In for the Kill (18 page)

January 1946, both at Wandsworth Prison, and Schurch on 4 January 1946 at Pentonville Prison.

I could check with the Public Record Office but Percy must have got it wrong. It was probably the gossip at the time. Percy always did like to embellish. I looked under German spies and agents but whatever happened to Hugo Wildern it was never recorded.

I glanced at my watch and saw that it was time I made for Camp Hill Prison. The thought brought me out in a cold sweat. Long before I reached the prison gates my heart was pounding violently. I stepped inside the magnolia-painted visitors’ room and my stomach heaved at the prison smell and the fact that I was once again incarcerated. I told myself that at least I could walk out of here a free man. Yet, I wasn’t free.

Rowde was pulling the strings and I could do nothing but jerk in his direction.

Ray greeted me with smile and a ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ kind of look whilst the screws eyed me with suspicion. When I had telephoned to arrange the visit I had made up a story about Ray asking me to call on his brother in Portsmouth who had Multiple Sclerosis (that much was true, apart from my visiting him) and that Ray’s brother had pleaded with me to pass on a personal message for forgiveness. They’d argued bitterly and fought physically before Ray had been caught and sentenced for burglary, and it was time to kiss and make up. I was sure they didn’t believe a word of it but here I was, so I didn’t care much what they believed.

‘Who worked you over?’ were Ray’s first words.

‘Rowde, or rather one of his thugs.’

Ray raised his eyebrows. The screws hadn’t commented on my battered appearance.

‘Rowde’s after me for the money I don’t have,’

I said, making sure the prison officer was far enough away not to hear my lowered tones. ‘I was banged up with him in Brixton for a while.

It wasn’t a very pleasant experience.’

‘He’s a head case. A vicious sod.’

‘With a long memory, it seems. He wants the money and unless I give it to him by Tuesday morning he’s threatening to harm my sons. I believe him. I’ve got to find out where that money is. It’s my only chance, short of killing Rowde, and I’ll do that if I have to and willingly serve time for it if it means my boys are safe.’

Ray rubbed his large fleshy nose. His malleable face screwed up with thought or concern, or both, I wasn’t quite sure. Thief he might be but he wasn’t, and never had been, violent. I told him about DCI Clipton’s heart attack and Joe’s murder but I said nothing about Westnam. Then I told him that I’d been to see Roger Brookes’

widow and daughter.

‘The daughter, Joanne, is living with a man called Jamie Redman. I asked about him in the local pub and learnt that he’s a “flash git” according to the barmaid, and not that well liked.

He moved to the Cotswolds with Joanne three years ago and doesn’t quite blend in with the local gentry and county set.’

‘So?’ Ray took a cigarette from one of the packets I had brought him and lit up.

‘He smells dirty. The barmaid says he’s into importing and exporting classic cars. Joanne’s well off in her own right. Daddy sold his business to a conglomerate and she split the money with her mother. She’s not right either, Ray. The whole set-up stinks. Mother and daughter have a secret that they’re very afraid I might discover.’

Ray squinted his eyes as he exhaled. ‘And how will this lead you to the money?’

‘Christ knows!’ I cried, flinging myself back in the chair and pushing a hand through my hair.

The screw eyed me with suspicion. Ease up I told myself. I tried to relax and look natural. ‘If I could find out why Andover could so easily blackmail Brookes it might lead me to him. I need you to ask around about Jamie Redman. Is he clean? Has he any dodgy associates? Is he known to anyone?’ Ray may be inside but there was a hell of a lot he could find out by asking certain inmates.

‘You’ve got it.’

‘And quickly, Ray. I don’t have much time.’

‘I’ll call you as soon as I can.’

‘Good, your brother will be pleased.’

‘Yeah, thought he might be. Is our time up already, Mr Harris? Doesn’t it fly when you’re enjoying yourself.’ Ray scraped back his chair.

‘Thanks for the fags, Alex, and the message. You’d better give me your number so that I can call you and find out how Eric’s doing. He’s going into hospital, Mr Harris.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Harris didn’t look convinced. That was his problem. As long as Ray could get to a phone then I didn’t care what he thought.

I gave him Scarlett’s mobile number, told Ray that he’d get my neighbour and that she would come and get me or take a message. I could see that he read between the lines, incorrectly as it happened. All I had to do now was tell Scarlett.

First, though, I dived into Newport and bought myself a mobile phone. I had resisted for as long as I could, but I was getting weary of finding a pay phone and felt the urgent need to keep in touch with Scarlett. If Ray had any news to impart, I needed access to it immediately.

I drove back to the houseboat checking my mirror continually for any signs that I was being followed. I wasn’t. The police didn’t seem interested in me, but still I rounded the bend onto the Embankment cautiously and scanned the horizon for any sign of police cars. There were none and only one car I didn’t recognise parked in the lay by opposite my houseboat. It was an expensive BMW with tinted windows. It didn’t look much like a police detective’s car and it wasn’t Detective Chief Inspector Crowder’s.

As soon as I stepped into my small forecourt I could see that the front door had once again been forced open. It hadn’t taken much because after the break in I had only put a couple of bolts on the inside. I was beginning to wonder why I bothered. I might as well leave it open.

My heart started knocking against my ribs. Was I about to be arrested? Maybe I should simply turn and drive away. But what if Rowde was inside waiting for me? I couldn’t risk not seeing him. I had to know that my family were still safe.

I pushed open the door. Rowde was picking over the debris of the lounge that I hadn’t bothered to tidy up. Fury seized me at the sight of his smug countenance and I lunged forward shouting:

‘Where are they, you bastard?’

Marble man struck me before I had even reached spitting distance of Rowde. I fell heavily to the ground, jarring my back on something.

Winded though I was I still managed to gasp, ‘If you so much as hurt one hair of their head I’ll –’

‘What? Beat me to a pulp? I doubt that.’ Rowde laughed.

Marble man looked like he was coming back for seconds; I tensed myself but Rowde shouted,

‘Leave him. I think he’s got the message.’

‘I’ve got two more days, not counting today, to get your money. Why have you taken Vanessa and the boys now?’ I struggled up, trying not to wince at the pain.

‘The deadline’s been cancelled.’

‘What?’ My head came up and my stomach heaved. The houseboat swam before me. My heart was pounding rapidly and I could hardly catch my breath. I looked up at Rowde’s smug expression. My eyes swivelled to marble man; fists clenched, he looked as if he was eagerly anticipating beating the hell out of me. Now I was praying that the police had found out about Deeta being on my houseboat and that they’d walk through that door. But the cavalry had never come to my rescue before, so why should it now?

‘I’ll get the money for you. Just let them go,’ I urged.

Rowde ambled around the dishevelled room finally settling himself opposite me on the bench seat.

‘I need time,’ I pressed.

‘Time is one thing you don’t have, Alex, and neither do I. I want the money now.’

I had to tell him about the plan I had hatched with Gus on our return from Guernsey, but I had to convince him it was the truth. I hesitated, looked distressed, (which was easy, because I was) and finally, after seeming to wrestle with my conscience, said, ‘It’s in a Swiss numbered account. I have to travel to Zurich to get it.’ I held Rowde’s gaze. He looked sceptical. ‘I could give permission for it to be transferred to you, but that way the money could be traced by the police. Still if that’s what you want, it makes no difference to me…’

‘We’ll go to Zurich.’

‘Only one problem, Rowde, I can’t travel on my passport. I’m out on licence. They’ll stop me.

And I’m being followed by the police.’

My heart gave a little whoop of joy as marble man looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Rowde glared at me. ‘How do you know?’

I laughed scornfully. Why hadn’t I thought of this before?
To fight scum you’ve got to act
like scum

– Ray’s words.

‘Give me credit for learning something whilst I was in prison, Rowde. I wasn’t always banged up with you.’ I wondered if he’d get the insult but he didn’t. ‘I not only know how to smell and spot a copper a hundred yards away, but I also know how to invest money. I’ll get you your three million plus interest and then you can bugger off into the sunset and leave my boys alone. I might even join you. No, on second thoughts you’re far too crude for me. Demanding money with menace is not my style. I don’t need it when I can use a computer.’

I saw him thinking over my words and the light dawned in his eyes. I don’t think I’d have been surprised to see pound signs roll in his pupils like a gaming machine.

I said, ‘I’ll need a false passport to get out of the country. I take it you can organise that for me?’ I sat back and crossed my legs. I almost wished I smoked. I was doing my best Humphrey Bogart impersonation. ‘And I don’t want ugly guts there tagging along. It’s just you and me, Rowde.’

Marble man stepped forward, but a look from Rowde and he froze.

I had Rowde convinced. ‘There’s another condition. I hand the money over
after
you let Vanessa and my sons go, and I have spoken to them on the telephone, and Gus has confirmed they’re all right. If they’re not, or you foul up in any way, then the three million will stay exactly where it is. What do you want the most Rowde, money or murder?’ I held my breath.

After a moment Rowde nodded. ‘OK, when?’

‘How quickly can you get the passport?’

He thought a moment. ‘Monday morning.’

‘OK, call me as soon as you’ve got a name for me and then I’ll arrange the flights. You can meet me at the airport with the passports. I’ll telephone the bank to let them know I’m coming, and if you think that you can beat the account number out of me, and then just show up and forge my signature, think again. They also need my fingerprints and I don’t think even you’d get away with carrying in my dead fingers.’

I was bullshitting like mad but it fooled Rowde.

I wasn’t sure what I’d do when we got to Zurich and I didn’t much care, as long as Vanessa and the boys were unharmed.

‘Now I want to speak to them. Get them on the phone.’

‘That’s not part of the deal.’

‘There’s no money then and the police will be here in a minute.’

Rowde was punching in a number before I’d finished speaking. He spoke a few words and then handed over his mobile.

‘Vanessa!’ My heart leapt into my throat. The blood was pounding in my ears.

‘What’s happening, Alex?’

‘I can’t tell you now, but soon it will be over.

Are you OK?’

‘Yes, but Alex –’

Rowde snatched the phone away. I said, ‘I’m warning you Rowde if you hurt them –’

‘I will if you don’t show up at the airport. Now give me your mobile number.’

I jotted it down for him.

Rowde hesitated at the door. ‘Barry, see if the filth are out there.’

‘I doubt you’ll spot them,’ I said.

‘Like you, Barry and I also have a good nose for coppers. Anyway they can’t get anything on me, this is just a social visit catching up on old times. All that crap about being framed, why didn’t you just say in the first place? It would have saved you a beating.’

‘I didn’t want to spoil Barry’s fun.’ Rowde had reached the gate when I said, ‘Did you kill the girl?’

He turned back, surprised. ‘What girl?’

‘The blonde one.’

‘Don’t know any blondes.’

I didn’t believe him.

I turned my attention to the chaos in my bedroom, in particular my mother’s belongings.

I wasn’t surprised to find that her diary for 1938

had gone, but I was surprised to discover that the photograph of me with my telescope had. I searched in vain and could only draw the conclusion that Deeta must have taken it. Why should she want a photograph of me? There was only one reason and that was prompted by something Percy had said. My mother and I had been standing in front of the folly. I couldn’t think why Deeta should be interested in that; it was just bricks and cement, a great empty chasm of a place that had been stuffed full of junk when I had been a boy. And, as the police hadn’t yet come to question me, whoever had killed Deeta must have taken both items from her.

I knocked on Scarlett’s door.

‘Do you know if the Asletts are at home this weekend?’ I asked stepping inside. I had remembered that Scarlett was their cleaner.

‘Why? Are you thinking of calling on them?’

she said with a hint of sarcasm.

‘Not them. Bembridge House.’

She frowned puzzled. I guess I owed her an explanation and by her expression she wasn’t going to give me the information I wanted until I gave her one.

‘I need to get inside the folly. I suspect there is a key to it inside the house.’

‘Why on earth do you want to get in there?’

‘It’s better if you don’t know.’

‘Oh, big boy stuff, is it?’ she flashed.

‘No. I just don’t want you going the same way as Deeta.’

After a moment she said. ‘OK. I understand your reasoning and appreciate your concern, but if it’s anything to do with this Max then I want to know about it. Besides I think you owe me a couple of favours.’

She put her hands on her ample hips and glared at me. I had to smile to myself. She wasn’t going to give me the information I needed without a fight, and she was right. I did owe her.

I told her what Percy had said about Hugo, Max and Edward, and about the missing diary and photograph.