Dutch Courage (9 page)

‘Yes. Oh, only that I'd be safe because there was a Redcap outside the house.'

‘Which suggests to me that he knew or suspected more than one person being behind all these incidents, including the sending of threatening letters. That call must have given him a strong notion of who they might be. If he had reported that suspicion to us instead of trying to tackle it alone, he wouldn't now be in the sick bay. Have you really no idea who attacked him?'

‘Don't you think I'd tell you if I did?' The flash of passion again.

‘Did your husband take his car when he responded to the call?'

‘Your boss asked me that last night. Don't you share information?'

Stung by this further criticism, Tom said, ‘Not always in the middle of the night when the crime has already been committed and dealt with. I'm here this morning to get any further evidence before the general briefing on your case. We believe the phone call was to lure your husband to a chosen spot so they could leave him in no doubt of their messages in those letters they sent. Mrs Collier, I have to tell you he wasn't injured in a hit and run accident, he was set upon and severely beaten up by several people, then dumped out on the perimeter road.'

‘Oh, God!' she whispered, stricken. ‘It's my fault. I should have left well alone. It's because I came to you that they've punished Sam.' Getting to her feet, she said wildly, ‘Forget everything I told you. Keep out of this from now on.'

‘SIB can't ignore a brutal attack on a military officer based within our area of jurisdiction, regardless of what you have or haven't told us about previous incidents,' Tom said firmly. ‘Surely you want whoever hurt your husband traced and brought to justice?'

‘And have everything reported in gory detail in the press?' She looked near to tears. ‘They've bumped him up as a hero. Think how they'd love to knock him off his pedestal.'

Tom's eyes narrowed. ‘That could only occur if there was evidence to support such action. I ask you again, do you know what lies behind this campaign against you both?'

‘
No!
Now, please go!'

Tom left, knowing in his heart of hearts she was lying.

The atmosphere in the Incident Room was unusually charged. This case had an intriguing quality. A pilot awarded an MC two months ago who last night had been overpowered and flogged, and his breathtakingly gorgeous, wealthy, pregnant wife who appeared to hero-worship him. Such titillation rarely came the way of 26 Section, and the team was relishing it.

Max outlined what they had to work with. ‘Lieutenant Collier took a phone call, then rushed out vowing to sort out the bastard once and for all. His wife told me last night that he left by the rear door, which explains why George Maddox's man watching the place didn't see him go. This should also indicate that the RV given in the phone call was not far from the Collier house.

‘I think we have to assume he was not expecting to meet with violence. A man of his calibre is unlikely willingly to have walked into the arms of men liable to administer physical punishment of that severity, without any means of self-defence. It's my guess he either believed an undertaking of some kind, or a cash payment, would settle the affair. His wallet did contain several hundred large denomination Euros, which could be evidence of an anticipated payment.'

‘But would he have had an amount large enough to silence a blackmailer kicking around the house?' asked Connie Bush.

‘Yes, if he was expecting that call,' reasoned Beeny. ‘His comment about settling it finally could support the theory that he was prepared to do so with the sum they had demanded.'

‘So why do him in and leave the money?' demanded Piercey. ‘All we know of this is what was reportedly in the anonymous letters. Guff about the truth being told and blinkers removed from eyes. Cash wouldn't satisfy that.'

‘The truth about what?' asked Roy Jakes.

‘If we knew the answer to that it would've already been told, wouldn't it?' declared Piercey.

‘OK, let's have some
intelligent
input,' ruled Tom testily. ‘Facts.' He held up a finger for every point he made. ‘The campaign against the Colliers began after his spell in Afghanistan. The anonymous letters were shredded, so we have no way of checking what Mrs Collier told me. If we believe her there are two options. “The truth” concerns something questionable that happened in Afghanistan
or
during the two months since Collier returned to base. The letters failed to shake him, so pressure was put on his wife. When he failed to rise to that – because she kept it from him, although they could not have known that – they decided to give him a persuader even the stubbornest of men would heed.' He glanced at the bright faces around the room. ‘Let's hear some opinions on that.'

Piercey, ready as ever to theorize, said, ‘There's no proof the letters ever existed, and we have only the delectable Margot's word that her tyres were deflated and eggs were broken on her doorstep. What if that's a load of bollocks?'

‘To what end?' demanded Heather.

‘Hero Sam was having it off with some American GI Jane at Kandahar, so the wife who thought he was God's gift solely for her paid a trio of squaddies to teach him to keep his flies zipped when out of her sight.'

There was silence for a while. The volatile Piercey had put forward a working theory. They had been basing their brief on Margot Collier's unsubstantiated account, and husbands on active service consoling themselves with the local talent were a common specie. Add the fact that ‘the delectable Margot' could probably persuade most men to do anything she wanted, especially if backed by generous payment, and the theory was eminently feasible.

Max broke the silence. ‘She was genuinely shocked when I broke the news to her last night. Fainted at our feet.'

Piercey's lip curled. ‘Because she didn't mean them to half kill him, just to make him very sore in the offending area.'

Tom was unhappy. ‘I've had two conversations with her and she didn't strike me as the type of woman to do anything of that nature. As the Boss said just now, she hero-worships him.'

‘A woman scorned. They've
murdered
the object of their lust for less than a battleground fling,' offered Piercey, unwilling to abandon his theory.

‘OK, Piercey, we've had enough of your edification,' Tom snapped. ‘Can we have some fresh input?'

Olly Simpson glanced up from his doodling. ‘If we accept all she told us, then the letters did arrive. This demand for the truth to be told: If the sender knows there's been a cover-up, that lies have been spread around, why can't
he
reveal the truth? The campaign of harassment ending with last night's brutality suggests that only Collier can, so he has to be forced to give the facts.'

‘About what?' asked Roy Jakes again.

‘If we knew, it would already have been told,' repeated Piercey with a grin.

‘You're all going around in circles,' declared Max irritably. ‘Discussion is getting us nowhere. I suggest we address Mr Black's options. Something questionable happened in Afghanistan, or during the two months Lieutenant Collier's flight has been back in Germany. Both possibilities can be investigated by interviewing all the crews who form A Flight, and the Colliers' neighbours.

‘One thing we are certain of is that a military officer was last night lured to a lonely spot near his house, severely beaten around the head and face, thrashed with something akin to a length of thick rope, then taken to a quiet stretch of the perimeter road and abandoned. The vehicle used for this will surely have splashes of blood on the rear seat or in the boot. I also want the area within reasonable walking distance from the junior officers' quarters searched for evidence of that attack. The victim bled from his nose and mouth, so there would be signs of it there, and search for fibres from his sweater. It's probably too much to hope that we'll trace the rope, but keep your eyes peeled for anything resembling a weapon.

‘Collier's clothing has been sent off for forensic examination, which will give us more to work on when the results arrive. You all know how long that can take. I want someone to question NAAFI staff about Mrs Collier's deflated tyres. Maybe there's a nutter going around doing that on a regular basis, and surely someone would have noticed a swanky Jag in that condition. In short, I want corroboration that the lady is on the level with us. Get out there and make things happen.'

Tom shot Max a significant glance at this evident winding-up instruction. ‘Until we evaluate Mrs Collier's claims we should maintain protective vigilance. She's presently alone in her house, and she's pregnant. In view of the attack on her husband, there are potentially
two
lives in possible danger from whoever has it in for them.'

Max nodded. ‘We need to move fast on this before there's an avoidable tragedy.'

Left alone, apart from Sergeant Jakes who was doing headquarters duty until relieved by Heather Johnson, Max motioned Tom to his office and closed the door.

‘What did you say to Collier yesterday?'

‘I told him his wife had asked for SIB intervention in the dangerous harassment campaign against her.' Tom frowned. ‘What's this about?'

‘She says he was livid after being ridiculed and humiliated by you.'

‘Oh, really? Any ridicule and humiliation would have been self-induced by learning how he was being babied by his woman, I imagine.'

Max looked him over thoughtfully. ‘Tom, don't let yourself be swayed by personalities after all these years. A woman is being targeted by someone bent on making her life anxious and unpleasant. An officer has been grievously harmed in a deliberate assault. That's all we're dealing with. Two straightforward charges.'

‘What are you trying to say, sir?'

Max perched on the edge of his desk. ‘Get off that high horse, man, I'm talking as an old friend. I have to say I don't warm to the lady. There's something about all that overt passion I can't entirely trust, try as I will, but I have to take her claims seriously until my doubts are corroborated.'

‘Or disproved.'

‘Yes, or disproved. I've not yet met her husband, apart from finding him bleeding and unconscious in the road, so I reserve judgement. Nevertheless, he's a serving officer who's the victim of a crime and deserves justice whether he's a hero or a wimp.'

After a moment or two, Tom said woodenly, ‘I checked their finances yesterday. No clues there, unless they drew out a large sum just before the bank closed last evening. I'll check again today, but I think blackmail is unlikely.'

‘So do I. No regular sums going out of their accounts?'

‘His is like you'd expect most subalterns' to be. Pretty straightforward. Hers is different altogether. Large sums going
in
fairly regularly. Without probing any deeper, I'd guess she has an allowance from her father and from other close relatives; grandparents, great aunt, godfather, something along those lines. And she's a professional theatre designer of some note.'

Max was surprised. ‘You
have
been busy. So we've a tangent leading into the unknown in this case, although I doubt the answer lies in that direction. My guts tell me he's at the core of this nasty business.'

‘And I don't warm to
him
.'

‘I think I already deduced that,' said Max with a hint of a smile. ‘So let's go and find out how others feel about him.'

Once in Max's car, the awkward moment behind them, Tom asked casually, ‘How's Captain Cordwell?'

‘Fine.'

‘Have a nice time during her visit?'

‘Very nice.'

‘Good.'

They were silent until they approached 678 Squadron's hangars and offices, then Max murmured, ‘Keep your eyes open for anyone with bruised and cut knuckles.'

Tom grunted. ‘There'll be one or two of those following the weekend.'

‘When you were a squaddie did you have a mill every Saturday?'

‘No, I spent all my free time trying to charm Nora into taking me seriously. They enjoy keeping you guessing, don't they?'

‘Mmm,' agreed Max non-committally, knowing what Tom was getting at.

They split up, Max heading for the Squadron Commander's office, and Tom making for the crew room where he had sought Sam Collier yesterday. Spurred by their last comments, Max swiftly checked his mobile for texts. There were several, none of them from Livya. Yes, she was enjoying keeping him guessing.

Major Rex Southerland was a sandy-haired Scot, genial but brisk to the point of abruptness. He invited Max to sit. ‘I trust your people will be discreet with their questioning. What news of Sam?'

‘He's being kept under constant observation today, but . . .'

‘Yes, I got that from the Doc first thing. Any idea who did it?'

‘Too early for that.'

‘There's a rumour that it was a whipping they gave him.'

Max sighed. ‘So much for my hope of keeping that quiet.'

Southerland's eyes sparkled aggressively. ‘Bastards!'

‘Major, can you give me any clue as to why anyone would treat Sam Collier in that manner?'

‘God, no! Sam's an easy-going guy, a true team member. Not the sort to provoke such aggro.'

‘His wife claims he's hot-tempered,' Max pointed out.

‘Oh aye, along with the rest of us trying to operate with old equipment, lack of spares, lack of trained personnel and lack of sleep. Sam's a first-rate pilot who never loses it when he's on the job. He'll rant and rave – with justification, man – but the moment he walks out to his aircraft he's calm and totally professional. Only a man of his calibre could have done what he did recently. Whoever attacked him should be based out there until we're allowed to leave the devils to their own devices and pull out.'