“Only that Brent Harrison picked her up in the same nightclub that Colin Jameson had gone to with Harrison and the rest of his workmates for the stag do.”
***
After CC left, Paolo went back to searching in his mind for the illusive clue, but couldn’t get that feeling of conviction back again. Whatever it was that had been tantalising him, had vanished for the time being. He could only hope it would resurface later.
He turned to the piles of reports and graphs that were now so much part of modern police work, privately wishing the originator of the system a few months in the depths of hell. He put down the piece of paper and smiled as his imagination ran riot. Yes, maybe whoever had decided filling in forms was more important than bodies on the beat could suffer the same fate as that king he’d learned about in history all those years ago. Who was it now? Edward the something or other, died from an intimate connection with a red hot poker.
His head snapped up. There it was again. Something on the outer edges of his mind screaming at him. He sat back to allow himself to relax and let the memory surface.
His door flew open and Jack came in.
“Sir, you’ve got to hear this. That batty woman from the youth centre’s dead. She was pushed under a bus!”
Paolo’s eyes opened. “When?”
“This morning, sir. Report’s just come in. Several people who were waiting at the traffic lights say she was standing waiting for the lights to change when she suddenly went flying forwards.”
“She couldn’t have tripped?”
“Witnesses say no, sir. Unfortunately, they all say something different about what actually happened. No one claims to have seen the person who pushed her, but they are all adamant that she was pushed. One second standing still, the next right into the path of an oncoming bus. The driver says the same thing.”
“How did you get to hear about it?”
“It came up as a standard report for us to look into, but I recognised her name, so thought I’d better tell you. She did try to speak to you yesterday, if you remember, sir. Once on the way in to the youth centre and once on the way out. I wondered if she was killed because of what she’d been trying to say.”
Paolo studied Jack’s face. He looked innocent enough, but his words seemed to carry the edge of a threat in the way he’d phrased them.
“You could be right, Jack. In which case, I might have missed hearing something important. On the other hand, it could have been an accident.”
Yeah, right, Paolo thought. I stand more chance of being next in line to be the pope than that being true. It’s connected, I know it is. Just because I don’t like the messenger, doesn’t mean the message is a lie.
“You did tell her to call the station, sir. Maybe she did.”
Paolo nodded and stood up. “Let’s hope so,” he said, “but there’s only one way to find out.”
He followed Jack back into the main office, wishing he didn’t find everything about the man unlikeable. Why couldn’t someone else have received the report? Then he wouldn’t have had to put up with the veiled insinuation that he’d missed an opportunity. On the other hand, if the report had landed on one of the other desks, would the recipient have known its value? It was only because Jack had been with him yesterday that he’d recognised the name.
You screwed up, Paolo. Accept the fact and move on.
He called for attention and told his team about the report Jack had been given.
“Clementine Towers tried to tell me something yesterday,” he began, then caught Jack’s eye. “In fact, she tried twice to give me information, but I didn’t stop to listen. It now appears that she may have been deliberately pushed into the path of a bus and died on impact.”
He sighed. “I didn’t take her seriously because of our past interactions where, quite frankly, she came across as more that a bit unhinged. That’s not an excuse, by the way, I’m just stating the reasons I didn’t listen to her. I was wrong not to do so. This is twice now that someone has wanted to tell us something but they have been murdered before they were able to get the information to us. In my mind that connects Derrick Walden’s death with Clementine Towers.”
The intent look on Jack’s face made Paolo follow his line of vision. He was staring directly at Dave, but why? Jack’s next words gave him the answer.
“But you did tell her to call the station, sir. Maybe someone here took the call and can tell us whatever it was she wanted to say.”
Paolo watched Dave’s face. The colour fled from it and then surged back.
“Yes, sir,” Dave said. “I took the call.”
Paolo looked back at Jack just in time to see him pass a look of triumph across to the officer whose desk was next to Dave’s. Of course, now it made sense. Jack had few friends in the office, but the man smirking back at him was one of them. Jack must have already known Dave had taken a call from Clementine Towers before he’d come in to report her suspicious death. What else did he know? Paolo guessed whatever it was, wasn’t going to put Dave in a good light.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Dave said. “I thought it was another of her weird calls. She wouldn’t tell me anything at first, just kept saying she needed to speak to someone in a higher position to me.”
“Should have said you’d put her through to your uncle,” Jack said.
Paolo spun round. “That’s enough, Jack. Comments like that help no one, least of all yourself. Carry on, Dave. Did you get anything from Miss Towers?”
Dave shook his head. “Very little, sir. She was rambling on about evil walking around and the bad people hidden in good places making the world ungodly. You know what she’s like when she gets going, sir. She did say she’d been following various people and now she knew things that would give us nightmares if we knew them, too. Went off on one about licentious people hiding behind innocent disguises.”
Paolo sighed. He could imagine exactly how that conversation had gone. If he’d taken the call, he’d have switched off mentally after a few seconds and left Clementine Towers to rant without actually listening to a word she said.
“Relax, Dave. I know what she’s like when she gets going. I don’t think there’s anyone here who would have acted differently if they’d taken the call.”
As he said this, Paolo looked pointedly in Jack’s direction, but he was staring down at his desk. Paolo hoped it was because he was too embarrassed to look up, but had a horrible suspicion it was more likely because he was hiding the delight he felt in Dave’s discomfort. He’d have to get Jack transferred to another branch. He was too disruptive and worked against the team morale Paolo had worked hard to build over the past few years.
“As I said, I dismissed her as someone not to be taken seriously, but I did scribble down a few notes while she was on the phone. I’ll go back over them,” Dave said. “Maybe there’s something in there that’s worth following up on.”
Paolo heard a noise that could easily be mistaken for a cough if he hadn’t known it came from Jack whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Paolo looked back at Dave. His face showed how humiliated he felt.
***
Paolo went back to his office determined to put a stop to Jack’s constant sniping. While rummaging in his drawer for a transfer request form, he remembered that niggling feeling about a possible clue to do with George Baron’s post mortem. He finally found the forms he needed and cleared a space on his desk so that he could start filling them in. He decided not to call Jack in now. Tomorrow would be better, Paolo decided, after he’d had a good night’s sleep and should be calmer than he was right now.
In the meantime, he could call Barbara and see if there was anything she remembered that might provide that elusive connection he knew was there.
She answered on the first ring. “Paolo, that’s good timing. I was just about to call you.”
“Really? What about?”
She laughed. “No, you go first. I think your reason for calling might be more important than mine.”
/>
“Okay, it’s to do with George Baron’s autopsy, but Derrick Walden’s murder.”
“Not sure I follow you, Paolo. Which PM are you asking about?”
“I’m trying to make sense of it myself, Barbara. There’s a tiny voice at the back of my mind that says something we mentioned during George Baron’s autopsy will tell me something about Derrick Walden’s murderer.”
Barbara went quiet for a while. Paolo didn’t speak, knowing she was thinking, trying to pinpoint what he needed to know.
“Sorry, Paolo, I’ve run through both PMs in my head and can’t find a similarity between them.”
“Not to worry, Barbara. I expect it will come to me eventually. What was it you wanted to talk to me about? I got the impression you had something on your mind the last time I was over in your office.”
“Paolo, did I say anything stupid when I came out from the anaesthetic last year?”
He recalled her whispered words of “I love you” as he was leaving her hospital room.
“No, not as far as I can recall. Why do you ask?”
“No real reason,” she said. Paolo could hear the relief in her voice. “I’ve woken a few mornings recently with thoughts in my head that seem to be more memories than proper dreams. It’s a relief to know they must have been dreams after all.”
Paolo could hear the unspoken question. “If you did say anything odd, I must have already left.”
“Phew! Glad I asked,” she said, but her voice sounded a bit shaky.
Did she believe him? Possibly not, but Paolo was quite sure that what he’d said was what she wanted to hear. He put the phone down and thought about the women he’d cared about in recent years.
He really wasn’t at all sure about his feelings for Barbara. They’d met at the wrong time in his life for him to be able to respond in the way she’d needed and he regretted that as much as she did.
Then he’d met Jessica and had been thinking their relationship might prove to be a lasting one. So much for that idea. She’d be leaving soon and tonight was to be their farewell dinner. He was taking her to the Italian restaurant where their love story had first blossomed.
And then there was Lydia. His first love and, for many years, the only woman he’d ever wanted to be with. He thought back to the kiss that Katy had interrupted. He’d not been able to speak to Lydia since then. He had to face the fact that she’d been avoiding him. That was only to be expected, he supposed, but would still have liked to clear the air with her.
***
Paolo knocked on Jessica’s door, wishing things were different. He was going to miss her after tonight, but knew she had to follow her dream. The opportunity offered to her was too brilliant to turn down.
The door opened and Jessica stood there looking amazing in a fitted silver grey dress.
“Why didn’t you use your key?” she asked.
He held it out. “Symbolism, Jess. It didn’t feel right using the key when…well… Anyway, I wanted to hand it over to you here, not make a big deal of it inside.”
He was surprised to feel a lump in his throat the size of a mountain and wondered how he was supposed to get through the evening without swallowing. He followed her into the flat he’d come to know as well as his own.
“Take a seat,” she said. “I’ve just got to change my shoes and I’ll be ready.”
As she said the words, Paolo’s phone rang. Praying it wasn’t work, he answered without looking to see who was calling.
“Storey.”
Jessica had stopped midway to the door and looked back with an enquiring look, as if to ask if their last evening together was about to be ruined.
“I know who I called,” Lydia said. “Paolo, we need to talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next morning Paolo got to the office early by virtue of hardly having slept the night before. Jessica’s face, when she’d realised who was on the phone, had displayed a coldness only matched by the ice in Lydia’s voice when he’d had to tell her it wasn’t a good time to talk.
The net result had been a disaster all round. Lydia had ended the call with a terse word of farewell that had sounded more like drop dead than cheerio. Jessica had gone out of her way to show how little it bothered her that Paolo was receiving that sort of call from his ex-wife. Her determination to avoid talking about why Lydia had phoned meant the subject was sitting right there between them for the entire evening.
Four times he’d tried to clear the air and four times Jessica had insisted no explanation was necessary. After all, as she kept pointing out, he was now a free agent! The quick peck on the cheek at the end of the evening put the seal on a night Paolo hoped never to repeat.
Realising he’d been sitting at his desk for nearly an hour without so much as opening a file, Paolo pulled the nearest one across the desk and set to work. He was vaguely aware of a phone ringing in the main office, but the sound gradually forced its way into his conscious mind. It rang and rang, then just as he was about to get up and go and answer it, the ringing stopped. A few minutes later, the persistent noise started up again, ringing only a few times before silence descended again. When the sound intruded again, five minutes later, Paolo knew he’d have to answer it or he’d never be able to concentrate on what he was doing.
He strode through to the main office to find out whose phone it was. The place was deserted, but he could hear voices on the other side of the main doors, so knew his team would be bursting through at any moment.
The offending phone was on Dave’s desk. He lifted the receiver.
“Storey.”
“Paolo, thank goodness,” Rebecca said. “I thought I’d never get an answer. I’ve been trying to reach Dave. Is he there?”
“I think he might be about to walk in now. Hang on a sec, Rebecca.”
Paolo looked over towards the entrance as people began filing in. Jack, Andrea, CC, several uniformed officers, but no Dave.
“He’s not arrived yet. Was he late leaving home this morning?”
“He didn’t come home last night,” she said. “I thought he might have gone straight to the office this morning. We’re supposed to be meeting the wedding planner with my mother in an hour’s time. She’ll go ballistic if we’re late.”
Paolo looked again towards the door, willing Dave to walk through. He became aware of Rebecca’s voice.
“He rang and said he’d be back in time for dinner last night,” she said, “but he never showed up. Were you two on stake out?”
“No. Did he tell you where he was going?”
“Just that he’d found something in his notes that he needed to follow up on. Are you saying he wasn’t with you?” she asked.
Paolo continued staring at the door, even though he knew in his gut, Dave wasn’t going to show.
“Have you tried his mobile?”
Rebecca sighed. “I’ve been ringing it on and off since last night. It goes straight to voicemail. Paolo, you sound worried. What’s going on?”
He knew he had to appear unconcerned but wasn’t sure he could pull it off.
“I’m not worried, Rebecca, but he didn’t tell me where he was going. Let me ask around the team. I’m sure he’ll have discussed his intentions with someone here. I’ll call you back. Okay?”
He put the phone down and called for attention.
“Listen up, everyone. Did Dave tell any of you what his plans were when he left here yesterday? His fiancé has been on the phone this morning. Dave didn’t make it home last night.”
He saw Jack lean over and whisper something to his neighbour, causing the man to snort with suppressed laughter. Before Paolo could lay into either of them, CC distracted him.
“Yes, sir. He told me he’d found something in his notes to do with Clementine Towers call. He was going to check it out on the way home.”
“He didn’t say what it was?”
She shook her head. “Nope, just that it…” She stopped and looked around. “Can we go into your off
ice?”
Paolo nodded and led the way. CC followed him in and shut the door behind her.
“I didn’t want to say this out there and give that idiot the satisfaction of knowing his words were having an effect on Dave,” she said.
Paolo didn’t need to ask who the idiot in question was. He glanced at the transfer forms on his desk. It was definitely time to get rid of the rotten apple ruining his team.
“Didn’t want to say what?” he asked, sitting down and pointing to a chair for CC to do the same.
She slumped onto the seat, looking more distressed than Paolo had ever seen her.
“I don’t tell tales. You know that, sir, don’t you?”
Paolo nodded.
“Well, I’m going to make an exception this time. Jack Cummings has been spreading rumours about Dave’s competence and making sure Dave hears the worst of them. What gets said in the office out there in front of you is just a tiny bit of what Dave puts up with every day.”
Paolo held up the transfer forms. “I’d guessed as much. I’m putting Jack forward for a transfer.”
She smiled. “Good. Dave feels like everything he does is under the spotlight and that he’s not measuring up. He took Clementine Tower’s death hard. I told him he was being daft, but he felt almost as if he was responsible.”
Knowing how he felt about Derrick Walden’s murder, Paolo understood what Dave was going through.
“He said he was going to earn his place,” CC said. “He didn’t know if what he’d found was important, but wasn’t going to take a chance by not following it up.”
“But he didn’t give any indication who he wanted to see or where he was going?”
“No, but I’ll tell you this much, sir, he was planning to be home within an hour. He called Rebecca while we were going down in the lift and that’s what he said to her.”
“CC, go and search through Dave’s desk. He might have written something down to give us an indication of where to start looking. I’m going to put out an all points request on his car. I have a really bad feeling about this.”
Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 23
