Deadlock

by Graham Ison

  The three of us spent the next hour poking around in the apartment, but nothing of any importance came to light in terms of pointing to Danique Vandenberg’s killer. The fact that she was a prostitute made life much more difficult. It could have been any one of her clients, and God knows how many there were of those. The common factor was the likelihood of the murderer being the same in each case, and that might make life easier.

  Dave’s phone rang, and he was forced to go outside again to take the call. ‘You’re not going to believe this, guv,’ he said when he returned. ‘Lars Vandenberg is the owner of a licensed brothel in Apeldoorn.’

  ‘A licensed brothel?’

  ‘Apparently prostitution is allowed in the Netherlands, guv, provided it’s properly run and licensed. According to the Apeldoorn police this establishment is called …’ Dave paused to examine the note he’d made, ‘… it’s called Het Passie Huis, which translates as The Passion House.’

  ‘And the Vandenbergs have returned to Apeldoorn,’ I said. ‘Not that I think Lars Vandenberg would have admitted employing his own daughter. If he did.’

  ‘She probably saw it as paying better than nursing,’ said Dave.

  ‘I doubt if she ever was a nurse,’ I said. ‘I can’t imagine that even a licensed brothel owner would admit that his daughter was a prostitute.’

  ‘I’ll bet he did employ her,’ said Dave. ‘In my book, he’s a two-timing, lying bastard.’

  ‘There were the usual bank and credit card statements, with one or two large unexplained deposits to her bank,’ said Nicola, ‘but I don’t think we have to look very far for a reason now we know what she was up to.’

  ‘Back to the office, then,’ I said. ‘I doubt we’ll gather anything else of interest here.’

  I spent the rest of Saturday immersed in paperwork, but deciding it was high time that I took Lydia out for a meal, I picked up the phone and tapped out her number.

  ‘Why don’t I come over and cook for you, darling?’ said Lydia.

  ‘I thought that a meal out would be a change for you,’ I said.

  ‘I’d rather we had dinner at your place.’ She paused. ‘Or mine. You could have a dip in my heated swimming pool.’

  ‘Much as I’d love to come to Esher, Lydia, I’d rather stay closer to Richmond.’ Reluctantly, I explained the reason.

  ‘I quite understand, Harry. Another time perhaps. I could come to your place.’

  ‘I hope you don’t get fed up with me always rushing off on some job.’ I couldn’t understand her acceptance of my uncertain lifestyle, and the frequent cancellations of social engagements because of it.

  ‘It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, Harry darling. What time would suit you?’

  ‘About eight? Or is that too late?’

  ‘That’ll be fine,’ said Lydia. ‘I’ll see you then, darling.’

  At about three o’clock I was preparing to leave the office when Dave came in.

  ‘There’s a PC outside, sir. He was the one who picked up Heather Douglas the night she was abducted. He was the guy who made some smart remark.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I remember, Dave. Bring him in.’

  I knew his sort the moment he stepped into my office. Swaggering and full of himself.

  ‘I understand you want to see me, sir,’ said the PC.

  ‘I’m told that you were the officer who found Miss Heather Douglas in a distressed state in Richmond Road, Kingston, on Wednesday the nineteenth of this month. Am I right?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The PC was now looking a little twitchy, and probably wondering what was coming next.

  ‘Sergeant Poole, perhaps you would read the appropriate part of Miss Douglas’s statement.’

  ‘Yes, sir. “I was limping along the road when a police car turned up. I think they thought I was drunk, but I told them what had happened. Even so, one of the policemen suggested that I was letting my imagination run away with me”.’ Dave put the statement on my desk and sat back.

  ‘Have you any comment to make about that?’ I asked the PC.

  ‘Well, sir, we get a lot of drunks about that time of night, even on a Wednesday, and I thought she might’ve been one of them.’

  ‘I see. Turning to the matter of this young lady’s injured knee – did you offer her medical assistance?’

  ‘I didn’t know she’d hurt her knee, sir.’

  ‘Did you bother to ask if she was injured?’

  ‘Well, I, er …’

  ‘This young woman had just been the victim of an abduction, Constable,’ I said. ‘A serious crime that can attract a sentence of life imprisonment. I think your conduct was far from professional, if not cavalier, and I shall refer this entire matter to your chief superintendent. That’s all.’

  A much-chastened PC left my office, but I cannot abide sloppy police work, particularly when dealing with a matter as serious as an abduction.

  I got home at around seven o’clock that evening. It had been a day or two since Gladys Gurney had been in and put everything to rights. But since then I’d managed to do a lot of untidying that had to be rectified before Lydia arrived.

  At twenty minutes past seven my mobile played its ominous little tune, the one that told me when the incident room was calling.

  ‘Yeah, Brock.’

  ‘It’s Don Keegan, guv’nor,’ said the night-duty sergeant. Keegan was the man who occasionally stood in either for Gavin Creasey or Colin Wilberforce, the regular incident room managers.

  ‘What is it, Don?’

  ‘There’s been a sighting of the man who attempted to abduct Heather Douglas, guv.’

  ‘Tell me more.’

  ‘She decided to go to the Talavera wine bar this evening to celebrate her freedom from us and one of her housemates, a girl called Olivia Dee, went with her. She’s an air hostess, apparently.’

  ‘Yes, I know all that, Don. Cut to the chase, there’s a good chap.’

  ‘She saw this guy in the wine bar, guv. She was absolutely certain it was the man who tried to kidnap her last Wednesday. Fortunately, he didn’t see her, so she and Miss Dee beat a hasty retreat to the street and called me. I alerted the local nick, gave them the SP and asked them to send a car. Silent approach, of course.’

  ‘And by the time they got there, the bird had flown.’

  ‘How did you know that, guv?’

  ‘Because I’ve been at this game for a long time, Don, and that’s what always happens. Where’s Miss Douglas now?’

  ‘She went home, and I’ve sent Tom Challis and Liz Carpenter down there to babysit.’

  I debated cancelling my evening with Lydia, but decided that there was very little I could do apart from interfere in a situation that a couple of sergeants could deal with quite capably.

  ‘Get in touch with Tom Challis or Liz Carpenter, Don, and ask one of them to get as full a description as possible, as quickly as possible, circulate it around the team and put it on the PNC. You never know, someone might pull a name out of their memory. But Heather must be talked into not going out without a police escort until we’ve captured this guy.’

  Lydia arrived on the stroke of eight, carrying a bag that doubtless contained this evening’s dinner. I immediately offered to pay, but just as quickly she refused.

  ‘This doesn’t seem right, somehow, Lydia,’ I said. ‘I started by inviting you out to dinner and you finish up paying for it.’

  ‘You can make it up to me when you’ve got some guaranteed time off,’ said Lydia. ‘In the meantime, I must get the dinner under way.’

  Needless to say, Lydia produced a magnificent meal, and afterwards we relaxed with a brandy.

  ‘I suppose you’re allowed to take a holiday occasionally, are you?’ Lydia asked suddenly.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I was thinking of taking a few days off once this present case is wrapped up,’ I said. ‘Why d’you ask?’

  ‘Perhaps we could have a holiday together somewhere,’ suggested Lydia hesitantly.

  I had a
feeling that my idea of a holiday, limited as it was by income, would be somewhat different from that usually enjoyed by Lydia. I could imagine that she and her late husband had enjoyed lengthy vacations in some exotic, sun-drenched paradise. And I’m not talking about a package holiday on the Costa Brava either. But I was in no position to offer an opinion. Shortly after my marriage to Helga, when I was a constable, she and I had spent a week in Brighton with our young son Robert. But I’d not been on holiday since then. The boy’s death was the start of the breakdown between Helga and me, and our life never seemed quite the same after he was drowned.

  ‘A cruise?’ I suggested impishly, knowing Lydia’s dislike of boats, but I was surprised.

  ‘Sounds a wonderful idea. As long as it’s not a very small boat where you’re the captain and I’m your first mate,’ said Lydia, and laughed.

  ‘Sailing’s not my scene,’ I said, ‘but aren’t you averse to flying?’

  Lydia pouted. ‘I’d prefer not to. It’s not a fear of flying, but I absolutely hate crowded airports and the inevitable delays. The idea of a cruise with nothing to do but laze around sounds like a very good idea.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said, wishing I hadn’t got into this discussion. ‘It wouldn’t be like one of those films where the detective on a cruise gets called in by the captain to solve the murder of a passenger. That’s pure fiction.’

  Lydia stayed the night, and although I was tempted to go into the office, I decided against it. Kate Ebdon was the duty inspector and I knew that she would get in touch with me if anything arose that needed my attention. Furthermore, I knew that the Talavera wine bar was closed on Sunday evenings.

  Consequently, Lydia and I lazed around on Sunday morning, reading newspapers. She produced a cold lunch and eventually went home at about four o’clock, having failed to persuade me to go with her to Esher to try out her swimming pool.

  She didn’t mention a holiday again, for which I was grateful. I’m not really a holiday sort of person.

  SIXTEEN

  On the Monday morning, I held a briefing in the incident room. The murder of Rachel Steele, two weeks ago, had been the start of this inquiry, and since then most members of the team had become familiar with the Talavera wine bar in Richmond. It was there that Heather Douglas was convinced she had seen her attacker.

  ‘We have a description of the man who abducted Heather,’ I began, pointing to the whiteboard that I had insisted should be installed. My theory was that officers visiting the incident room were more likely to look at the latest information posted on it than to ask Colin Wilberforce, a computer-orientated officer if ever there was one, what was new. Wilberforce had afforded me a frown of disapproval. ‘But,’ I continued, ‘as was to be expected, that description fits quite a few of the men who are known to frequent the Talavera.’ I had considered asking Heather to return to the wine bar in the company of two of our officers, but decided against it. If our suspect caught sight of Heather, he’d likely turn and run.

  ‘Do we set up an observation on the wine bar to try and catch this alleged abductor, guv?’ asked DC Ray Furness.

  ‘I don’t think we can continue to call him an alleged abductor, Ray,’ I said. ‘In my view, he became an abductor the moment he deviated from the route between the health club and Richmond. But that apart, I can’t see what good an observation would be if Heather wasn’t with the obo team all the time.’ I paused and looked around the crowded incident room. ‘And if any of you lecherous male coppers think you’re going to spend a few hours in the back of an obo van with the gorgeous Heather Douglas, forget it.’ And that, as I expected, produced a laugh.

  ‘Can I put my two penn’orth in, guv?’ asked DI Brad Naylor.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Brad?’ I asked.

  ‘D’you think we could persuade Heather Douglas to change her appearance so that she wouldn’t be recognized by the guy who kidnapped her? Then we could put her into the Talavera with one of our blokes, one who’s not been there before, and if our friendly neighbourhood abductor turns up we could have a team standing by waiting to house him.’

  I glanced across at Kate Ebdon. ‘Kate, you’re a woman—’ I began.

  ‘Oh, you’ve noticed, guv,’ said Kate.

  ‘Yeah, all right, all right.’ Once the laughter had subsided, I continued. ‘D’you think you could persuade Heather to go along with Brad’s idea? Particularly if we explained that we might catch a multiple killer.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ asked Kate. ‘It might frighten her to the extent that she refuses to take part.’

  ‘I think it’s only fair to tell her the whole story.’ Since thinking over my original reason for not telling her or her housemates, I’d changed my mind.

  ‘She’s made of sterner stuff than we seem to be giving her credit for, guv,’ said Tom Challis, a comment that rather surprised me. I think it also surprised Challis that he’d mentioned it.

  ‘I reckon I could alter her appearance so that even her own mother wouldn’t recognize her,’ said Kate. ‘It’s worth giving it a shot, anyway. I’ll catch her this evening when she gets in from work.’

  ‘Hello, Inspector.’ Heather Douglas was clearly surprised to see Kate Ebdon seated in an armchair in the sitting room that she shared with the other girls in the house. DS Challis was reclining in another chair, talking to Sarah Newman, the nurse. ‘What brings you here? Have you caught him?’

  ‘No, Heather, but we hope to arrest him with your assistance. If you’re willing to help, that is.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’d better tell you the whole story before you agree.’ Kate Ebdon knew that what she was about to tell Heather Douglas might scare her to the extent that she refused to take part in the plan that Brad Naylor had put forward. But, as we’d discussed at the conference that morning, she was duty-bound to explain about everything that had happened so far. ‘We have reason to believe that the man who abducted you last Wednesday is someone we want to talk to about four murders.’

  ‘Gosh! You mean the murders that have been in all the papers?’ Heather tried to make light of that uncompromising statement, and that she might have been murdered by the man who abducted her. She folded her arms and gripped her upper arms tightly with her hands. Kate knew from that classic body language that Heather was terrified at the prospect of helping the police to find this man, but after a second or two of obvious introspection, she made a decision. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said, unfolding her arms. The grim determination was quite apparent on her face. ‘After all, it might save another girl from going through the ordeal I suffered.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Or even getting murdered.’

  Tom Challis smiled. He’d said Heather was made of sterner stuff.

  ‘Good girl,’ said Kate, and turned to the practicalities of the plan. ‘The first thing for you to do is to dye your hair blonde.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ It seemed that Heather found this proposition more alarming than setting out to find a murderer.

  ‘Why not? It’ll look great,’ said Olivia Dee, the air hostess who was Heather’s fellow resident. ‘It’s time you had a change anyway.’

  ‘All right,’ said Heather reluctantly, ‘but I’m not cutting it.’

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ said Kate. ‘Put your hair up instead of wearing it long as you do now. I’m sure Olivia will give you a hand.’ Kate had noticed the first time she’d met her that the long-haired Olivia had been wearing her hair in a French roll. And that was probably how she wore it when she was on duty.

  ‘Sure. It’ll look great,’ said Olivia again.

  ‘There you are, then,’ said Kate. ‘A different outfit, and you’ll look like another woman. The plan is that you’ll go to the Talavera every night with Tom Challis. We’re just hoping that our man is an habitué, and that you identify him. A team of officers led by a detective inspector will be right outside the wine bar. They’ll wait until the suspect leaves and they’ll follow him to his house. The rest is down to us.’

>   ‘Sounds easy,’ said Heather.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ said Kate. ‘I’ve known even the easiest of operations go wrong.’ She didn’t immediately realize that what she’d said might alarm Heather.

  ‘Whatever else happens, I can assure you that you won’t be in any danger,’ said Challis, having registered the brief frisson of concern on the girl’s face.

  ‘That’s right,’ added Kate hurriedly. ‘What Tom says is dinkum. You won’t be in any danger at all.’

  ‘When d’you want me to start, Inspector?’ asked Heather.

  ‘Can you get your hair dyed by tomorrow, and get some suitable alternative clothing?’

  Heather looked doubtful, but Olivia Dee said, ‘Don’t worry about that. We’ll get her ready so that even you won’t recognize her.’

  ‘In the meantime, I’ll arrange to have your house guard put back on. Although you said that the suspect didn’t recognize you, you can’t be sure. Tom will stay here until the reinforcements arrive, and then he’ll pick you up tomorrow.’

  Challis followed Kate out to the street. ‘That was a bloody silly thing to say to Heather about this sort of operation sometimes going wrong. You scared the daylights out of her.’

  Kate bridled at Challis’s attitude. ‘I’d remind you you’re talking to an inspector, Sergeant.’

  ‘OK, so you scared the daylights out of her, ma’am,’ said Challis, emphasizing the honorific.

  ‘Sorry, Tom. I’m a bit tired.’

  ‘Aren’t we all, ma’am.’ Going back into the house, Challis slammed the door, leaving Kate on the pavement swearing to herself for having lost her temper unnecessarily with a trusted colleague.

  Detective Sergeant Tom Challis arrived at Heather Douglas’s house at seven thirty the next evening. Steve Harvey and Nicola Chance were already there, having relieved the day shift an hour and a half previously.

  ‘If we don’t find Heather’s attacker this evening, Nicola,’ said Challis, ‘you and Steve are here for the night.’

  ‘Thanks a bundle, skip,’ said Nicola.