ll, er, I’ll just go and see if Mr Baron can make time for you now.”
Once again, he turned around and went inside.
Dave laughed. “What on earth is that all about?”
Paolo shrugged. “Beats me. I think we might have interrupted something they don’t want us to see.”
“You think it might be the type of activities Doctor Brownlow alluded to?” Dave asked.
Before Paolo could answer, the door opened and George Baron came down the steps, looking flustered and not at all pleased at being disturbed.
“Look, this is harassment. I answered your questions yesterday and certainly didn’t have anything to do with the stupid bloody goings on at the opening ceremony.”
Paolo stepped forward. “We’re not here about that. We’re here on another matter altogether. I was hoping to have a quiet word with you inside about what goes on in your club. I’ve been hearing some strange rumours,” he said, noticing a car pulling into the car park. “However, if you like, I can ask questions out here in the open. Is that one of your members who’s just arrived? Maybe he would like to join us.”
George opened his mouth, closed it again and shuffled on the spot. Paolo wondered what on earth was going on inside that made him so determined to keep them out.
The new arrival parked a few cars along from where they were standing. As the car door opened and a man’s head appeared, Paolo saw George give a tiny shake of his head. The head dropped from sight and, within seconds, he heard the sound of the car’s engine revving and gravel spraying as the car reversed out of the bay and drove off.
“Have we interrupted something? Your member seems in a terrible rush to get away considering he’d only just got here.”
The look George gave him was pure venom. “No, you haven’t interrupted anything. What you have done is cause one of my bloody members to leave.”
“Why?” Paolo asked. “Why would he leave just because we’re standing here having a friendly chat?”
“Come off it, your attitude says this isn’t a friendly chat. You must think I’m daft. You’ve come here with an agenda. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to know. We promise complete privacy for our members. They know they can come here and only other members will know who they are. With you two blocking the entrance, it was impossible for that member to enter without being seen. Let’s get this over with. What do you want to know?”
“Are all your members so shy? What have they got to hide?” Paolo asked.
George laughed. “Are you really that naïve? They aren’t shy and don’t have anything to hide, but more business gets done in social clubs such as these than takes place in boardrooms.”
“You mean insider trading?” Dave asked.
“What? No! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He turned to Paolo. “I’ll ask again. What do you want?”
Paolo was about to frame his question when the doors to the club opened and Chaz looked out. The look of relief on George’s face confirmed Paolo’s suspicion. The club wasn’t just a place for businessmen to have a chat and a pint.
“Let’s go inside and discuss whatever it is like civilised people, shall we?” Paolo suggested.
George turned on his heel and sped up the steps. His jerky movements reminded Paolo of a mechanical hare he’d once seen set off for greyhounds to chase around a track. As they followed George into the club, Paolo tried to guess what had been going on inside.
He had a good look round when he reached the lobby, but there was no evidence of anything out of place. In fact, the only odd thing was the absence of sound. The last time they’d been in the club, there had been a faint murmuring of voices. This time there was absolute silence, which was strange considering the number of cars outside.
“Where is everyone today?” he asked, more to see George and Chaz’s reaction than because he wanted to know, but the result was interesting.
Chaz looked down and shuffled his feet, as if he’d rather be anywhere than here. George avoided the question completely.
“Let’s go through to my office, shall we?” he said. “Chaz, I know you’ve got things to do.”
Remarkable, Paolo thought. It was amazing how often crimes were solved by no more than stumbling onto something by being in the right place at the right time. Even if the hospital victim had no connection to the club, it was clear activities were going on here they didn’t want the police to know about, which meant, in Paolo’s eyes, they were goings-on he should know about.
They followed George through Trudy Chappell’s office and into his. George ignored his secretary, but Paolo paused to say hello. He was amused to see there was no offer of coffee today. George stood next to his office door and shut it behind them once they were in. He gestured to the chairs they’d sat in on their earlier visit.
“Take a seat. Now, what’s this all about? You said it had nothing to do with that stupid business at the youth centre, so why are you here?”
He walked round his desk and sat down. Paolo noticed the man had regained his normal colour and demeanour, so decided to throw out a few random questions to see what reaction he got.
“Why were you so determined to keep us outside until Chaz gave the signal to say it was okay to let us in?”
Once again, the colour left George’s face. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told you, our members are guaranteed privacy. I simply wanted to give Chaz time to let them know we would be having visitors. Again,” he added, with emphasis on the word.
Paolo nodded to Dave, who took a photograph fro
m his inside pocket and slid it across the desk.
“Do you know this man? Is he one of your members?” Paolo asked.
George picked up the photo and glanced at it.
“No to both questions. Who is he? He looks in a bad way with all those tubes and things.”
Paolo nodded. “He’s in a coma. We’re trying to find out who he is.”
George tossed the photo back towards Dave. “Why on earth do you think I would know him?”
“Because of the type of sexual injuries he sustained during an attack. There’s a rumour going round that your members like to engage in similar activities, so I wondered if this man had been a participant and things had got a little out of hand.”
Paolo hadn’t thought it was possible for George to lose more colour, but he did. His face was now almost as pale as his shirt.
“What are you on about? I told you, this is a businessmen’s club. Who told you otherwise? I’ll sue them. There’s nothing goes on upstairs of that nature.”
“Who said anything about upstairs?”
“What? You did.”
Paolo smiled. “No, I didn’t mention any area in particular. I simply said there was a rumour going round. So, tell me, what does go on upstairs? Any chance we could go up now and have a look round?”
George stood up. “You can look upstairs with my blessing. All you need to do is come back with a warrant. I told you yesterday, we have private bedrooms up there for our members. There is no way I’m letting you lot loose in this club without a warrant and, as we haven’t broken any laws, or given you reason to suspect we might have done, there’s no way you’d get one. Now, if that’s all, I’d like you to go about your business and let me get on with mine.”
He walked over to the door and opened it. “Trudy, please show these gentlemen out the back way. I think our members have been inconvenienced enough for today.”
“Yes, Mr Baron,” she said. “This way, please.”
Instead of going back into the lobby, she opened the door in the wall behind her desk.
Paolo raised his eyebrows. “Servants’ exit for us, Dave.”
Trudy led them along a dingy corridor, completely at odds with the opulence of the main part of the building. They reached a small hallway with several doors leading off.
Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 7
