Last Reminder (18 page)

‘It’s a forty limit on the by-pass,’ I said. ‘And three people have been killed on it so far this year.’

‘One of them was in a stolen car.’

Presumably that didn’t count. I smiled at him. ‘Just regard it as payment for all the times that you weren’t caught,’ I suggested, turning to leave.

‘It’s all right for you, though, isn’t it?’ one of the others said.

‘What is?’

He nodded at the glasses on the bar. ‘This job.’

‘You mean drinking and driving?’

‘That’s right. It’s all right for you.’

‘No,’ I told him. ‘It’s the same for me as it is for anyone. Possibly even worse. That’s why I walked
here tonight.’ This time I made it out of the door before they could reply.

As soon as I arrived home I rang Sparky’s number. ‘Hello, Sophie,’ I said when she answered. ‘It’s Uncle Charlie. Can I have a word with your dad, please?’

‘Hello, Uncle Charlie. They’re not in. Did you see our picture in the
Gazette
?’

‘Yes, it’s good, isn’t it? Are you sending for a copy?’

‘Mum said she would, and one for you, too.’

‘That’s kind of her. Where have they gone?’

‘Urn, I can’t tell you.’

‘Oh, why not?’

‘Because Dad said that if you rang to ask where they’d gone, he’d kill us both if we told you.’

‘Honestly?’

‘He meant it.’

‘Right. Put Daniel on.’

He was right there. ‘Hi, Uncle Charlie,’ he said. ‘Did you watch the match?’

‘Never mind that. If you don’t tell me where your dad is I’m coming straight round and I’ll dig your kidneys out with a chair leg. Understood?’

‘He made us promise, Uncle Charlie.’

‘Right! And I’ll wear my flared jeans with budgie bells on the bottom and play a Bob Dylan tape while I’m doing it!’

‘Whaaa! Anything but that! I’ll tell you.’

‘Go on…’

‘They’ve gone line dancing.’

‘Line dancing!’

‘I never said a word!’

‘Right, Daniel. Let’s just call it our little secret. See you sometime.’

Line dancing! I’d struck pay dirt. This could run for weeks and weeks.

I had one shoe off when the phone rang. I clip-slopped over to it, smiling like a toyshop, willing Annabelle to be on the other end.

‘Priest,’ I growled, in my pretend officious tone.

It was Heckley control room. ‘Hi, Mr Priest,’ the duty sergeant said. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but a woman’s been asking for you. Said she’s called Lisa Davis. Do you know her?’

‘Hardly. Interviewed her husband sometime last week. Did she say what it was about?’

‘No. Wanted to speak to you and you alone. She sounded ferret and skunk to me. I’ll give you the number…’

I wrote it on the pad. ‘Cheers. I’ll give her a ring.’

‘Please yourself, Charlie, but I said I’d pass it on. One of your many fans, I expect.’

‘Work, Arthur,’ I told him. ‘You know how it is: CID never sleeps.’

I flipped the cradle and dialled the number he’d given me. She must have been sitting right by the phone.

‘Hello,’ a husky little voice greeted me.

‘It’s Charlie Priest, Lisa. You wanted me to ring you.’

After a hesitation she drawled, ‘Hello, Charlie. I didn’t think you would.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘I’m not sure. I just didn’t. Nobody seems to want to talk to me, tonight. I don’t know why.’

‘I’ll talk to you, Lisa. What can I do for you?’

‘Thank you. I could tell you were kind. I bet you’re a Virgo, aren’t you? That man at Heckley police station wasn’t very polite.’

‘Wasn’t he, by jove! I’ll have a word with him, first thing in the morning.’

She gave a little laugh. ‘You don’t mind me ringing the station, do you? I hope I haven’t got anybody into trouble.’

‘Of course not, Lisa. So what’s it all about?’

‘Oh, you know, I’m feeling a bit fed up. And lonely.’

‘Has Justin gone?’

‘Yes. Is Annabelle there with you?’

The message coming through was that Lisa Davis could be bad news. I remembered the warning Annabelle had given me. ‘No, she’s not here at the moment,’ I replied. No need to say she was two hundred miles away.

‘So you’re on your own, like me,’ she observed.

‘That’s right.’ I didn’t feel like playing counsellor
to a spoilt bitch, which was what I suspected her to be. I needed some TLC myself, but not from her.

‘Do you get lonely, Charlie?’

‘Yeah, sometimes.’ I reached down and unlaced the other shoe. ‘Everybody gets lonely sometimes, Lisa. It’s all part of life. When do you go out to Australia?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I might not go.’

‘I think you should. Justin will be disappointed if you don’t go.’

‘Him!’ she sniffed.

There was an awkward silence. She broke it, saying, ‘I’m frightened, Charlie.’

‘Frightened? What of?’

‘This house. It’s spooky up here, when you’re alone.’

‘There’s nothing to be frightened of. Why don’t you have a nice warm bath, a cup of cocoa, and go to bed, eh? Then you’ll feel a lot better.’ She had a point. I think I’d have been scared, living up there on my own, with the wind howling round the eaves like Heathcliffe on Carlsberg Special.

‘Why don’t you come up and go to bed with me?’ she replied. ‘That would make me feel better.’

No doubt about it, bits of me wanted to. I said, ‘Er, no, Lisa. I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

She sounded disappointed. Offended, probably. ‘Don’t you like me?’ she sniffed.

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘You’re a very attractive woman,
but I think we’d both regret it, afterwards.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ she declared, sounding as if she spoke with the confidence of experience.

‘Well, I would. How much have you had to drink?’

‘Just a little bit.’

She was as tight as a screw top. A thousand gallons is a little bit, when you’re talking about leaking tankers. ‘What a pity,’ I said. ‘It’s an offence for a policeman to take advantage of an intoxicated woman. Didn’t you know that?’

‘Is it?’

‘Mmm.’ I decided to change the subject. ‘How’s the parrot?’ I asked.

‘He’s lovely, but he’s not very cuddly.’

I had an idea. ‘Why don’t you stay with Justin’s parents?’ I suggested. ‘They have a big enough house.’

‘Are you joking?’ she exclaimed.

‘No. What’s so funny?’

‘Ruth wouldn’t have me anywhere near. That’s what.’

‘Oh, why?’

‘It’s a long story.’

Good, I thought. We were moving on to safer territory. ‘I’m all ears,’ I said. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘She hates me.’

‘Why? For marrying her precious son and taking him away from her?’

‘Mmm. Partly.’

‘And what’s the other part?’

‘Oh, me and K. Tom, you know.’

‘No, I’m sorry, but you’ve lost me.’ I made myself comfortable, sitting on the floor with my back against a radiator.

‘Well, let’s say I knew K. Tom a long time before I knew Justin. That’s all.’

‘In the biblical sense?’ I risked asking.

She laughed. ‘What do you think?’ she replied. ‘He didn’t insult me like you did.’

‘I’m sorry about that. It’s nothing personal. I just don’t like too many complications.’

‘It needn’t be complicated, Charlie,’ she assured me.

The last thing I needed was convincing that it wouldn’t be complicated. ‘So how did you meet Justin?’ I asked.

‘Through K. Tom. I worked as a temp for him and he was good to me. Helped me start up on my own. When Ruth became suspicious he introduced me to his stepson.’

The ultimate revenge. It sounded damn complicated to me.

‘Does Justin know about you and K. Tom?’ I asked.

‘No! Of course not,’ she exclaimed.

‘So why have they fallen out?’

‘Ah! Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘Yes. Are you going to tell me?’

‘Why should I?’

‘It’s just conversation, Lisa. Like you said, we’re both on our own, and I like talking to you.’

‘Do you really?’

‘Of course.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Wait a minute,’ I told her. ‘I’ve got cramp.’ I stretched my legs and adjusted my position. ‘I’m sitting on the floor and it’s a bit hard.’

‘Ooh!’ she cooed. ‘Tell me more!’

‘Lisa Davis, you’re a wicked lady,’ I reprimanded her. ‘Ah, that’s better. Now, you were telling me why Justin and his dad fell out.’

‘Oh, you know, it was because K. Tom asked Justin to do him a favour, and Justin refused.’

‘That doesn’t sound like Justin. He must have had a good reason. What sort of a favour was it?’

‘He wanted him to bring something into the country. Or take something out of it. I’m not sure.’

‘You mean…smuggling?’

‘I suppose you could call it that.’

‘Well, I’m not surprised Justin wouldn’t do it. There’s big penalties for smuggling drugs these days. It’s just not worth the risk. So what happened?’

‘It wasn’t drugs!’ she protested, jumping to her father-in-law, and lover’s, defence. ‘What made you think it was drugs? K. Tom wouldn’t have anything to do with drugs.’

‘What was it, then?’

‘I…I can’t say.’

‘Money!’ I announced. ‘Bet it was money.’

‘Money? Why would anybody want to smuggle money?’

‘Good question,’ I replied. ‘It does sound silly, but people do it, I’m told. Suppose you get a better exchange rate, that way. Hardly sounds worth bothering.’ I paused for a few seconds, then, as if realisation had at last dawned, I proclaimed, ‘Oh, it’d be the gold. I’d forgotten about the gold.’

‘W-What gold?’ she stuttered.

‘Never mind. No more questions. How are you feeling, now?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What did you have for your dinner?’

‘Ah! Do you really want me to tell you?’

‘I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.’

‘I had yoghurt, banana and a small jacket potato.’

‘It sounds horrible.’

‘No, it wasn’t. It was quite nice.’ She’d resorted to her little girlie voice. ‘Charlie…’

‘Mmm.’

‘Will you come and see me, sometime?’

I’d be seeing her, sometime, no doubt about it. I just wasn’t sure about the circumstances.

‘No, I don’t think so, Lisa,’ I said.

‘I thought you said you liked me.’

‘I do, Lisa. I think you’re terrific’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘I can’t make it, tomorrow.’

‘Saturday?’

‘No. I’ll be seeing Annabelle over the weekend.’

‘Then it will have to be tomorrow.’

‘I’m busy, tomorrow.’

‘I thought you wanted to know all about K. Tom. And the…you know…the stuff.’

‘You mean the gold?’

‘I might do.’

‘I don’t believe you know anything about it,’ I teased.

‘You’d be surprised what I know,’ she claimed. ‘But I’m not saying anything on the phone. Why don’t you come and see me in the morning, about ten o’clock?’

‘That’s a very tempting offer.’

‘So you’ll come?’

‘I might.’

‘Good. And if you’re a very good boy, Aunty Lisa might tell you all about…you know…
it.’

‘Right,’ I replied, my voice coming from somewhere down in my bowels. ‘I’ll do that. Ten it is.’

I let Gareth Adey run the morning meeting. Soon as it ended I strode into the CID office and said, ‘You, you and you. Inner sanctum.’ I was in a good mood. I’d changed my normal route to work in order to
drive past the local pub again. Two posh limos were standing forlornly in the car park, their windows opaque with morning dew for the first time in their lives. After my visit the silly prats at the bar had shared a taxi home.

Nigel, Sparky and Maggie followed me into my corner. ‘First of all,’ I told them, ‘I’m giving a lecture a week today at Bramshill. It’s on ethics.’ I turned to Nigel. ‘Could you have a little think about it?’ I asked him. ‘Write down a few ideas for me, if you don’t mind.’

He nodded.

Sparky gasped. ‘Ethics! You!’

‘What’s so funny?’ I demanded.

‘It’s like asking Genghis Khan to talk on road safety.’

‘Right,’ I said, pointedly ignoring him. ‘The enquiry into Goodrich’s death is over. Where are we with the Jones boys?’

‘You mean the suspect bank accounts?’ Maggie said.

‘Yep.’

‘It’s all in the reports, just like you insist.’

‘I know, but let’s hear it in the spoken word.’

Nigel said, ‘Maud and Brian reconciled three of the Jones’ lists of money in Goodrich’s book with real accounts in local banks.’

‘And where did it go from there?’

‘About half went to IGI, for diamonds. The other
half went on a variety of things: one cheque of eighteen grand to Heckley Motors, presumably for a car; some went into legitimate investments.’

‘Goodrich was a big wheel in second-hand endowment policies,’ Maggie told us.

I pulled the flip chart from the corner and handed a pen to Sparky. ‘You can be teacher, this morning, Dave,’ I told him. ‘Good night, last night?’

He grimaced at me and stood up. ‘No, bloody awful,’ he admitted, turning over the pages until he reached a blank one.

‘Sorry, Maggie,’ I said. ‘You were telling us about second-hand…endowment policies, did you say? What are they?’

‘Maud explained it to me. If someone takes out an endowment policy, then finds out that they are dying, say of AIDS, they want the money now, not after the event. The insurance company will pay them a surrender value, based on the number of payments they’ve made, but another option is to sell the policy to a third party for a lot more money. This third party then takes over the payments, and draws the full amount when the original holder pops it.’

‘And that’s legit?’ I gasped.

She shrugged. ‘Everybody benefits, Charlie. It’s a brutal world out there.’

‘The insurance companies benefit, Maggie. Why can’t they pay the full amount early, minus
payments? They’d have to, eventually, if some poor sod didn’t need the money.’

Nigel said, ‘We’re not the morality police, Boss. If it’s legal, it’s legal.’

‘OK. So what next?’

‘Michael Angelo Watts knew Goodrich,’ Sparky told us, writing the information on his chart.

‘And,’ I said, pausing for effect, ‘he also knows K. Tom Davis.’ They looked at me, inviting an explanation. ‘I had a ride round there, Wednesday afternoon,’ I went on. ‘Did a little spying. Saw him pay them a visit.’