Indian Summer (13 page)

Ben leaned back in his chair and surveyed Max candidly. ‘Your colleagues out there had to eat humble pie. Around mid-morning they brought Keane back, cleared of any charge. Turned out we
had
attacked ragheads, who had somehow got their hands on some of our equipment and knew the identification code for that day. SIB had shifted their attention to discovering who among the locals we employed there was in league with the enemy.'

Max returned the candid look. ‘We get things wrong occasionally, like everyone else. How was Keane after that?'

‘He took it badly.' Ben glanced up at the waitress who had come to rebuke him for letting his coffee grow cold and to offer to bring fresh supplies. ‘
Ja, bitte.
'

She took up the two large cups and walked away with waggling hips. The lure was wasted. Ben was looking at Max. ‘Yes, I have to admit Keane was badly shaken having for nine hours believed he'd killed one of ours. Well, we were all somewhat subdued.' He flushed slightly. ‘I felt responsible; should have prevented it somehow. Keane's close friend Ryan Moore did his best to get him back on track, but it was Brenda who succeeded by assuring him that no casualties had been brought in that night, dead or wounded. Her nursing training would have taught her how to deal with people under stress.' He gave a faint smile. ‘Her understanding at that time sealed his devotion to her. Male patient falling in love with his nurse? I guess so.'

‘Yet he married another woman.'

Ben sighed. ‘Ye-es. Brenda was still in Iraq when we left. I'm sure it wasn't a case of out of sight out of mind, but he was unsettled without her and when he was faced with the child he'd fathered before he met her he turned all noble, would you believe? Said he wasn't worthy of Brenda, didn't deserve such a wonderful woman – that kind of nonsense. It's my personal opinion that he was still so unsettled by that night patrol fiasco he didn't have the strength of character to defy Starr. Phew, a real steamroller of a woman, Max.'

‘She's dead. Killed in a pile-up on the autobahn yesterday.'

Ben was genuinely shocked. ‘Oh, God,
both
of them?'

‘We don't yet know the exact circumstances of the accident. There could be no connection between the two deaths.'

Fresh coffee was brought, along with fresh biscuits, and they drank in silence until the girl wandered disconsolately back to the bar. Max then broached the subject he had initially wanted to discuss with Ben.

‘Any ideas of who might have wanted Keane out of the way? Had Keane become involved in a personal conflict serious enough to result in murder? Had he possibly lost his nerve and put a colleague in harm's way?'

Ben was shaking his head before Max finished speaking. ‘I'll admit he was clearly on edge for the first three or four weeks of our recent deployment in Afghanistan, but once he had been in action and had successfully brought his team safely from an ambush he was, if anything, an even better soldier. For the major part of the stint he was on top form. Certainly not a man about to satisfy his wife's demand that he leave the Army. His murder is an undeniable blow.' He raised both hands, palms upturned. ‘You sign on knowing you could be putting your life on the line, but
that
! What a tragic end for a bloody good soldier.'

The briefing at noon was fruitful. A deal of valuable information had been gleaned and needed to be sifted. Each member of the team either added or discarded a piece of the jigsaw to leave an accurate partial picture. Piercey had interviewed the clowns and been told that one of the fancy outfits had been borrowed to surprise a wife at her birthday supper.

‘Seems this woman follows her daily horoscope, and Saturday's prediction mentioned admiration from a tall stranger at a romantic gathering.' Piercey grinned. ‘So the guy puts on the outfit, walks in with a big box of chocs and starts kissing her like nobody's business in front of the guests. When she recovered from the shock and discovered it was hubby, she ignored him for the rest of the evening. She's still not speaking; didn't appreciate his sense of humour, poor bastard.'

Derek Beeny had reinterviewed Sergeant Figgis, the diver. He had no substantial alibi for Saturday after twenty-three hundred. He had been occupied with his performance at the time of the actual murder, but he could have wound the jellyfish tentacles around the dead body and dumped it in the tank shortly before it was discovered.

‘I spoke to all the personnel immediately available and I'd say it's highly unlikely that Figgis is involved. I couldn't see the slightest connection between him and Keane. Yes, the
RE
Section had been in Afghanistan at the same time as the
RCR
, but there had been little contact between them. Most of the time the Sappers were out clearing mines. Everyone I interviewed had never met or heard of Corporal Keane. In my opinion that's a blind alley, despite Lieutenant Sears's insistence on keeping the tank filled overnight. He's popular with them all. Saved a couple of guys who wandered on to a minefield and froze, until he cleared a safe path out of it. Takes guts to do that.'

Connie Bush then outlined the conversation she had had with Ryan Moore. ‘I soon realized I'd get more from him by questioning him at home when I found him feeding the boy born in his absence, and reading a fairy story to cute twins. He was initially resistant to my probing out of loyalty to his best mate – they had been really close – but once he accepted that telling what he knew would help us get Keane's killer, he cracked.'

She spoke eagerly as she revealed her surprising fact. ‘Flip had been seeing Brenda again and had made her pregnant. I think we'll find that it was she he kept calling when he arrived in Afghanistan. He told Ryan he was going to divorce Starr when he got back, then marry Brenda asap. He had a text on the flight home saying Brenda had gone into labour. Ryan knows nothing more. He was too taken up with his girls and the new baby, to say nothing of the wife he hadn't seen for six months.

‘We now have a good idea why Flip slept on the sofa, and he could have told Starr about Brenda on Friday evening which caused the row overheard by the neighbour.' Her brow furrowed. ‘My only reservation is that all we've been told about larger-than-life Starr suggests the row wasn't violent enough for such a confession, for it would surely have resulted in one of them walking out that night. According to the neighbour it went quiet after the sound of furniture being pushed around, and they were apparently communicating normally at breakfast on Saturday. So what else could have caused the row?'

‘If he'd told her about fathering Brenda's child, when Starr so much wanted more kids, she would have half killed him on Friday night,' reasoned Piercey. ‘But if he confessed at some time on Saturday it would give her a motive for seeing him off then. We know he was putty in women's hands. What if guilt led him to give Starr one last thrill before telling her he wanted a divorce? Cuddled up to her, he breaks the news. She grabs him round the throat and chokes the words out of him, then realizes he's dead. Panic rules. She sticks a pair of underpants on him because she can no longer stand the sight of his goolies, while she thinks what to do next.

‘First she puts the kids in the car and takes them to her friend outside the base, leaving the body at home in bed. Late afternoon, when the locals are drifting out through the main gate, and crowds are still milling around, she drives back and parks the car in a quiet spot until it's dark. She then goes to the house, puts Keane's body in the pushchair and wheels it down the stairs – she's a big woman, don't forget – and out to the car where she tips it on the rear seat. Then she dumps him in the tank.'

‘How?' demanded Heather.

Piercey grinned. ‘I've done the groundwork. It's up to you to fill in the details.'

With obvious reluctance Tom said, ‘The first part is actually a workable scenario. We're told Keane loved his kids, so he could have tried to make the break less painful by softening Starr up for what he meant to tell her before the day ended. It's happened. I knew of a woman who cooked her husband his favourite meal, then had wild sex with him before leaving while he slept off his exhaustion and went abroad with her lover.'

‘But
surely
 . . .' Heather began.

‘I said the
first
part,' said Tom. ‘It would explain the death occurring at lunchtime, and the fact that the corpse wore only underpants. We've been unable to get evidence of when either of the Keanes left their house on Saturday, and I think we've probably ruled out the idea of the body lying around for another person to find and decide to drop in the tank – for reasons as yet unknown. The actual murder and the jellyfish business
have
to be linked.'

‘The jellyfish has something to do with Brenda,' observed Beeny, always quietly thoughtful during discussions. ‘I'd guess because of the butterfly tattoos on Keane, she has a jellyfish somewhere on her body.'

‘How would Starr know about it?' said Heather, making useful input by questioning every supposition.

‘We need to find Brenda,' stated Connie. ‘Ryan Moore only knows her first name. I contacted the maternity unit at the hospital and several private homes, but no woman named Brenda had given birth there in the past week. She's a nurse, so she could have a friend who did the necessary in her own home. I also contacted the registry, but the birth hasn't yet been documented.'

‘The whole of B Company seems to have known about the woman, so one of them must be aware of her full name,' said Tom. ‘Failing that we can contact the
TA
and get the details of nurses who were in Iraq with the Cumberland Rifles. There'll be a Brenda among them.'

As that subject appeared to be shelved for the moment, Heather related her results with the knights. ‘The four I interviewed all denied riding around the base after dark, but I'd like to check out the I Corps Lieutenant, Melanie Dunstan. Very sharp, very on the ball. She admits to being in the stables for an hour shortly before midnight with Staff Fuller – another knight and on excellent terms with her boss. How excellent I couldn't decipher, but a reference to ‘the sisterhood' could be translated that way. Dunstan can't prove she left the stables and took a bath before reading in bed for an hour.

‘When I asked for her movements during the lunch break, she said, “The time when Keane was killed?” How did she know that? The general belief is that he died in the tank.'

Tom gave a faint smile. ‘We've been asking so many people where they were at that time, they've jumped to the correct conclusion. Besides, the orderlies at the Medical Centre know the truth, and info gets leaked and travels round the base like wildfire.'

‘I still think she's worthy of further attention, sir. Although she was in the stables at the vital time she didn't notice an empty stall, which I find curious because a horse would have been missing by then. You questioned Staff Fuller. Did she mention that late meeting?'

Tom nodded. ‘I asked about an empty stall. She didn't recall seeing one, and justified that by explaining that she had entered by the door nearest to her horse in the adjacent stall to Jetset, owned by Lieutenant Dunstan. The far end of the stables was unlit so she couldn't have noticed there was an animal missing.' He grinned. ‘Although she's rather butch, I'd say she's more likely to be in love with her horse than with her boss.

‘On the subject of missing horses, there are an established number on the base, and two witnesses saw one of them being ridden across the Sports Ground. Either one of the jousting knights is lying, or some other person laid hands on their gear and then sneaked a horse from its stall without being noticed.'

‘And had to return it the same way,' put in Heather.

‘Yes. Don't tell me there's another buffoon who wanted to give his wife a birthday surprise by entering on horseback and riding off with her beneath the eyes of bewildered guests.' He nodded at Heather. ‘Keep on with that. Check who each of the animals belongs to, then ask the owners some pertinent questions. Also check with the
QM
when the armour was collected and stored on Saturday evening, and ask if any member of his staff can ride a horse. We might find he's harbouring a joker in his bosom.'

Max had listened to this evidence, waiting for a session with Tom on their own. It was not exactly a wild goose, but it was curious and he wanted Tom's thoughts on it. As Olly Simpson began describing his tussle with the local German telephone authority to get a list of calls made on the Keanes' landline, Max's mobile rang. He walked to his office to take the call from Clare Goodey.

‘I've been harassing the hospital authorities on your behalf, and I'm afraid I'm now going to add to the complications of your case, Max.'

‘Go ahead.'

‘Starr Keane was a user. There was enough cocaine in her system to make her driving erratic to the point of having greatly reduced command of the vehicle.'

‘Dear God, she's been transporting her children around.'

‘Criminal, isn't it? Any info on where they are?'

‘Still waiting for whoever's minding them to call in.'

‘Shouldn't be too long now. I'm about to tackle the pathologist about Philip Keane. Let you know soonest.'

‘Thanks, Clare.'

A slight pause. ‘You can give me dinner beside the river when the case is sewn up.' She disconnected.

Max returned to the Incident Room to find Tom taking a call on the internal line. ‘Thanks, George. We'll be on it pronto.'

All eyes were on Tom as he replaced the receiver and said, ‘The Keane children are with Starr's friend in Rathausstrasse. George has just taken a call from a worried lady who was expecting them to be picked up this morning. He's informed Families Welfare, who are on the way to collect them.' He indicated Connie and Olly Simpson. ‘You two get over there and question Mrs Reiter about Starr's state of mind, her plans for the kids, what she revealed about the situation between her and her husband – anything she can tell you about the last days of Starr Keane's life.'