A Cut Above the Rest

by C B Barrie

  ‘Yeah, I agree,’ Felton added, ‘I’ll just get that other payslip and we’ll keep both pieces of incriminating evidence under lock and key until we need it or we get other instructions. If Holden does reappear we’ll get that policeman Meredith to arrest him – industrial espionage is a criminal offence and we can prove it.’

  Grieves acknowledged Felton with a ‘Yes’, paused momentarily in thought, then gave a contemplative nod of his head before he walked away.

  Ellis returned to the laboratory carrying a rapidly cooling pair of coffees and set one down on the desk next to where Michael Caplin was staring at the PC screen.

  ‘Sorry Michael, the coffee’s a bit cooler than it should be - there’s something going on in the car park. I saw it through the stair window as I came back with the coffee. It delayed me a touch.’

  Caplin took his eyes off the screen and looked hard at Ellis,

  ‘What did you see – what’s going on in the car park?’

  ‘Some of our people and a vehicle locksmith, looks to me as though they were getting a car opened up.’

  ‘Really, what colour, what make?’

  ‘Blue… Ford I think – possibly a…’

  ‘Mondeo? That’s Holden’s car. Looks like he’s causing problems. Probably absent without leave – told you didn’t I?’

  Ellis gave a puzzled look, ‘But how, he’d need his car to get anywhere… anyway Michael, how did you know he drove a blue Ford Mondeo?’

  Caplin shrugged, ‘I saw him leave the centre one evening; at least I’m assuming that the car you’ve just seen is the one I saw Holden driving. Might not be, who else was there, did you recognise anyone?

  Ellis gave it thought, ‘Yes, I was interviewed by one of them during my London interview and again when I arrived here. Grieves – personnel officer, he was one of the two I saw waiting to have the car unlocked.’

  Caplin gave an inward sigh of relief, at least Nathaniel wasn’t certain or overly suspicious of anything, particularly the implications of Holden’s absence and the abandonment of his car.

  ‘Well, I’ll have a word with Charles Felton, he’s Grieves’ number two. I’m sure he’ll let us know what’s going on. In the meantime, we have other pressing tasks. Let me just complete this opening paragraph and you can have the PC back for the interim. Just to settle things and remove any doubt, I’m going to arrange an informal chat with Felton right now. I’m going to pop up to personnel, I won’t be long.’

  Ellis nodded without any sign of in-compliance. Caplin stood up and Ellis took his place at the PC. Ellis had already opened his files as Caplin removed his lab coat and replaced it with his jacket. What he was about to do might be tricky, but it had to done to leave the way clear and not risk a recoil of events - there was too much at stake.

  ‘Oh, Nathaniel, I also need to talk to Nick Gordon about your temporary deployment with me, I think we need more time don’t you, unless you’re anxious to start your own project.’

  Ellis gave a perfunctory shake of his head, ‘No hurry, I would like to get all our paperwork done first, I’ll feel a lot easier and optimistic when it’s out of the way.’

  He smiled, there was no doubt Ellis was as pliable and susceptible as they came.

  11

  Charles Felton had just had word from Jerry Fox in the foundry quality control laboratory.

  The sample the police wanted had been despatched, was there anything else they wanted or could the QC lab’ now please get on with what they were supposed to do?

  Felton smiled, Fox always gave the impression that he and his team were waist deep in vital work, and anything that constituted even the slightest distraction meant a supreme sacrifice on everyone’s part; whereas the truth was that the QC lab was probably the most relaxed and under-worked location in the whole complex. Still, it didn’t pay to rock the boat and remind Fox that his posturing was obvious, and that everyone knew it. Nevertheless, so long as Fox carried out the QC assays competently who was he to upset the rather pleasant working environment that Metlab provided.

  He took another sip of his morning coffee and crossed his fingers that today would be as un-taxing as yesterday – glad he was that for the most part he was dealing with a staff quota consisting mainly of scientists and technicians, the best aspect of which was that they were placid, dedicated to their work and the least likely to take industrial action. So long as they were given their research freedom, few were likely to play the prima donna.

  The telephone rang as he took the final mouthful of coffee. His secretary asked if he was able to see Dr. Michael Caplin for a few minutes; could it be now?

  He confirmed it could, and why not – he got on well with Caplin.

  Caplin entered Felton’s office perhaps for only the third time in the many years he had been with Metlab.

  The warm cosy atmosphere, with various photographs and plants scattered here and there, a well equipped desk and three, rather splendid, softly upholstered high backed chairs surrounding the desk, was all very inviting. His memory of the office was somewhat vague, being possibly three years old, and yet it didn’t appear to have changed that much. None of the plants had, apparently, grown.

  ‘Good morning Michael, how are you, care for a coffee?’

  He smiled and nodded, settling into the middle of the three chairs around the desk.

  Felton picked up a phone and asked his secretary for two coffees – Latte, Cappuccino? Felton queried.

  He asked for a Latte and Felton ordered two.

  ‘Okay Mike, what’s up?’

  He started with the first lie

  ‘Coming back to my lab earlier I saw you and your boss waiting for a car to be unlocked – I saw the locksmith doing it. Can you tell me whose car it was? I ask because I’ve worked late on occasion and recently there has been a car left in the car park as I’ve exited. Does the car belong to Holden, the man currently missing?’

  Felton gave him a quizzical look, ‘Yes it does, but why your interest Mike? And how do you know about Holden?’

  ‘Simple curiosity Charles, Leslie Downton turned up in my laboratory earlier this morning with a request from Jerry Fox to borrow my metallurgical microtome – apparently it’s to provide a test slice from a rejected batch the foundry had to dump some time back. According to Leslie, the sample is for the police forensic labs, and it’s something to do with Holden, the man whose gone missing from the foundry. Now I see you - and Grieves was it – having a car unlocked. From what I hear, the car belongs to Holden. Forgive my Sherlock Holmes masquerade but it all seems a little too mysterious.’

  Felton stayed silent for a short time and was about to speak when there was a knock on his door.

  ‘Ah! Coffee. Come in Sandra. Hold fire Michael.’

  The office door came open and Felton’s secretary quickly distributed two coffees. Felton thanked her and waited for her to leave. As the door closed he looked Caplin in the eye.

  ‘If I satisfy your curiosity Mr Holmes, you will have to promise to keep what I say absolutely confidential. Will you?’

  He nodded, ‘Of course.’

  ‘Okay, Holden went missing Monday before last. The police carried out a preliminary investigation. Apart from an iron/copper smelt that was in process on the Monday morning Holden vanished, and was subsequently rejected for organic contamination, nothing obvious came to the fore. Nevertheless, the police wanted Holden’s car searched just in case there was something in it to point to his disappearance. But the search couldn’t be done at the time. We called in the locksmith you saw and were able to look into Holden’s car…today.’

  Caplin heard Felton suddenly retract what he was going to add.

  ‘And?’

  Felton looked uneasy.

  ‘And… well, we found some payslips – Holden was working for Consolidated Mines. He was involved in industrial espionage. Had been for a long time.’

  He pretended amazement. ‘Christ, really?’

  ‘Oh yeah, no doubt. We really mad
e a mistake recruiting him. But now, probably because he believed he was compromised, he ran for it, hoping to avoid arrest.’

  He made no reply. Much of what Felton had said was known to him, but it was always better to know all that the opposition knew – or thought they knew.

  ‘So, what’s the significance of the sample being sent to the police forensic people. Why the need to get it assayed there, we could do it just as well here couldn’t we?’

  Felton gave a dismissive wave of his hands, ‘No, we can’t eliminate or corroborate anything in-house; it’s for the police to determine if the sample is in any way significant. Personally I suspect it’s a pointless exercise, but it has to be done.’

  Caplin let the response go, he needed one more piece of information.

  ‘So the police still have an interest, did they strike you as competent?’

  ‘Not they Mike, him – a lowly detective constable, name of Meredith. He’s based at St Ives, soon to be shut down.’

  It was what he wanted to know, but did he have time to benefit from it?

  He gave Felton a smile, thankful he had learned what he wanted to know without getting Felton upset. Reaching forward, he drank his cup of coffee in one swallow, so fast he almost choked. Swallowing hard, he silently acknowledged gratitude towards Felton with a curt nod.

  He stood up and buttoned his jacket, ‘Charles, many thanks, I feel my sleuthing days are over. What you have told me will remain a secret but I would love to know what the police forensic report says. If it doesn’t compromise anything could you let me know?’

  Felton stood up and shook his hand, ‘Of course, I’m sure the whole mystery will be tidied up once the sample is assayed. Meredith has promised a report. I’ll let you know then.’

  He smiled again and turned to leave the office – Felton had no idea but Caplin’s next move had already been made for him.

  He left Felton’s office reflecting on what he had learnt. It occurred to him that as things stood the situation could unfold in two ways.

  Either Meredith the policeman would get a negative report from the forensic people, and thereby discover nothing at all from the Forensic examination of the smelter sample. Or, alternatively, the sample would reveal contaminates which pointed to the inclusion of organic matter unmistakably that of a human. He knew that even at 1500C there was a risk that not everything to do with a human body would be completely decomposed or vaporised. Indeed, even the first outcome might not free him entirely from any risk of exposure – it depended on what else Meredith had discovered in the foundry. He would undoubtedly have inspected the gantry cab and seen the battery, wire, CD player and the earphones. Likewise, he could have noticed unusual marks on the ladder.

  And yet, if Meredith had conclusive proof from the forensic report that the sample contained human residue, then he would more than likely step up his enquiries; particularly if he saw or interpreted other things that heightened suspicion. This would be the worst-case scenario, and he knew he could not wait to find out what direction Meredith would take. His only remedy was to annul the potential threat from Meredith by ensuring Meredith was no longer able to follow through on either of the possibilities. He had no choice; Meredith had to be eliminated, and as soon as possible.

  Had Caplin been aware of it, DC Alec Meredith was as distant from the Matlab investigation as anyone could get.

  On his return from visiting the laboratories he had been immediately diverted to two pending cases, one a shoplifting report, and the other a domestic violence charge. The station sergeant, Mike Nichols, had no other personnel to handle the investigations and anyway, it was technically a CID responsibility.

  Meredith was at least happy not to have another imminent period of unbearable boredom to contend with. At least he could busy himself with normal police work; work that occupied enough of his time to avert the monotony and tedium that often brought him close to resigning his job.

  It took a couple of days to bring a satisfactory conclusion to the two cases, the first resulted in a charge sheet being made up against the suspect, the second was dismissed as having no charge to answer. By the afternoon of the Thursday he had completed all the necessary formalities, having completed the necessary report and witness statements for the Crown Prosecution Service, and was now looking forward to a deserved evening with his part time girlfriend. As the paperwork was slipped into a folder for despatch to Camborne, his telephone rang.

  ‘DC Alec Meredith, who’s speaking?’

  There was a slight delay and then,’ DC Meredith, my name is Kingsly. I’m with the South West Regional Forensic Services. You sent us a metal sample, reported as small part of a three ton smelt from the Metlab facility near Morvah north Cornwall. You asked for a full analysis of the sample, particularly any contaminates other than might be found in a pure Iron/copper alloy. Yes?’

  ‘Yes, I did indeed. What can you tell me?’

  ‘Well, our full report is on its way to you but to summarise, there is no doubt that the sample contains matter which could only have come from an organic source. Indeed, given the levels of trace metals, fairly rare elements and here and there an organic complex, we are fairly certain that the residue is human. I say fairly certain, but in truth there is no other explanation for the range of contaminates we found. There were even traces of silicon, gold and group 4 and 6 elements, which could only be there because someone had dissolved a mobile phone, a car fob and so on along with the organics, in the smelt. In short Meredith, your sample was irrefutably the result of a human body being added to the iron/copper at some 1500 degrees. Very unpleasant I might add. You will see the full analysis on page two of our report. I trust it is helpful. If you require any further assistance please use the number and extension on the report.’

  Meredith smiled at the telephone receiver, ‘Mr. Kingsly, thank so much, I’m very grateful.’

  ‘Not a problem, goodbye.’

  He was staggered but pleased, now he knew for sure. Holden had indeed met a sticky end, as he had envisaged, Holden had climbed the ladder one Monday morning and, half asleep, had lost his footing and slipped sideways around the cab ladder. Regardless of the side guards and the outriggers, he had fallen into what was the most ill-positioned smelter ever located. It was an accident, but at least he definitely knew the outcome.

  It was time for a road trip, back to Metlab to tie up the loose ends. He picked up the phone and dialled Charles Felton’s number.

  He heard it picked up, ‘Felton.’

  ‘Mr. Felton, this is Detective Constable Meredith, I have some news for you and I need to complete my investigations on the Holden case. If it’s not too inconvenient, can I make a visit tomorrow at say ten?’

  He waited while Felton was obviously checking his diary, ‘Yes Mr. Meredith, no problem.’

  ‘Many thanks, see you then.’

  Felton looked at his wall clock; it was coming up to five. There was nothing that warranted a long day so he started to pack his briefcase. He was looking forward to what Meredith had to say about Holden, and he was damn sure Meredith would be astonished when he was told that Holden was an agent for Consolidated Mines. Just then, he was reminded of his undertaking to Mike Caplin. Well, okay, do it now and there was no chance of being distracted in the morning.

  He picked up the phone and dialled.

  ‘Caplin.’

  ‘Mike this is Charles Felton, I thought you should know, Meredith is arriving here tomorrow morning at around ten a.m. He says he has some news for us. Thought you would like to know. I’ll update you as soon as the meeting is over. Okay?’

  Caplin pondered, but then, ‘Is he driving himself or will it be a police patrol car, I’m making for home tomorrow lunch time, if necessary I’ll get him back to St Ives.’

  Felton laughed. ‘Kind of you Michael, no, he’ll come as he did last time in his own car, a white Ford Escort RS. All right for some, especially if they’re not married!’

  Felton heard nothing for a good few s
econds and then Caplin gave a weary ‘Thanks Charles, yes, I’d be interested to know how it all turns out. Thanks for letting me know.’

  ‘Okay, bye.’

  On the ground floor of Metlab Michael Caplin’s mind was racing as he replaced the phone in its cradle. He couldn’t afford to let Meredith spill any beans as he had always woefully anticipated. He had to stop him and it had to be done permanently.

  One thing was certain, Meredith had to arrive via the B3066, and it was there he had to be terminated.

  12

  He calculated that for Meredith to arrive at Metlab for a 10.00 a.m. appointment, he would need to be in excess of half way along the coast road between 9.35 a.m. and 9.40 a.m. It all depended on his driving ability.

  The exact interception would best be done where the road was closest to the cliffs and coastal walkway. As such, he needed to be at the appointed location, and completely set up, by 9.25 a.m. at the latest.

  He had chosen the spot because he could rely on two essential objects, two low level signposts on each side of the B3066 roadway, noticeable from his car when travelling to, and from, the laboratories. These were two ancient, rough cut, granite blocks, no more than thirty inches in height, indicating in chiselled capitals the distance to St Ives on one side of the road and the distance to Morvah on the other. Both were set deeply into the ground and with care they would serve as support posts for his arrangement.