Black Daffodil (Trevor Joseph Detective series) (13 page)

‘Not even when the order can save her life?’ Peter challenged.

‘Aren’t you being a little melodramatic, Peter?’ Daisy gave him a condescending smile.

‘No, I am not. Three people are dead. One of my colleagues has disappeared. His wife received a telephone call telling her that he had been injured, and asking her to visit him in the hospital. She left their house and hasn’t been seen since …’

‘Precisely, his wife. Think about it, Peter. I am not your wife …’

‘Yet.’

‘Carry on like this and I won’t be.’ She watched Dan sneak out of the door behind Peter. ‘No one knows about us. All we’ve had is a couple of dates …’

Dan closed the door behind him, stood in the corridor and listened to the argument raging behind him. It looked like Peter Collins, had met his match in temper – obstinacy – dedication to the job and a few other qualities it was difficult to put a name to.

‘No! No! No! You might be a police officer but that does not affect me and I am not going to change my professional life to accommodate the vagaries of your chosen career.’ Daisy left her chair, turned her back on Peter and walked to the window.

‘Don’t you understand what Dan and I are trying to tell you? Lee has disappeared and so has his wife …’

‘I understand you. But for the tenth time. I am not your wife and from the way you are behaving right now I never will be.’

‘Are you saying that my profession isn’t important?’

‘Are you saying mine isn’t?’ She turned the question back on him.

They glared at one another for a moment. Daisy saw Peter’s mouth twitch. She started to laugh.

Peter dropped down into one of the chairs. ‘This is bloody ridiculous.’

‘That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in the last half hour.’ She sat on his lap and kissed his lips. ‘Truce.’

He kissed her back. ‘On one condition.’

‘What?’ she asked warily.

‘You tell me what kind of an engagement ring you’d like.’

It’s a boy. He’s all in one piece and has everything he should.’ The midwife checked the baby’s airways were clear which, given the noise he was making, seemed obvious to Trevor, cut the cord and wrapped the baby in a sheet before giving him to Trevor.

Lyn struggled to sit up. ‘Let me see him.’

‘He’s perfect.’ Trevor handed him over to Lyn. He crouched at the side of the bed, and gazed at both of them. He felt overwhelmed, yet happier than he’d ever been; as if someone had just shown him the meaning of life.

‘He’s beautiful.’ Lyn pushed he little finger gently into the palm of the baby’s hand.

‘I need to clean him – and you – up, Mrs Joseph,’ the midwife pushed a chair towards Trevor. ‘But I suppose I can give Dad a few minutes grace.’

Lyn couldn’t tear her gaze away from the baby. She lifted him in her arms and leaned back on the pillows. ‘He is so – so – alive,’ she murmured, watching in awe as he waved his tiny fingers and arms. The baby squinted, opening his eyes a fraction.

The midwife saw what she was looking at. ‘His eyes will be blue for a while.’

‘They’re dark and they’ll turn brown like his father’s,’ Lyn smiled down at the baby. ‘Won’t they darling?’ She dropped a kiss on the baby’s head.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes, and, when I return, you,’ the midwife pointed at Trevor, ‘will leave your poor wife and son alone for half an hour. They need rest.’ She carried a bundle of soiled linen out of the room.

Trevor smiled in relief at Lyn who looked pale and exhausted but deliriously happy.

She reached out with her free hand and squeezed his. ‘I know you can’t stay.’

‘I wish I could.’

‘Look on the bright side, when you can, you’ll be able to spend the whole of the leave you’ve booked getting to know your son.’

‘I’ll ask Dan to arrange for you – both of you and anyone in your family who wants to go – to be taken down to my brother’s farm in Cornwall. You don’t have to stay in the main house with him and his family. You can move into one of the holiday cottages he lets out. There’s always a local down there looking for casual work, who’ll be prepared to cook and clean for you.’

‘And you?’

‘There are a few more loose ends to tie up on this case,’ he answered evasively.

She gazed into his eyes, but left her finger in the palm of their baby’s hand. ‘I know you Trevor. Whatever this job is, it’s not going well.’

‘I’d be lying to you if I said it was,’ he replied.

‘Are you in danger?’

‘No,’ he replied quickly. Too quickly, he realised when he saw the look she gave him.

‘You’re a lousy liar, Trevor Joseph.’

‘And you worry too much. I’ll be fine. I have Peter to look after me.’

‘I would say he’s more of a liability than a minder.’

‘As I’ve said before, I prefer you as a room mate. You’re quieter, tidier and much more loving.’ He looked down at the baby. He was having trouble believing that he was really theirs. ‘He is beautiful.’

‘We made him well, didn’t we?’

Like Lyn, Trevor was finding it difficult to look at anything in the room, other than the tiny miracle of life with his surprisingly full head of dark hair. His and Lyn’s son. His son!

‘Our first priority is to keep him safe.’

‘Not at a high cost to you – or us as a family. You owe it to both of us to keep yourself safe, Trevor.’

‘Which I will do all the better if I don’t have to worry about you two,’ Trevor said firmly.

Lyn knew when she was beaten. ‘You’ll come and get us when whatever you are working on is over?’

‘The moment the case is wrapped, I’ll drive down to Cornwall and take the two of you home. I promise.’

‘How much longer … stupid question. You don’t know, do you?’

‘No,’ he answered. ‘No, I don’t.

The midwife walked in. Her arms full of clean bed linen and towels. ‘You still here, Mr Joseph?’

‘No. I’m a hologram.’

‘Very witty.’ She dropped the linen on to a chair.

‘Do you have to leave, right this minute?’ Lyn pleaded.

‘No, I’ll stay around and see both of you settled before I go back.’

She kissed the baby again. ‘He needs a name.’

Trevor gently stroked the baby’s head ‘We talked a lot but never made any decisions. What would you like to call him?’

‘I thought Miriam would go well with Joseph.’

‘He won’t thank you for that when he’s older.’

‘No, he probably won’t.’

‘I’d say definitely, not probably,’ the midwife observed briskly.

‘My father’s name was Martin.’ Trevor wasn’t sure why he’d mentioned it. He’d never had any thoughts of naming his son after the father who’d died before he’d reached his teens.

‘Marty.’ Lyn looked down at the baby and repeated it. ‘Marty. Yes we both like that. Thank you, Daddy.’

‘I suggested it because I thought we could use it as a middle name,’ Trevor said in surprise.

‘The middle name is no problem, that’s Trevor.’

‘Poor little man, he deserves better,’ Trevor commiserated.

The midwife looked over Trevor’s shoulder at the baby. ‘I ordered you out, Mr Joseph.’

‘So you did.’ Trevor kissed Lyn again, then touched his fingers to his lips and dropped the ‘kiss’ on the baby’s head. ‘See you in a little while, Mrs Joseph and son.’

‘Marty,’ Lyn called after him.

Trevor walked out. The last thing he heard was the midwife, saying,

‘Men! What do they know about women or babies?’

Lyn’s reply made him smile. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I think some of them know a lot more than we give them credit for.’

Chapter Thirteen

Dan was sitting in solitary splendour in the waiting room outside the entrance to the maternity ward. He was holding a folded newspaper and a pen and was apparently engrossed in a crossword but he looked up expectantly when Trevor joined him.

‘A boy, a beautiful boy with his mother’s dark hair and dark blue eyes.’

Dan was tempted to say that when the father’s hair wasn’t shaved it was dark too, but Trevor looked too happy for him to want to contradict him. Even in small ways.

Trevor sat beside him. ‘You’ll take them to my brother’s farm in Cornwall and arrange security.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It is.’ Trevor sank his head in his hands. He tried not to close his eyes because, every time he did, he saw the look on Bill’s face when he told them Maria Sanchez and Michael Sullivan had been shot in the back of the head.

‘You’ve done enough on this one, Trevor. We’ll alert the locals. They can pull Chris and Sarah out this afternoon. This operation has proved too costly in terms of lives. And, I’m not counting Lee and his wife – not yet.’

Trevor had never been so tempted to walk away from a case. But then he thought of Alfred, and Alfred’s wife and children. Maria and Michael – not that he knew them, but it took a particularly dedicated officer to volunteer for undercover work. And Lee … Jake Phillips … Alec Hodges … and the other young people who had died after taking Black Daffodil. But most of all he thought about his son. He wasn’t even an hour old and already he knew that Bill had been right when he’d said,

‘What kind of a world do you think your baby is going to come into if this crap hits the streets big time? No one will be safe. Not you. Not me. Not the young mother shopping in the supermarket alongside the chemist buying new supplies. And don’t forget the crazed junkie who doesn’t know what he’s doing and doesn’t care as long as he gets his next fix.’

‘You gave Peter and me another twenty-four hours, Dan.’

‘That was before you became a father.’ Dan shook his head. ‘You can’t set the whole world to rights, Trevor.’

‘I can take a shot at it.’ Trevor dropped his hands and sat up.

‘You think Darrow’s behind Black Daffodil, don’t you?’ Dan asked.

‘I don’t know. It’s an option to consider.’

‘All right, twenty-four hours, but keep reminding Peter what you’re looking for, will you. He’s a bit too much of a maverick for my liking.’

‘I’ll try, but you know Peter.’

Dan nodded. ‘Unfortunately, I do.’

‘Where is he?’ Trevor looked around.

‘Quarrelling with Daisy. She’s refused to go into a safe house or accept protection from us. As a mere girlfriend, as opposed to wife, she insists she doesn’t need it. I’d say Peter’s met his match there.’

‘It’s good to see someone putting Peter in his place. But I’m not sure about leaving Daisy without any protection.’

‘This hospital is plastered with CCTV cameras. I’ll put one of our men in to help out with monitoring them and he can follow her home at the end of the day to make sure she gets there.’

‘Stick a tap on her work and home phones,’ Trevor advised.

‘If you’re thinking about Lee’s wife, we’ve warned Daisy.’

‘That doesn’t mean she’ll remember the warning if she gets a caller telling her Peter has been injured.’

‘I’ll see it’s done. And, talk of the devil,’ Dan left his chair when Peter and Daisy walked into the waiting room.

‘Daddy!’ Daisy hugged Trevor. ‘I phoned down and your wife and son are ready to receive visitors.’

‘Thought of a name yet?’ Peter passed Dan and Trevor cigars. ‘To be consumed later outside the hospital.’ He handed Daisy one when she frowned at him.

‘Yes.’ Trevor pocketed the cigar.

Peter pushed his tongue into his cheek. ‘Peter Daniel Joseph?’

‘Martin Trevor Joseph, we’d like you and Dan to be godfathers, if you want to be. It goes without saying that Daisy is godmother.’

‘Hasn’t the mother any say in choosing the godparents?’ Daisy asked.

‘She did. We discussed it months ago.’

‘I put a bottle of champagne in the ward fridge when I came in. Let’s visit and crack it open, fellow godparents.’ Daisy slipped her arm around Peter’s waist and looked at Dan. ‘Thinking of all the football matches you’re going to take him to when he’s out of nappies?’

‘More likely the strip clubs as soon as he’s old enough,’ Peter said.

‘It’s not too late for us to change our mind about one of the godfathers,’ Trevor opened the door and led the way into the ward.

The following morning Trevor woke wondering if the day before had been a dream. He knocked on Peter’s door, showered, dressed and ordered ham, eggs, toast, orange juice and coffee from room service. They ate on Peter’s balcony after sweeping it for bugs.

‘There are too many coincidences for Baby Darrow not to be mixed up in Black Daffodil,’ Peter persisted. ‘That party in the penthouse was expensive. A live band, working girls, free samples of drugs and booze …’

‘As Darrow’s given his son a penthouse I think we can safely assume he’s given him an income to go with the lifestyle. You saw that taped interview. “Expense isn’t a consideration when I entertain friends or host a business event”.’ Trevor filled Peter’s coffee cup as well as his own.

‘I still say …’

‘There’s no way we can go into the witness box with what we’ve got. “My Lord, Eric Darrow’s a multi-millionaire and you can’t make that kind of money legally – not when you pay taxes. He looks shifty. He allows people to deal drugs, torture and murder in his casino and we think he owns brothels. We have no proof of any of this, but we recommend he be sent down for life”.’

‘You’re right; he’s too slippery to end up in court, the evil sod.’ Peter bit into a piece of toast as though he was punishing it. ‘I’m fed up with scum getting away with murder because they’ve enough money to pay exorbitant fees to bloody clever lawyers. Give me five minutes alone with Eric Darrow. I’ll strangle the man – slowly and painfully. Every time I think of Alfred. And what Lee has already gone through and his missus could be going through …’

‘Like Michael and Maria, it has to be down to a leak from our side,’ Trevor said soberly.

‘You think it’s a coincidence that Alfred was killed in the casino and Lee was maimed there?’ Peter challenged him.

‘It’s possible.’ Trevor knew he was irritating Peter by playing devil’s advocate but Peter’s major professional fault was trusting instinct before evidence.

‘I don’t buy it. Darrow knew about our operation …’

‘How?’

‘Because he owns bent coppers.’

‘I’d agree with you if you’d said local bent coppers. But they didn’t know about us. You heard Dan. He staked all our lives on the people he helped pick for this case.’

‘Then it has to be someone who’s liaising with Dan,’ Peter fell silent for a moment, ‘One of the make-over guys – like Ferdi. Or someone who falsified records to build our undercover stories …’

‘You think someone working on the sidelines sold us out?’ Trevor broke in.

‘It has to be.’

‘Because you don’t want it to be one of us?’

‘The only ones not undercover and risking their necks on a daily basis are Bill and Dan,’ Peter pointed out logically. ‘Do you seriously suspect one of them? Or Andrew, or Chris or Sarah or Tony …’

‘Logic tells me I should suspect everyone.’

‘Including me?’ Peter questioned seriously.

It was Trevor who broke the tension building between them. ‘This is getting us nowhere. Without anything to go on we could argue about who it could be for hours.’

‘We need to find Kelly.’

‘You’re sure she knows something?’

‘She was at that party, she was upset about what happened to Jake Phillips,’ Peter insisted. ‘I should have been more careful. If Eric Darrow owns that parlour, and one of his hired thugs was listening in when we were talking, anything could have happened to her.’

‘She could have simply run.’

‘That’s what Dan said. You don’t believe that any more than I do.’

‘We can hardly go looking for her, not without treading on the toes of the locals.’ Trevor wiped his hands in his napkin. ‘I’ll telephone Lucy later and ask her to make a house call here. She might know Kelly’s whereabouts.’

‘And she might not. You want to visit Chris and Sarah?’

‘Given your obsession with him, we could try talking to Darrow senior first, but only if you promise to behave. You heard Dan – Chris and Sarah are under surveillance. They’ll survive for another hour or two, without us.’

‘Do you think we’ll succeed in rattling Darrow’s cage?’

‘If you cool it, we might strike lucky,’ Trevor said with more hope than expectation.

‘If we do, we’d better stay at a safe ducking distance lest the shit that falls out lands on our heads.’

A casino ablaze with lights at night and a casino during the cold grey light of day – not that light ever reached the interior of most windowless casinos – was the difference between a living, breathing body and a corpse. The outward appearance might be the same, but noise and people were needed to lift a gaming den from dead, tawdry vulgarity to a semblance of glamour. Trevor had always found the cold smell of alcohol nauseating in the morning. And the paraphernalia that went with organised gambling – the baize-covered tables, roulette wheels and electronic flickering gaming machines looked like so many cheap toys in a room devoid of people.

Peter had used the ‘we have important business with Mr Darrow’ ploy to get past the body-builders on the door. To Trevor’s amazement it had worked. When they reached the centre of the casino, he discovered why.

Eric Darrow was waiting for them on the walkway in front of the lift. In exactly the same position he had adopted twelve hours earlier.

‘Good morning, Inspector Trevor Joseph, Sergeant Peter Collins. You have been promoted since I last saw you.’

Trevor returned his stare.

‘You didn’t really think that your amateurish disguise and drug-dealer cover would fool me, did you, Inspector? But I give you full marks for inventing one that enabled you and the sergeant to stay in a decent hotel. The high life must be a welcome change from your penny-pinching existence.’ Eric leaned on the railing and looked down on them, using basic psychology to place them in an inferior position.

Trevor reined in his temper, but he could see Peter clenching his fists, which was a bad sign. He couldn’t allow Eric Darrow to keep the upper hand or believe that he had the monopoly on information. ‘Is your son Damian here, Mr Darrow?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know where he is?’

‘I presume at college or on my yacht,
Lucky Star
. As your people have thrown him out of his home, it was the only accommodation he could find at short notice.’

‘His flat is a crime scene,’ Trevor reminded him. ‘Someone attempted to murder Jake Phillips on the premises. We also have cause to suspect that that Alec Hodges was assaulted there. Your son would have been offered alternative accommodation.’

‘Highly unsuitable accommodation’ Eric Darrow answered. ‘Unlike you, Inspector Joseph, my son is not used to roughing it. It is most inconvenient for him, having to live on a boat. Especially as
Lucky Star
has been chartered for fishing trips most weekends. There are only two weeks left of this term and he hoped to be able to work on a film he intends to showcase next year. He has everything he needs in his study in his penthouse, and only scratch facilities on the yacht.’

‘He will be able to return to his flat as soon as the forensic teams have finished their work.’

‘I don’t know what they expect to find. The world and their friend trampled through Damian’s penthouse on the night of the party, Inspector. My son entertained over a hundred people that night.’

‘A fact we are well aware of, Mr Darrow.’

‘Sometimes I think we are living in a police state. Damian’s penthouse is bought and paid for. And being locked out of it is not only the only inconvenience. Damian has obligations as a landlord. He had to cancel lucrative charters on his own yacht,
Lucky Me
so Lloyd Jones could move on board.’

‘They need a yacht each?’ Peter questioned.

‘Boys that age need their privacy.’

‘The law allows the police to confiscate the profits of crime. I trust your son bought his penthouse and yacht with legal funds. Or did you buy them for him, Mr Darrow?’ Peter played with the roulette wheel.

‘They were paid for by his trust fund,’ Eric Darrow said conversationally. ‘I had my solicitor set it up the day Damian was born. It is important to look after your children financially. Wouldn’t you agree, Inspector Joseph?’

Trevor felt as though an iron band had closed over his heart.

‘I congratulate you, as one father to another. Boy wasn’t it?’ Eric Darrow continued. ‘I like to keep up with the doings of old acquaintances, especially ones like you and Sergeant Collins. But much as I enjoy talking to you, Inspector, I am a busy man. Have you come here to discuss something in particular?’

‘Black Daffodil.’ Peter monitored Darrow’s reaction.

‘A new flower? I can’t see the people of Wales abandoning the yellow daffodil as their emblem.’

‘I’m not talking flowers.’ Peter stepped up on to the walkway, putting himself on the same level as Darrow, which, given that he was considerably taller, was to his advantage.

‘I misheard you. I thought you mentioned a daffodil.’ Eric Darrow held his ground although Peter continued walking towards him.

‘I did.’ Peter didn’t explain further. ‘What do you know about Lee Chan?’

‘Lee Chan?’ Eric Darrow managed to look as though he’d never heard the name.

‘The man whose arm was found in the car park of this casino last night.’

‘Oh yes,’ Darrow spoke softly. ‘The individual your people believe fell foul of his friends and was mutilated in one of my back rooms – although I very much doubt any mutilation was carried out on these premises.’

‘How do you explain the blood spots found in the room?’ Peter challenged.

‘A paper cut on the edge of a new pack of cards – a nose bleed – a torn fingernail. There are a hundred or more possible explanations. As I told your colleagues in the early hours, I never heard the name Lee Chan before they mentioned it. The Chinese are what is known in the trade as “excellent return customers” but they demand – and get – absolute discretion. When I rent them a room it is on the understanding that they will not be disturbed and their personal details will not be passed on to a third party – no matter who they are.’