Rowntree tutted and looked at the floor shaking his head. “This is no time for your usual crap, Bradley.”
“You’re right there, Gary,” said Dan. “One question. Is the knife used on John Balfour the same one used against Laura Gosling?”
“Now that would be a very silly thing for this killer to do, don’t you think, Mr Bradley?”
Dan shrugged.
Grimstone gave him a flat line smile. “The blades could be similar, but the strike pattern is totally different. One was a cut across the throat, a swiping move, Balfour was taken down by stabbing thrusts with the front of the blade point.”
“But you can’t rule it out?” said Eva.
“I’d never even ruled it in, until now. It hadn’t crossed my mind that these killers could be one and the same.”
“It’s worth a look, don’t you think?”
Grimstone nodded. “There, Gary. You’ve had your five minutes. My bet is the chief wouldn’t have even let you down here if you’d asked, eh, Gary? What with you being the first on scene.”
“Then it’s a good job that I didn’t ask, Grimmy. Thanks for being so accommodating,” said Rowntree. “Show’s over folks.” He turned and walked out of the doors of the lab, scratching the back of his boulder-like head as he moved. Eva saw his suit was creased and shiny, and when he looked around at her she saw he was tired with deep, dark circles under his eyes. In spite of it all, the devious bastard managed to give her a wink when Dan was busy saying his goodbyes to Grimstone. Eva narrowed her eyes in reply. Rowntree chuckled silently.
They walked out through the strange police station funk of the corridor which led past busy offices. The walls were all old blue and white gloss paint dressed up with hideous modern corporate signage. The place reminded Eva of a mental institution, full of uniformed coppers instead of nurses and porters. She was glad when they finally broke past the desk sergeant into the public space. Eva felt like she was coming up for air and took a long fresh gulp.
“What’s your feeling, Gary?”
“Eh?” Rowntree looked wrong footed. Dan had asked the question.
“Who killed John Balfour?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Last I saw, you were working on him.”
“You’re out of line and you’re barking up the wrong tree. But if you carry on I’ll give you that pasting you’ve been after for years.”
“Leave it out. You’re far too slow for me, Gary. I’d put you on your backside in no time.”
Gary’s face scrunched up in anger. He jutted a fat finger at Dan. “I had nothing to do with it. John Balfour lied to you about knowing who had it in for Laura, and whatever he was doing to get himself in this kind of bother – he’d hidden from me too. But I should have known! He was my little snitch. I should have known what was going on, but I didn’t. Now I’ve got to find out. No one had the right to do that!”
“Do what? Make you a prime suspect for murder?” said Dan.
Rowntree lunged half way toward Dan, but Eva stepped across. “You don’t want to go there, Gary. Number one, we’re slap bang in front of the nick. If your boss still has it in for you your job will be finished here. Number two, we’re in front of the Civic Centre too. There’ll be a hundred witnesses.”
Gary Rowntree looked up at the grey glass tower that dwarfed the police station beneath it.
“You need to go home and get some sleep, Gary. You’re malfunctioning and you look like shit.”
Rowntree’s demeanour changed, he looked crestfallen, sunken. “You always did know how to make me feel like a million dollars, Eva.”
“Do yourself a favour - go home.”
Rowntree slowly turned away. “I can’t. You said it yourself. This thing could destroy me. Sleep is for wimps,” he sounded utterly exhausted. Dan and Eva watched as he disappeared into the station.
“What do you think, Dan?” said Eva. The case was a morass and it was sucking them in, becoming deeper as they went.
“He’s up to his neck in this somehow. Did he kill Laura? I never thought he did. Did he kill John Balfour? I’d like that, it would be nice and tidy because he is the kind of man who could kill to save his hide, I’m sure of that. But I doubt he did in Balfour. But whatever we discover, Eva, that man still has blood on his hands, I’m sure of it.”
“He’s not a good man, Dan, I know that now. But is he capable of murder?”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” said Eva. Until now, considering Rowntree as a murderer would have been unthinkable. But Rowntree was a villain with a badge. Eva couldn’t discount any such possibility until Rowntree had proved he was innocent. He had shocked her, disgusted her, and now she would have to include him as a potential suspect.
“If Rowntree was working on Balfour to stop him giving us info on this big man, then it is a huge coincidence that Balfour died straight after he got a warning from Rowntree.”
“It’s more than a coincidence, Eva.”
“But what does it tell us? It tells us Rowntree is a part of this bigger puzzle, Dan. He’s the next link in the chain. We need to follow Rowntree and hope he leads us to our suspect.”
“Unless the killer is Rowntree,” said Dan.
“It could be. Either way we need to track him.”
“Agreed,” said Dan, rubbing his hands. “Let the great game begin.”
She was now deeply involved in this mess, and she simply had to help Dan solve this one to prevent it becoming too personal or too deadly. But beyond that, she had to ensure she had enough time and mind-space to bring the Alabaster case to a successful conclusion. Or else the little business they had would soon become no business at all. To catch the Alabaster thief Eva would have to go back to Rendon and leave Dan to start work on Rowntree. Hopefully Dan wouldn’t create a disaster before she returned.
Twelve
After a long day following Laura’s murder the last thing Eva needed was to work the night, but Alabaster Properties was the phrase that pays. In fact, it was the only paying job around. Working without Dan, as much as she loved him, was something like a break. The tension was drained away, her concentration was better, and her mind clear of worry about what he would do next.
When she arrived at Alabaster’s offices it was gone nine pm, and almost every single office was clear, apart from one or two workaholics heading for a heart attack and divorce. By ten pm even the workaholics had vacated the building. Eva fixed herself a pot of coffee in the boardroom and opened a small bag of Maltesers to go with it. Another benefit of no Dan – the Maltesers would last most of the night.
While the pot percolated she fixed up the cameras at the ground floor front door, a new one facing the back entrance, and three more at crucial entrance and exit points in Alabaster’s top floor office. She checked her laptop application and all the screens were showing a view from each camera. Now it was time to settle in. All she had for company was her smartphone, her laptop, coffee, Maltesers and her busy mind. For Eva, that was enough. She was prepared for a slow night after they’d scared the stranger off a couple of days before, but she hoped the guy would be eager to try his luck again. Maybe he needed money, or perhaps the theft itself was becoming a fix for him, much like the klepto’s buzz after a high street theft.
At one am, Eva sketched out her thoughts on Rowntree’s involvement in the Laura Gosling murder, and made bullet points of the possibilities of his involvement with John Balfour. In her mind, Rowntree was rotten. There were a lot of coppers who liked taking home bonuses from the wrong sort of people. The way Eva saw it, Rowntree was in that category. It was all guesswork, but laid out as options rather than the kind of gut feelings which Dan employed. And underneath those options, she jotted and underlined a note. If Rowntree ever tried anything physical, she would hurt him then tell Dan. Yes, she would have her revenge personally. Because then Dan would feel less inclined to kill the man if she’d hurt him herself. She underlined it three times. On the third underlining, her eyes
flicked up to the laptop as a shadow moved across the lower right hand box of the split screen viewing. She clicked on it and enlarged the bottom box to full screen. She saw a shadow on the car park, shifting and then disappearing under the influence of one street lamp and then another. Adrenaline kicked in, a natural high she had missed for a few weeks now. It came upon her and she smiled and sat up in her chair, staring at the screen.
“Come on, where are you…?”
She clicked the other screens and enlarged each of them in turn. Nothing. Nothing yet. She returned to the back door camera, outside view. There. Right there. A tall thin shadow in a big floppy hat or hood filled the screen, but he was a silhouette, blotted out by the bright light behind him. Damn it, she’d never thought about picture quality versus the street lamps. The shadow shifted off camera. He was in the building! Eva sat rigid now, her breathing became light and high in her chest. The game was on. She snatched a lazy Malteser from the bag and crunched it down. Camera 2 was by the stairs on the ground floor. The man rounded the camera and she had him in profile now, the image was still grainy and full of shadow. She hoped it would help her seal this case. She had no time to review the footage. He was coming to the top of the stairs, she just knew it.
Camera 3 at the top of the stairs. What was he doing? The guy put a hand over his face and kept his head down, like he was expecting a camera to be there. The bastard, how did he know? It wasn’t a precaution for CCTV. There was no CCTV camera position outside that door. The CCTV cameras were positioned at the front entrance and exit only. Eva shook her head at the screen. There was no way this guy could have known about their temporary cameras, no way at all. A wave of confusion and upset was followed by a wave of rage. Someone had informed this bastard about the possibility of a surveillance operation. Someone who worked for Alabaster – it had to be.
She heard the door of Alabaster’s wing open and the air changed outside bumping the door against the frame. The boardroom door was locked from the inside, but now adrenaline was all she had. Her tiredness was gone. She was wired, tuned into the slightest sound of the stranger’s feet padding on the dated corridor carpet. Camera 4, positioned just above the entrance to the green office would have seen him clear and clean, but the tall figure was walking awkwardly with his face tilted down and out of sight. There was no way she could make an ID yet. Nothing that could be used in court, and if they couldn’t use it in court the footage would have been useless to anyone else.
“There’s no way…” she whispered to herself, and then fell silent, listening as the footsteps fell totally silent. There was no way this guy was going to ghost in there, make himself a payment and ghost back out past her cameras while Eva was still in the building. There was no way in the world that was ever going to happen. Eva had learned years ago that without flexibility in this game, you were sunk. Plans had to be adaptable, because people never did what was expected of them. Eva would have to do the same. The man was out there in the hall, thinking, listening. Was he aware she was there? No… she’d told no one about tonight. Not even Jim Greer. The padding footsteps moved on again and Eva took a breath, but only for an instant. Guessing the guy knew where every camera was likely to be located, Eva had to do something uncomfortable and unpredictable herself. This was supposed to just be a surveillance gig, nothing more. But it was time to adapt. She looked at the laptop screen and saw the tall guy move gingerly into the main office, his back facing the first camera, the top of his hooded head facing the second, and his face was pointing down.
“Son of a bitch, come on. Forget you might be seen. Be human. Forget!”
But the guy didn’t forget. He shifted towards Jim Greer’s PC in the corner of the room, keeping his head low. He sat down at the PC. Now there was a chance she could see his face – he would have to look at the screen. But no. He pulled his hood lower over his eyes and shifted the screen so it blocked his face from Cameras 4 and 5.
“You’re not going to beat me.” Eva stood up and looked around the room, her heart thudding along faster than was healthy. She turned the light on, knowing where he was seated the stranger couldn’t notice the light seeping into the corridor. She walked around the room, looking for something – anything – to give her some protection. After all she’d been through, Eva refused to keep a gun. It was becoming a superstition. Having no gun had kept her alive so far, why change the habit now? Now she was regretting her decision all over again. In a cupboard full of files, beside a stack of out of date Yellow Pages telephone directories, was a stapler, a bundle of cheap biros, and a letter opener that looked like a butter knife but with a sharpened edge. It was the only show in town. Eva snatched it up, walked past her laptop, looking at the screen on the way. The man was still seated behind his computer. Eva kicked her shoes off.
She turned the light off as quietly as she could and opened the door, trying to prevent every creak and groan of the old door. So far so good. Her stockinged feet padded along the hallway, her heartbeat louder and more violent than her footfall. When she reached the edge of the big office, she looked up to the ceiling and made a silent prayer. Next she tried to remember exactly where the light switches were. Deep breath. Go! She pushed into the main room, darting to the right and punched the array of light switches. The scene was illuminated by a staccato bursts of lightning, as the lights blinked on, then off, then on again. When they finally came on, the hooded man was out of his chair and running for the door. He had long legs, and a young man’s lithe build. He was wearing black jeans and a black hooded top, but it was branded Hollister. For a plain hoodie, this was worth some money. Eva moved to block the door. Confrontation was one small half of her flimsy plan, it was the stepping stone to get what she really wanted.
She held out the letter opener, hoping the shiny blade would be enough to dissuade the man from barging past her. The tall figure stalled, jagging left then right, and then stayed still, his lanky body full of tension and ready to go.
“You’re not going anywhere. I’ve called the police and they’re on their way.”
The tall man looked up. “Liar!” he shouted with a face contorted by anger. His eyes were wild, the pupils dilated and full. He was calm yet angry.
“Why am I lying? How do you know?” she risked, knowing this stand-off was going to end any moment. The man was young, but looked as dangerously cold as any she’d known. The tension poured off him, in his face, in his jaw and his neck. He was ready to launch. Equally, Eva got ready to move.
“Because…”
“Because someone told you?”
The young man looked at her again, full in the face. His mouth became a thin line, lips tight shut. He regretted saying a word, and now he would say no more. Eva walked sideways, like a knife fighter facing an opponent in a movie … she was play acting… baiting him. He watched her with disdain and shook his head, and then he dipped his head again and sprang past her like a sprinter in full flight, pounding down the corridor towards the exits. Eva watched him go, her arms folding at her side, and she took in a long series of breaths to slow down her heart rate. She looked up at the camera immediately above her and she gave it the thumbs up. She’d drawn him in, shocked him and made him forget. Now without a shadow of a doubt, she had his face on camera. Where that took her was anybody’s guess as now she knew there were other problems at Alabaster Properties. The thief had insider knowledge, he knew there were cameras around. He seemed to suspect someone might be in the boardroom, even though he didn’t check. Alabaster was supposed to be the easy paper-chase case which would keep them afloat while they solved Laura’s murder. Now it seemed anything but…
Thirteen
Eva packed up her equipment within ten minutes of the young intruder vacating the building. First she went back to her laptop, stopped the view and record function and scrolled back on the play bar. She found the image of herself looking up at the screen, and scrolled forward a touch more. There. He was still wearing his hood, but the guy’s face was front and centre on
the screen. Using the mouse on the keyboard she zoomed in, then took a screenshot and emailed it to herself and Dan. The guy had a long face, hairless, with eyes which looked wired and full of unnatural energy. Mental health issues? Drugs? Who could say, but this kid seemed to be the one playing games with the accounts. Was he the one moving the cash out of the account, or were there other players involved in this game? Either way, Eva felt she’d taken a massive step forward. Even if there were no other players, vested interests were meddling. The young guy knew there would be cameras, but from his constant hiding, Eva guessed he didn’t know their exact locations, but some positions – like near the entrances were obvious. Eva had an image. That was a start. She saved it to her phone for easy access when she needed it.
There were now two options. Go and celebrate her half victory with Dan, who would be seething about Rowntree or down another cup of coffee and make some secret headway with Dan’s ‘big game’ hunt. If she came back with anything, like the goods on Rowntree, Dan was going to resent her like hell, but at least he wouldn’t end up in jail. Eva decided to extend her evening by an hour or two. In the morning Dan could go and fetch some breakfast and coffee and she’d treat herself to skipping her run for once. The idea appealed.
Exiting the building set her on edge. Outside the front of the building the assassin Anna Kropotkin had once taken aim, shot at her and thankfully missed. And now she had confronted another edgy young criminal. The more she thought about it the guy seemed to be on something. Nothing too far-out, maybe just amphetamine, which for some reason the youths had always loved. Back when she was at college the idiots she avoided tended to get wasted on amphetamine and booze when cocaine was beyond their pocket. Something of the guy’s edginess reminded her of those fools.
She sped all the way back to town at just over the speed limit. It was down to the adrenaline. Who needed drugs anyway? Twenty minutes after arriving in town she called the police station, as she sat in her Alfa Romeo across the street in Victoria Avenue, parked by the derelict office blocks. It was just past two am when Eva made the call.
The Dirty Game Page 8
