The Borough

by Steve Dockray

CHAPTER TWENTY

  Winner looked at himself in the full length mirror. He hadn't really been serious when he'd asked to try it on. After all, he'd never dreamed of spending eight hundred pounds on a suit. Armani suits were for rich people, not local government men. It did look incredibly good, though, as if it had been custom made for him. Would anyone know how expensive it was if he wore it to work? He could always say that he'd bought it in a sale. It was a light shade of grey, best suited to warm summer days, so he wouldn't wear it for a little while yet. Now he wished he'd waited until Sally had finished at the bank vaults. She could be more decisive in choosing clothes.

  They had gone separately to the safety deposit centre to rent boxes, so that there would be no connection between them. The notebook, diary, cassette and diskette were tucked away with Winner's cash. The only item that remained at home now was a diskette with all the known information, protected by a random password that they had both memorised. The Petermere deposit box key had long ago been dropped down a drain in Sharmouth High Street. After Winner had rented his box they had gone for a cup of coffee, to leave some time before Sally went in herself. They were due to meet again in fifteen minutes.

  Winner made up his mind. "I like the suit. I'll buy it for cash if you'll include that tie and a good quality white shirt." He pointed at a silk tie that looked as if it had come from the front cover of a seed catalogue. There was a little conferring between the staff and the deal was struck.

  Sally was waiting for him when he got to their rendezvous outside Marks and Spencers. She looked into the top of his bag.

  "Very nice. How much?"

  Winner told her. "I did get a free shirt and tie, as well," he added.

  "They should have given you six, at that price."

  "I want to go in here and get another suit for regular office wear. A new overcoat as well, if they've got anything decent. You can help me choose."

  "You can afford something more expensive if you want."

  "I don't want to be worried about people wondering where the money's come from."

  By the end of the morning Winner had made two trips back to the car to drop off their purchases. Sally had found two dresses, a spring coat and two pairs of shoes. They went to a department store restaurant for lunch, more so that they could enjoy the view than for the food. They both chose the roast lamb.

  "You seem to be a keen shoe buyer," said Winner, repositioning the plastic daffodils that were obscuring his view of Sally.

  "It's cheaper that way. If you buy enough pairs, you never wear them enough to wear them out. You end up with a good variety to choose from."

  "I'd never thought of it like that," admitted Winner. "Don't they go out of style?"

  "You just store them away until the fashion comes round again."

  There'd never be enough storage space in a flat like mine for you."

  "I'm not Imelda Marcos. I don't suppose I've got more than fifty pairs."

  "Fifty!" said Winner, displaying a little surprise.

  "Oh, all right, maybe seventy. Certainly not many more than that."

  Winner thought it best not to say any more on the subject. He looked out at the buildings and the traffic going by in the street below them.

  "It's not really much, is it?" he said, spearing a roast potato. "Nigel's bequest, I mean. Well, it sounds a lot at first of course. Forty eight thousand pounds. But when you look out of this window, you must be able to see tens of millions of pounds worth of property. Some of those cars in the street cost more than forty eight thousand. It puts it into a different perspective."

  "It seems as if Nigel was certainly after rather more. You're not thinking of taking over from where he left off, are you?"

  "Have you thought about it?" he asked Sally.

  "Thought, yes. Then I look out of this window and it reminds me that his car dropped about this height before he hit the rocks."

  "Suppose we were thinking of it from a moral point of view?"

  "I've thought about that quite a bit. We're neither of us entirely honest, because we've kept money that we know belongs to someone else, or rather to an organisation. That makes a difference, doesn't it? I don't think I would have kept the money if it had been taken from some pensioner's savings."

  "What about the proceeds of blackmail?"

  "It wouldn't be too bad if there was no way the law was ever going to force the original wrongdoer to repay his victims. It would be a sort of rough justice."

  "So if Cavendish, say, had profited from swindles and underhand deals, you wouldn't think it too morally reprehensible to relieve him of some of his illegal earnings?"

  "I suppose not, but this is all hypothetical. We'll probably never prove it, but I'm convinced now that Nigel's death was no accident. I don't want to put myself at risk of the same sort of thing happening to me."

  "I just wanted to know where you stand, and I agree with you. I've no intention of making blackmail demands. There is a problem, though. If we start making enquiries, however discreet, about Cavendish or his business activities, then it's just possible he might get to hear of them. I don't suppose that would provoke the same reaction as the blackmail demands did, but you can't be sure."

  "Do you want to back off then, and not try to find out anything more?" Sally asked.

  "No, I'm too curious to find out what's been going on. I'll stop if you ask me to, though."

  "We'll never get any justice for Nigel's death if we don't pursue it."

  "All right then," said Winner. "We'll have a look through the Council minutes tonight and then have a nose around the various addresses tomorrow. You might feel safer moving in with me while we're investigating. You could be very vulnerable on your own in your house."

  "And how do you feel about that from a moral point of view?" she asked, smiling.

  That evening, after a fashion show of newly bought items that ended up with them both temporarily undressed, they lay on the sofa working their way through the last four years' Council Minutes.

  "What exactly are we looking for?" Sally asked.

  "Something - anything. References to Cavendish. Any declarations of interest. Who votes along with him on free votes. Any references to the Prince of Wales housing estate. Anything to do with him at all, I suppose."

  By ten o'clock they had been through all the Planning Committee minutes. They had three A4 sheets of paper covered in notes.

  Sally suggested some cocoa and headed off for the kitchen.

  Winner looked through the notes. There was nothing definite, but then he hadn't expected that. Malpractice was hardly likely to be recorded in the minutes. There was just a feeling of a pattern. A suggestion that Cavendish was only interested in a few schemes and that the rest of his duties as chairman of Planning were dealt with mechanically. Two or three councillors who always spoke in support of his viewpoint and voted with him.

  Sally came back with the cocoa and put the mugs down on the table. Winner picked his up and took a sip. It was a bit worrying, this. He was definitely developing a taste for chocolate. He would have to start taking more exercise soon or the new clothes he had just bought wouldn't fit him for very long.

  "What do you think?" she asked.

  "Lovely."

  "Not the cocoa, the notes. Is there anything significant?"

  "On top of what we suspect already? Yes, I think so. We haven't found anything about the Prince of Wales estate, but that would probably have been dealt with by the Health and Housing committee. I'm sure he's our man."

  "Did you try ringing that number from the notebook?"

  "No. It's a bit late now."

  "Go on. They won't know who's calling."

  Winner reached for the phone and stabbed out the digits from a scrap of paper. The number started ringing.

  "Cavendish."

  "I'd like to order a chicken tikka and a prawn curry," said Winner. The phone went dead and he replaced the handset. "There's no doubt
about it, it's him. Not particularly courteous, either. All we have to find out now is what he's been up to."