‘My wife would not understand.’
‘And you?’
‘I understand. I shouldn’t, though.’
‘Because of your religion?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘It must cause great difficulty between you and your wife.’
‘We are separated.’
‘I am sorry. Because you understand and she does not?’
‘She stays within her society. I have been exposed to the larger world.’
‘And which do you prefer?’
‘As long as people mind their own business and cause no others harm, then I see no reason to condemn or approve.’
‘Let me continue.’ She had moved closer and touched him on the knee. ‘The silent one came close and leant over. He spoke quietly into my ear.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He told me that they had total authority, and if I did not give him some names with contacts immediately, they would personally see that I was revealed as the Madam of a brothel and my husband would have an unfortunate accident.’
‘Who did you think they were?’
‘I thought they were connected with the government.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Their training. It was psychological intimidation. A gangster would have felt the need to be physical.’
‘Why Olivia?’
‘They were clear as to whom they wanted contact details for.’
‘Samantha and Olivia?’
‘They never mentioned Charles Sutherland.’
‘You assume it was related?’ Farhan asked.
‘I don’t know what I thought. I was shaking like a leaf, almost wet myself. It took me hours to calm down afterwards, and I couldn’t tell my husband.’
‘Why not?’
‘I did not want to upset him.’
‘Why did you not give them Samantha’s phone number as well?’
‘I wasn’t sure that I had it. She tends to change her number regularly. Olivia is easier to contact. I knew her number worked.’
‘How?’
‘I had phoned her up earlier in the day, another client.’
‘She was agreeable?’
‘As always. I believe she likes the thrill of it. Is she a different person outside of the business?’
Farhan wasn’t sure how much to say. What if the two men returned? Would she give up any more secrets if pressured? He assumed she would.
His only response to the question posed. ‘She’s a decent person, same as you?’
‘And Samantha? What’s she like?’
‘A decent person.’ He certainly did not want to elaborate.
‘What if they come back? she asked.
‘Difficult question. Do you know any more about Samantha?’
‘Not really. The only number I have for her is an old number, and I always pay her money into an offshore account.’
‘Are you surprised that she changes her phone number regularly?’
‘Not really. I don’t know what her secret is, but she’s very careful. Besides, she told me that she did not want any more clients for a while. I sensed she had met someone and didn’t want to confuse a normal relationship with prostituting herself on the side.
Farhan relaxed back in his chair, blushed almost certainly.
‘If they ask for Olivia again?’ she asked.
‘Her phone number will not answer.’
‘Is she safe?’
‘I hope so.’
‘You’re a good man, you know that.’
‘So I’ve been told, but I’m not so sure. You’ve been threatened. Olivia is hiding, and Samantha is keeping a low profile. Our investigations have placed not only you three at risk, but indirectly brought about the death of two people.’
‘You’re a policeman; you can’t stop doing your job because it may have unfortunate outcomes.’
‘That is true, but it’s a hornet’s nest we’ve stirred up. We’ve no idea how it’s going to end.’
‘You said you were separated from your wife.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘If you need company, let me know. I’ll see that you are treated well. No cost, of course, but a man needs an outlet. No point bottling up the tension.’
Chapter 30
Isaac decided to visit the production lot. He was not sure as to why, apart from the fact that all three persons, two dead and the one missing, had a close involvement with the place.
Until Wendy came up with some fresh information or Detective Superintendent Goddard was more forthcoming as to why Marjorie Frobisher was so important, then the cast and production crew were his best bet. Maybe a snippet of information, a remark made in passing and then a new avenue of enquiry would open up. He hoped he would not make a fool of himself if he ran into Jess, but assumed he probably would.
Larry Hill had taken over the investigation into Sally Jenkins death, or at least, as far as ascertaining who could have murdered her and how that person had got into her apartment. Was the person known? Was Sally Jenkins relaxed when the person mysteriously appeared in her apartment after breaking in? And now, Larry Hill was intimating that maybe the murderer did not come in through the window, only made it look as though he or she did. The gender of the person who had held the hapless former PA under water could have been male or female. There seemed to be no way to clarify.
It was remarkable when Isaac arrived at the production lot as to how busy it was. Everywhere he looked, he saw activity.
He saw why soon enough - Ian Stanley. The series producer with the Napoleon Complex was out on the war path, shouting at this person and that. He saw Isaac soon enough.
‘I hope you’re not going to hold us up today,’ Stanley said brusquely.
‘Not at all. I thought under the circumstances it would have been quiet out here for a few weeks.’
‘Are you joking?’ We’re here to produce thirty minutes’ worth of entertainment, five days a week, and then it’s syndicated to at least two dozen television stations around the world. If we don’t supply, they sue for lost advertising revenue.’
‘But you’ve had two people murdered?’
‘At the end of the day, you’ll find me sympathising.’ Isaac could not see Ian Stanley sympathising over anybody.
‘How was the news of Sally Jenkins received out here?’
‘Look, I don’t wish to be impolite, but I’m busy. Can this discussion wait?’
‘Sure,’ Isaac replied, ‘just interested to know what everyone thought.’
‘A lot of gossip, a few sad faces, but everyone knew she was only working with Richard Williams because she was an easy lay, or at least, an easy lay for someone with money. I made an inappropriate comment once about her screwing the boss, while everyone else was being screwed by him. She was so dumb, she didn’t respond, just laughed. I only hope she was better in the sack than in the office. She was damn useless, always stuffing up everyone’s pay and expenses.
‘That new one, Linda Harris, she’s good. No idea what she sees in Richard, money or no money? I reckon she could find any guy she wanted. She seems too smart for the job, and if she’s screwing Richard Williams, it must be for a reason.’ Isaac noted the comment.
‘Mind you,’ Ian Stanley, his voice raised after bawling out a couple of men hastily erecting a backdrop. ‘I don’t know what Jess O’Neill saw in him either, and she was screwing him.’
‘Is she here?’ Isaac asked, upset by Ian Stanley’s aspersion as to Jess and Richard Williams. He hoped it did not show – it did.
‘You fancy her as well?’ the little man smirked. ‘Can’t say I blame you - if you like Richard’s seconds, that is. You didn’t give Sally Jenkins one as well, did you?’
It was evident to Isaac that the respect accorded him initially by Ian Stanley due to being a ranking police officer had dissipated. Stanley only saw him now as a black man in a suit.
Stanley’s voice had carried. Soon Jess appeared. She gave Stanley a nasty l
ook but said nothing. He only smiled and continued pushing everyone around.
‘Foul-mouthed little man. I can’t stand him.’
‘Jess, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry you heard that.’
‘Give me ten minutes and I’ll be alright. He’s been trying to get me off the set for a few weeks now. Any chance to make a comment or weaken my position, he takes it.’
‘Will he succeed?’
‘It’s hard to say.’
‘Why’s that?
‘He’s good at what he does. Someone mild-mannered, politically correct, wouldn’t have a chance to put this together. You don’t know how much work is involved out here. Most nights I don’t leave before ten at night, and he’s often still working.’
‘You’re looking good, by the way. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. It took me some time to get over that grilling you gave me down at your place of work.’
‘I was just doing my job. Sorry, it brought up unpleasant memories.’
‘I’m okay. My brother-in-law said you were going easy on me. It didn’t feel like it at the time.’
‘What about Sally Jenkins?’ he asked, hopeful that it would be a more sympathetic response than Ian Stanley had offered.
‘I was sad for a day or so, but she only came here a few times. Excited the men whenever she appeared, gave the women something to gossip about.’
‘No other concerns about her death?’
‘Of course, there is! We’re all worried who’s next. Charles Sutherland has been murdered, so has Sally Jenkins. What about Marjorie Frobisher? Do you believe her to be dead?’
‘Jess, I’ve no idea.’ He did not elaborate that the missing woman had been seen a few days earlier.
‘These deaths and Marjorie Frobisher are all related, aren’t they?’ she said. Isaac noticed that as lovely as she looked, she was obviously feeling the strain. Was it Ian Stanley’s innuendoes? Was it a concern that maybe she could be targeted next? Did she know something she was not telling him? he asked himself. He hoped it was not the latter.
‘It seems likely, but so far we’ve drawn a blank. We have ideas as to what the link may be, but it’s vague.’ Isaac felt he had spent long enough with her. He wanted to stay longer, a lot longer, but this was now a murder investigation and the deaths were starting to pile up. Excusing himself - this time, he managed to avoid the kiss - he exited the production lot and headed back to his office.
***
Wendy could see that Bridget had raised more questions than answers. How was she able to follow up on the mysterious person who had met Marjorie Frobisher at the railway station? It seemed an impossible situation. The cameras close by to the station had given some clues, but the cameras weren’t everywhere in the city. The best she could do was to retrace the steps of the missing soap opera star as she had exited the station. Maybe someone had seen something, remembered something. She realised her chances of success were slim, but sometimes, something came out of it.
She had been good at tracking wayward children, conveniently missing from school, or from home in her early years with the police force, by aiming to think as they would. Maybe it could work this time. She wasn’t the sort of person to rush into Isaac Cook - understanding as he may have been - and announce that she hadn’t a clue. No, she was determined, she was going to find this woman, dead or alive, and at the present moment, alive seemed to be a distinct possibility. Whether safe and comfortable in a good hotel, or a decent house, or in a situation of despair, she had no idea.
Isaac and Farhan still continued to follow up on the chain of events since they had been assigned the case. Then it had been a missing woman, but now! Both were struggling with how to proceed.
Also, what about the adopted-out child? Who knew the answer? And, then there was the complication of Farhan sleeping with the prostitute, still chatting to her. Isaac had noticed the secretive messages and Skype on video. He could not help but think she was a good-looking woman, but the young detective inspector was playing a dangerous game. If their boss found out, officially he may have been required to pull him off the case.
Both had come in for criticism over the handling of the case: sometimes valid, most times, racially biassed. Isaac knew full well that there were people within the confines of the building who would quite happily see them fail, even at the cost of a few unsolved murders. Isaac resolved he would protect Farhan, whatever the cost, and then he had his own problems. There he was sleeping with Sophie, wishing it was Jess O’Neill. Once in a moment of passion he had whispered her name into Sophie’s ear, not that she minded - at least that was what she had said. Isaac hadn’t been so sure, though.
Sophie had always proclaimed that it was casual sex, no strings attached, no exclusivity, but he knew enough of the world to know that women are not wired that way. They see love when there is none, state exclusivity and free choice, but only say it for the man’s benefit, hoping the man is wise enough to realise that what the woman really wants is that exclusivity and no free choice.
The situation, both professional and personal was becoming untenable for both men. There were just too many loose ends and this mysterious offspring of a promiscuous woman and someone of great influence in the country seemed to be the loosest end. It seemed crucial to find out who the person was, but no one was forthcoming. And Richard Goddard was keeping his distance. Isaac assumed it was to do with the upcoming promotions within senior management. He realised that his boss was desperate for an elevation, and a succession of unsolved murders didn’t help.
Isaac did not like it one bit. Both he and Farhan were now carrying side-arms. In all his years with the Metropolitan Police, he had never once felt the need to arm himself. Of course, like all policemen, he had the benefit of training and was always aware that a situation may arise when a weapon was required. He had assumed terrorism or a taking of hostages, but this was not terrorism or violent, apart from the murders.
***
Isaac was sure of another long night when he met up again with Farhan in the office. Farhan had been out at the hotel checking on who had told the journalist about the prostitutes. Isaac suspected that he had also been meeting with the Indian woman; the other escort had apparently disappeared. Farhan knew where she was, he had told Isaac that much. Isaac had let the matter rest there and decided not to pursue further details. He realised that if it were important, Farhan would tell him.
The British press had finally descended on Olivia’s house to find the doors locked tight, and the neighbours bemused by the microphones thrust in their faces and the questions relating to their neighbour, Caroline Danvers. Most had said she was a decent woman, well-respected in the community.
Mrs Edgecombe, seventies, a little hard of hearing, and pleased of the attention, stated categorically that she had always thought something was not quite right. The press had latched on to her for a couple of days, paid her several thousand dollars for an exclusive, but realised soon enough that she was an embittered lonely woman whose husband had run off with a younger woman, twenty-five years previous – a woman who looked remarkably similar to Caroline Danvers/ Olivia.
The media left after a few days, realising that there was no story at Olivia’s house. They turned their focus to the other woman.
It was the reason Farhan was in communication with Aisha on such a regular basis. She was worried, and there was only one person she could turn to, only one person she trusted. Farhan was not sure what he could do to help, the press was voracious, and if they wanted to find someone, they would.
‘What do we do now?’ Farhan asked Isaac once they were both settled back in the office after a meal at a local Asian restaurant. They had eaten there before on several occasions, and it had been fine, but tonight… Isaac wasn’t so sure; his stomach was feeling queasy.
‘What do you mean?’ Isaac realised his colleagues’ concerns. It had been weeks, dragging on for months now and there was no clarity as to where they were going with the case. The lead
s were drying up - dried up if they were truthful.
‘What do we have?’ Farhan asked. ‘We’ve two murders, virtually no ideas and no clear direction as to where this is heading.’
‘You’re right of course.’
‘We’re no nearer to finding Marjorie Frobisher, and whereas Wendy’s done a great job, she’s just coming up with blanks.’
‘Wendy seems to be our best bet.’ Isaac was not too comfortable with Farhan’s comment. He had known her longer than Farhan, and to his recollection, she had never failed to deliver the goods. He still remained confident that she would find the woman.
‘Okay, we’ll give her time,’ Farhan said. Isaac could not but help noticing the pressure building up on his colleague. He felt it opportune to comment.
‘You seem to be taking on too much pressure, becoming emotionally involved.’
‘I suppose I am.’
‘The woman at the hotel with Sutherland?’
‘Yes,’ Farhan replied emphatically.
‘You’re trying to protect her. An admirable sentiment, but you know it’s not going to succeed. The Press will find her soon enough.’
‘That’s the problem. It looks as if they have.’
‘We better talk this through. You can’t protect her on your own. She’s a material witness, maybe not in the murder, but certainly due to her association with Sutherland. Did you ever expect to protect her totally?’ Isaac felt that a love-sick colleague was counter-productive, even though he felt empathy with him.
Had he not become involved with a Scandinavian au-pair? Attempted to defend her against what he had seen as biassed allegations, only to find out later that she had been the murderer all along. He could not let his colleague fall into the same trap. The solution was a detachment from the woman and soon. Isaac could see that clearly enough. Could he convince Farhan? He had to try.
‘I had hoped to protect her. But now it’s complicated.’
‘You’ve slept with her?’ Isaac knew the answer but felt the need to ask again.
‘You know I have.’
‘Since you were given a warning to keep your distance?’
Murder is a Tricky Business (DCI Cook Thriller Series Book 1) Page 26
