Death at the Plague Museum

by Lesley Kelly

  She didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning round. She hadn’t, in fact, had any kind of discussions with her colleagues about her sexuality, considering it none of their business. ‘You’re a pig, Ian.’

  ‘And you’re a dyke with such poor judgement that she lets herself be filmed kissing a witness in a health defaulter case. Has Amanda been in touch recently?’

  ‘No.’ She hesitated. ‘Has she been in touch with Stuttle?’

  He smiled. ‘Not for me to say. Shall we get on with our investigation?’

  ‘You fucker.’

  His smile vanished. ‘I’m giving you one last chance to play nice, Mona. You were a pain in the arse last time I had to work with you, and I’m not putting up with that again. I know a lot more about you now, and this time you’re going to do as you are told.’

  The rational part of Mona’s brain knew that this would be a good time to shut up, keep her head down and get Ian out of her life as quickly as possible without antagonising him further. Unfortunately her rational brain was a lot less assertive than her emotional one. She turned toward Ian so fast that her seat belt held her back. ‘You know a lot about me, do you?’ she snapped. ‘Then you’ll have learned enough to realise that I’m not going to let myself be bullied, especially not by one of Cameron Stuttle’s lackeys.’

  ‘Cameron Stuttle’s lackey? That’s a good one.’ He shook his head, still smirking. ‘Anyway, let’s get in there. And Mona?’ He opened his car door. ‘Try not to stick your tongue down the throat of any good-looking civil servants we come across in the course of this investigation.’

  When Mona closed her door the slam could be heard across the whole of Leith.

  Mona was aware of every eye in the Virus Operational Response Team watching them as they walked through the department. She wondered how much they knew about their visit. It might have been more discreet to meet off-site, rather than have everyone in the team speculate as to why Helen Sopel was off work. Did civil servants all sign confidentiality agreements? She certainly hoped so, because explaining to Stuttle why their top-secret investigation was a headline in the Edinburgh Evening News would not be fun.

  The secretary who collected them from reception was a youthful twenty-something, smartly dressed and immaculately made-up. She showed them into a small meeting room where, by way of contrast, a middle-aged man in a slightly crumpled suit was sitting. To Mona’s surprise the secretary sat down at the table and gestured to them to do likewise.

  ‘I’m Anneka Tomas, Deputy Head of VORT.’

  Mona reassessed the woman opposite her. Not a secretary, not by a long chalk. She looked impossibly young to be in such an important role, and her perfect hair and presentation made Mona wish she’d at least taken the time to drag a brush through her mop before she left the office.

  ‘And this is Simon, from our team. I thought you might like to speak to him because he took the call from Helen’s sister.’

  Simon raised a hand in their direction. His slight air of dishevelment and slumped posture combined to give the impression that he was less than happy about being in this meeting.

  ‘Great, thanks for making the time to meet us. I’m Mona Whyte, HET Officer at North Edinburgh, and this is...’

  ‘Ian Jacobsen.’ He pulled a notebook out of his pocket, and sat, his pen poised.

  Mona noted that he hadn’t mentioned he was from CID. Was this discretion, a little sin of omission, so that the VORT didn’t start wondering what interest Police Scotland had in all this? Or did it suit the police to keep their distance from this investigation?

  ‘Do you have some particular questions for us?’ Anneka asked. Mona detected a slight accent in her voice, indicating that English, flawless though it was, probably wasn’t her first language.

  ‘Perhaps you could start by telling us a little bit about Ms Sopel? What is she like?’

  ‘Highly effective.’ Anneka’s eyes sparkled. ‘She is demonstrating great leadership on Virus issues. I regard Helen as a role model, particularly for women in the civil service. She’s been very active in work to promote the role of women in public life, and has done a lot of work on international cooperation on Virus issues. And, of course, she is very supportive of her team.’

  ‘So, a joy to work for?’

  ‘Yes, definitely.’ She reinforced the point with a curt little nod.

  Mona saw a look flit across Simon’s face which appeared to contradict this. ‘Do you have anything to add, Simon?’

  He considered the question, his head on one side as if he was thinking about a number of different angles and potential responses. ‘No.’ He returned to staring at the desk.

  She’d have to finagle five minutes alone with Simon. The expressions on his less than poker face led her to suspect that his experiences of working with Helen Sopel might be quite different from Anneka’s, but she wasn’t going to get the real story out of him with his boss sitting in the room.

  ‘What is Ms Sopel like outside of work? Did she socialise with colleagues? Did she have any hobbies?’

  ‘Helen doesn’t have a lot of time for socialising.’ Anneka looked slightly scandalised at the thought. ‘She’s extremely dedicated to her work. To succeed at her level you have to make a lot of sacrifices.’

  ‘She came to the Christmas party,’ said Simon. ‘And left early.’

  Anneka glared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably on his seat. If this interview was anything to go by, the VORT did not seem to be a particularly happy place to work. She could relate to that. Simon’s eyes flicked in the direction of the door, and she saw him pat his suit pocket. A smoker. Under pressure and desperate for a fag.

  ‘So, Simon,’ said Ian, ‘her sister phoned. Is that unusual?’

  ‘Well, yeah. I don’t know how often she speaks to her sister but I assume they’d use each other’s mobile number. We don’t get many personal calls coming through on the office phones.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She asked if Helen was there, and I said no, could I take a message etc. etc. She asked if Helen was out at a meeting and when she would be back, and I said that she hadn’t come into work this morning, and we’d had to cancel her 9.30 meeting, and we were actually wondering where she was. Then she started to get pretty panicky, and that’s when I called Anneka over.’

  Anneka picked up the story. ‘Her sister – Joanne – was quite upset, saying that she’d arranged to meet Helen at Ocean Terminal last night to see a film, but she hadn’t turned up and wasn’t answering her phone. I said I would speak to someone senior and get back to her.’

  ‘And that someone senior, what did he say?’

  ‘Well, nothing, yet.’ She frowned. ‘I tried to speak to the Director of Health, but he’s off sick today, which only left the Permanent Secretary who hasn’t got back to me. I assume she contacted you?’

  Before Mona could open her mouth to lie, Ian leapt in.

  ‘Can I have a word with you in private, Anneka?’ Ian slid his notebook toward Mona. The word SIMON was written in capitals, with an arrow pointing in the direction of the door. She didn’t like Ian, but she had to admit their minds did operate in the same way. Divide and conquer.

  ‘I might step out and go to the Ladies, if that’s OK. Simon, could you point me in the right direction?’

  He looked mildly relieved that his part in the meeting was over. As the door closed behind them she said quietly, ‘Are you a smoker?’

  He looked uncomfortable again. ‘Yeah, I mean, I’m trying to give up, but—’

  She cut him short. ‘This would be a good time to nip out for a smoke. I see there’s a shelter out the front.’

  He nodded, a little confused. ‘The Ladies are back at the lifts.’

  ‘So, Helen Sopel, a joy to work for?’

  Simon snorted and took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Yeah, if you are a fast-track high-flyer who’s fluent in seven European languages, and doesn’t mind working until 9pm every night. She loves them. Ann
eka and her pals all think Helen is like, I don’t know,’ he flung his hands up, ‘the perfect woman or something.’

  ‘And if you’re not a high-flyer?’

  ‘Like me, you mean?’ He smiled. ‘Only thing she ever speaks to me about is my, and I quote, disgusting smoking habit. The woman’s a bully. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of her.’

  She nodded in what she hoped was a sympathetic manner. ‘Not a good way to behave toward junior staff.’

  ‘Not just junior! She bullies everyone into getting her own way. I reckon even the Perm Sec is scared of her.’

  ‘I’m getting the picture. Any thoughts on where Ms Sopel might be?’

  He stood up, and took a long time stubbing out his cigarette. Mona sensed there were some thought processes at work.

  ‘Is this all confidential? I mean, if I tell you something it wouldn’t come from me?’

  ‘That kind of depends on what you are about to tell me.’

  ‘A piece of office gossip?’

  ‘That I can do. Spill.’

  ‘OK, but remember that this is just gossip. So, all the time I’ve worked for Helen, which is about three years, she’s been single. At least as far as we all know.’

  ‘From what both you and Anneka have said, I’m not surprised. She seems to be a workaholic.’

  ‘She is. But the past couple of months there’s been a rumour floating around that she’s having an affair.’

  Mona leaned forward, intrigued. ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘Well, secretive mobile conversations. She’s got a voice like a foghorn usually, but she’s been sneaking out to take calls on her phone. It’s all open-plan here, so it’s difficult to hide, and people have definitely noticed her disappearing off.’

  She sat back, mildly disappointed. ‘It’s a bit of a leap to deduce an affair from a few phone calls. She could be ill.’ Her own situation popped into her mind. ‘Or have a sick relation. She could be dealing with hospital appointments.’

  ‘True. But there’s something else. There’s a young girl in the team, Taylor, who deals with our admin. She’s not even twenty yet, still lives with her parents. And one night, maybe about a month ago now, Taylor saw Helen sitting in a BMW, about eleven o’clock at night, in the car park at Holyrood House.’

  ‘The one that’s actually in Holyrood Park?’

  ‘Yes.’.

  She pulled a face. ‘Isn’t it kind of dark there at 11pm?’

  ‘The darkness is the attraction for teenagers. Taylor and her boyfriend had bowled up there for a bit of a kiss and cuddle, out of the way of prying eyes.’ He laughed. ‘Must be great to be young and in love.’

  ‘Paradise by the dashboard lights, and all that.’

  ‘Yeah, except the boyfriend’s no sooner got the car out of gear, when Taylor notices the woman in the big BMW next to them is Helen.’

  ‘Having a kiss and cuddle?’

  ‘No, having a raging argument.’

  ‘And did Taylor see what the man looked like?’

  ‘No, she was so freaked out that she got her boyfriend to reverse right out of there before Helen clocked her. Taylor probably thought Helen would be discussing her car parking behaviour at her next appraisal if she caught her. No doubt the boyfriend was cursing Taylor’s boss all the way back to his mum and dad’s.’

  She laughed. ‘That’s really helpful. Thanks for your time.’

  ‘No problem.’

  They walked back toward the building. ‘Well, at least there won’t be any bullying going on today.’

  ‘Ha, don’t bet on it. Anneka is shaping up to be Helen Mark 2. And she loves it when Helen’s off – it gives her a chance to throw her weight around.’ He paused with his hand on the revolving door. ‘You might want to check Anneka’s flat in case she’s got Helen tied up in a cupboard.’ He chuckled to himself as he went back into the building.

  Ian was already in the car by the time she got back to it. He gave her a little wave as she approached, which she took to be a placatory gesture after their earlier fight. She chose to ignore it.

  ‘So, I take it you managed to get Simon on his own?’ he asked.

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Anything of interest?’

  ‘Possibly.’ She summarised their conversation, with an emphasis on the fact it was all hearsay and relied heavily on the eyewitness testimony of a couple of horny teenagers.

  At the end of her tale, Ian threw his head back and laughed. ‘So, we’re busting a gut looking for her, and she’s probably off on a dirty weekend somewhere?’

  ‘Unlikely. The affair story is just the spin that Simon and his colleagues have put on all this. And despite what Anneka said earlier, I’m getting the impression that Helen Sopel wasn’t too popular with her staff, so it probably amuses them all to think that their annoying boss is off doing the dirty.’

  ‘Any idea who the bloke was in the car with Helen?’

  ‘No, the girl didn’t get a proper look at him. And whoever he was, I’m not convinced by the whole affair thing. Sitting in a car park at night having a full-blown argument with a man could have a lot of explanations, none of which relate to romance, but could still be relevant to her disappearance. If she was meeting someone in a car park in Holyrood Park it was obviously someone that she didn’t want to be seen in public with, and an argument definitely suggests that there was something bad going on.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Did you find out anything else from Anneka?’

  ‘Nothing useful. I had a very long explanation about the procedure that is triggered when a senior civil servant is unexpectedly absent, because, apparently, if very important people are missing it’s vital that we check they haven’t been kidnapped or defected to North Korea. Because I wouldn’t know that, would I?’

  ‘Aw, did the nasty woman patronise you?’ Mona grinned, and felt a momentary disappointment that she hadn’t been there to witness it. ‘You should have told her she was gorgeous and blown her a kiss.’

  ‘Actually she was pretty gorgeous. That’s why I took her phone number.’

  Mona’s jaw dropped. ‘You did what?’

  ‘Ah, the look on your face!’ He laughed. ‘You are so gullible, Mona. You believe any old guff.’ There was a slight, almost imperceptible pause. ‘I bet you believed all the nonsense that your friend Professor Bircham-Fowler spouted.’

  She felt a tiny thrill of adrenaline shoot through her. So, Ian was still interested in the professor, for no reason that she could immediately see. Until now she’d considered that the professor had been silenced, at least temporarily, and was no longer of interest to Ian and his colleagues. And yet, here was Ian still digging around. ‘And exactly what nonsense would that be?’

  ‘You know, the stuff he was going on about when you were down in London . . .’ He waited for her to fill in the gap.

  ‘Oh, right.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You mean the top-secret conversation when he confided in me that he thought that you and your mate Bob were arseholes?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Mona!’

  ‘I’m not talking about the Professor to you! For all I know, you were responsible for his heart attack.’

  ‘Seriously? You think Police Scotland now goes around attempting to murder elderly academics?’

  ‘No, Ian. But then I don’t think that you actually work for Police Scotland, even if you do carry a warrant card.’

  He shook his head, feigning disbelief. ‘So, who do I work for?’

  As she didn’t know the answer to that – yet – she kept quiet.

  Ian sighed and slid the car into gear. He put his arm round the back of her chair as he reversed out. ‘He’s in his 60s and was under an incredible amount of stress. Why can’t you just believe he had a heart attack?’

  ‘He was fine when I left him with you to go to a “safe house”. Not very safe, was it? But you mark my words, as soon as he’s back at work I’ll find out what really happened to him.’

  ‘He
’s not coming back. He’s requested retirement, citing ill health.’

  She stared at him.

  ‘Seriously. He’s taken his pension and gone.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Leave the man in peace, Mona. See sense. He’s well past his prime. Everyone knows he’s been talking rubbish for the past few months. We should sit down and have a proper non-confrontational conversation about what he said to you. I could put your mind at rest about a few things.’

  ‘I very much doubt that.’

  He sighed again, a long and exaggerated outpouring of frustration. ‘Have it your way. Anyway, can we focus on the investigation for a moment? We need to talk to the people at the Museum.’

  Mona looked at her watch. ‘It’s after five now.’

  ‘I’ll call you tomorrow morning and we’ll sort something out.’

  ‘Can’t wait.’

  She gazed out of the window, wondering what it was that Ian thought she knew, and why he was so worried about it.

  4

  Joanne Sopel’s flat was extremely pale. A cream carpet extended out to magnolia walls. The sofa and armchair were both beige, with a selection of white woollen cushions fastened with wooden buttons. It was also incredibly neat. Every surface was free of belongings, with the exception of a set of fanned out magazines on the coffee table. Being of that persuasion himself, Bernard wondered how she had managed to create quite such a minimalist space. His eyes wandered round the room, looking for innovative storage solutions he could implement in his new one-person flat.

  Maitland seemed considerably less aware of his surroundings, if the clump of mud that had detached itself from his shoe and was now resting on the cream carpet was anything to go by. It hadn’t escaped Joanne Sopel’s notice, though, and her head inclined toward it in what Bernard felt was quite a pointed manner. After a minute she snapped and stood up. ‘Excuse me. I’ll just get that.’

  Maitland leaned toward him and whispered, ‘Fiver says Helen Sopel’s off somewhere with a boyfriend.’