Becky thought for a moment.
‘How about police and fire brigade officials are treating the blaze as suspicious. One man remains unaccounted for, something on those lines?’
‘That’d be alright.’
‘What do you think about it?’
‘I don’t know.
Could be connected with Appleyard’s politics.’
‘I went to that meeting he held for
Westlea residents.’
‘You mean the one where he was heckled for his “Britain for the British” ideas.’
‘Heckled, my arse.’
Nash blinked in surprise. ‘You’ve an extremely pretty
arse, but why do you say that?’
She told him what she’d seen. ‘After they were ejected they all went off together. Hecklers and bouncers, I mean.
Matey as could be. It was all rigged. I tell you, the whole evening was scary. Do you know what it reminded me of?’
‘No idea.’
‘Those old black and white newsreel clips of the rallies in Germany before the war. It was just like Nuremberg, on a much smaller scale. The way everything was stage managed, the message itself and the air of menace.’
There was a long silence. Becky looked across at him. Nash appeared lost in thought. She hoped he was paying attention to the road.
‘Good God.’ Nash took his foot off the accelerator abruptly.
‘What is it?’
He put his foot down again. ‘Nothing. Just a crazy notion.’
‘Tell me?’
‘Later.’
Nash wandered around the Gazette offices whilst Becky finished her piece. ‘Come on, Mike. Take me home. I’ll make coffee. You can tell me your crazy notion.’
They sat in Becky’s lounge. Dawn was already breaking. ‘It was when you mentioned Nuremberg, I thought of The Reichstag.’
Becky looked baffled. ‘Explain,’ she demanded.
‘I can’t remember the exact dates,’ Nash admitted. ‘I think it was in the early 1930s. The Reichstag was the German parliament building or something like that. Anyway it burned down. The Nazis blamed Communists for it. That was how they tricked their way into power. Later it was proved that the Nazis had done it to discredit the Communists.’
‘Right, I understand that. But I still don’t see the connection.’
‘Suppose Appleyard was in that office. I think we’ve got to assume he died in the blaze. If he died as a result of an arson attack, who’s most likely to get the blame? His opponents, those who disagree with his politics. People would come flocking to the cause in droves. So what if it was his people who were behind it?’
‘That’s one gigantic leap of logic. Aunt Gloria said you were dangerous. Is that part of what she meant? She said you were a brilliant detective. Is that how you do it?’
‘By thinking the crime through? I guess all detectives do that. I remember as a kid reading a lot of Edgar Wallace books. One of his detectives’ favourite sayings was, “I have a criminal mind”. I reckon you have to think like a criminal to catch them.’
‘That’s all very well, but how do you prove it?’
‘Even supposing my crazy notion’s true, finding out who actually ordered the fire is going to be well nigh impossible.’ Nash stood up and stretched. ‘I’d better go, let you get some sleep.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Go to the office, I suppose. There doesn’t seem much point in going home.’
‘You can stay here if you want.’
Nash looked at her. His pulse raced. ‘You mean that? But earlier, you said...’
‘My couch is just as comfortable as yours.’ Becky smiled.
Despite his weariness Nash was awake again in what seemed like minutes. He glanced at his watch and saw that he’d actually managed almost two hours’ sleep. The early morning sun was streaming through the window, but that wasn’t what had woken him. He sat up, stiff from the unaccustomed posture. He was troubled by a stray thought, an elusive memory; something that had happened the previous day.
He began pacing the floor in an effort to remember. It was after almost ten minutes of fruitless exercise that he made the connection. The realization caused him to sit down abruptly. He puzzled it over, then stood up and marched over to Becky’s bedroom door. He knocked and waited. Getting no reply, he knocked again. ‘What is it?’ Her voice was heavy, drugged with sleep.
‘Becky, get up. I need to talk to you.’
‘Alright, alright.’ There was a world of reluctance in her tone. ‘Put the kettle on. I’ll be out in a minute.’
She joined him in the kitchen. Her hair was tousled and her eyes half closed against the bright morning sun. She was wearing a
towelling robe that appeared comfortable but was hardly the height of fashion. Nash thought she looked lovely. ‘I’m regretting allowing you to stay,’ she grumbled. ‘What’s the fuss about?’
‘Sorry to be a nuisance but this can’t wait. I was going over what happened at Grove Road yesterday. I want a woman’s perspective on it. Let me explain.’ He did so, in a few concise sentences.
‘I see where you’re coming from,’ she agreed after thinking it through. ‘And I believe you’re right. But why the urgency?’
‘Because the way fires are being started round here, I don’t want to arrive and find the place a
smouldering ruin.’
Chapter twenty
Becky reappeared, dressed in jeans and T-shirt. ‘We’ll go to the station first. Collect Mironova and Pearce. Vickers as well.’
‘I hate to quibble, but have you noticed the time?’
Nash glanced at his watch again. It was only 6.35 a.m. ‘Oh hell,’ he said in exasperation. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.’
Becky gave him a pitying stare. ‘Toast okay? Or muesli?’
‘Toast, please.’
As she was waiting for the toaster to deliver, Becky asked, ‘I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but why are you including me? I could understand yesterday. But you seem prepared to let me in on details I thought were confidential.’
‘You’ve been involved since the fire at Tucker’s flat. It’d be ungrateful to exclude you, after you saved my life. And you’re the chief’s goddaughter, which makes you special.’ Nash smiled warmly. ‘Apart from that, I like having you around.’
‘Oh. I see. Well, that’s alright then.’ Becky turned to take the toast out. It gave her time to recover her composure.
Clara strode into the CID suite, her mind absorbed with the text message she’d just received. ‘Mike,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’m glad you’re in early. I need a
favour.’
She noticed Becky. ‘Oh, sorry, I’ll catch you later.’
‘I asked Becky along because I’ve had another idea about Grove Road.’
‘You never rang the poor girl at this hour because of one of your weird ideas, did you? Mike, you’re impossible.’ She turned to Becky. ‘I’d have put the phone down.’
‘Er...it wasn’t like that.’ Becky was scarlet.
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’
‘No, you don’t. You’ve got a filthy mind, Clara. Becky was at the fire. It was late when we finished last night, so I slept on her sofa.’ Nash glared at his sergeant.
‘If I’ve got a filthy mind, it’s because I’ve been around you too long.’
‘Anyway, what’s this favour you want? The one you’re so tactfully leading up to?’
‘If it’s personal, I’ll leave.’ Becky stood up.
‘It’s not private.’ Clara turned to Nash. ‘David’s got a few days’ leave.’ She squirmed as she continued. ‘Could I take some holiday? I realize it’s bad timing.’ Her eyes pleaded with him.
‘Normally I’d say yes, but it’s not that easy. Let me speak to Tom.’ Nash winked at Becky. ‘Aunt Gloria did say she’d given orders that I’d to have backup.
‘Now, to business. I’d like you to fetch Vickers from the cells. When Viv arrives, we’re going back to Grove Road.’
‘I’ll nip to the
loo,’ Becky said. ‘My system’s not used to a gallon of coffee before sunrise.’
Clara watched her go. ‘She’s really nice. I hope you’re treating her properly, Mike.’
‘I daren’t do any other.’
‘I suppose not. Why are you letting her get so close to the investigation?’
‘It just happened. And it could be a blessing in disguise.’
‘How come?’
‘With King desperate to have me out, an independent observer could be extremely handy. If it came to an internal enquiry, an unbiased witness would be a godsend, if you’ll pardon the pun.’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘The saddest thing is that it’s necessary.’
‘Gary, before I explain, I want to ask you a couple of questions.’
Vickers blinked at the use of his Christian name. ‘Okay,’ he agreed cautiously.
‘Stacey told you about the photos. Not specifically, but she told you of their existence.’
Vickers nodded.
‘Have you remembered what she said?’
‘Not really. I’ve been trying to recall her exact words. I thought it might give me some idea what the proof was.’
‘But you knew she’d hidden it?’
‘Yes. I’d been at a series of exhibitions featuring my work.’ Vickers saw the puzzled expression on his listeners’ faces. He explained. ‘I was a freelance graphic artist. She told me when I got back.’ He sighed. ‘The last show was in Bristol. I got home late.
Gemma was away that night, so Stacey and I had the house to ourselves. It was only two days later that...’ Vickers’ voice tailed off. He was on the verge of tears.
‘How was she? Did you notice anything different about her?’
‘Yes, she was on edge. More than that, I’d say she was frightened. It seemed odd. I knew she was worried about her mother, but it was more than that. When she died I was too upset to think about it. By the time I did, I was stuck in a prison cell.’
‘For a murder you didn’t commit,’ Nash said quietly.
Vickers looked up. ‘You believe that?’
‘Oh yes.’ Nash made it sound matter of fact. ‘
Which makes it doubly important that you try to remember. We’ve a killer to bring to justice. A murderer who I believe has killed again. So think, Gary, what was it made you certain she’d hidden something?’
‘Stacey cooked supper and when we went into the dining room she’d
parcelled that picture up. She said ...’ Vickers paused. ‘She said, “It may not be valuable now, but one day it could be worth a lot.” There was something else too, but I can’t remember.’
‘She said it might be worth a lot? Not a lot of money?
Just worth a lot?’
Vickers leaned forward, a frown of concentration on his face. ‘No, she definitely didn’t mention money.
Not exactly, but something to do with money. What was it?’ He stood up and began pacing about.
He stopped suddenly.
‘Insurance! That was it. She said it might be valuable as insurance. I thought she meant I might have to insure it. I said I’d put it on my contents policy. But then she said, “It’s our insurance policy. Yours and mine.” She wouldn’t explain. I can’t understand how I forgot that.’
‘You were under a lot of stress. But what you’ve said reinforces my idea. I thought it strange that Stacey left those photos without an explanation.’
‘I don’t get you, Inspector.’
‘I reckon we’ve only found half of what Stacey hid. I think we should look again. This time we should search for a note or a letter.’
When they stood up, Pearce reached for his handcuffs. Nash shook his head. ‘Gary’s no longer under arrest. Tell the custody officer he’s being released without charge.’ He turned to Vickers. ‘You’re free to go, but I’d like you to consider staying here under protective custody. With all that’s going on, you’ll be much safer.’
‘No, thanks, I’ve had enough of prison cells.’
Nash was relieved to see the house was intact. As they were getting out of the car his mobile rang. ‘When do you think he’ll be needed? Right, leave it to me. I’ll get on it straightaway.’
‘Doug Curran,’ he explained after he ended the call. ‘Go on in. I’ll follow after I’ve spoken to Mexican Pete.’
‘Professor, Nash here. There was a fire last night. CFO Curran’s in charge of the scene. One man’s unaccounted for. The building will be safe to enter late this afternoon. Can you be there around 4 p.m.? We’ll need a forensics team too.’
‘You seem to be going in for barbecues in a big way,’ Ramirez told him. ‘Will you bring Clara to dispense gin and tonic?’
Nash hurried inside. Clara glanced at him. ‘Mexican Pete on form then?’
‘As you’d expect. Talking about barbecues and G&Ts.’
‘Our pathologist has a macabre sense of
humour,’ Clara explained to Becky.
‘I know. I’ve spoken to him.’
‘Clara, I suggest you start upstairs, along with Gary and Viv. Becky and I’ll start on the ground floor.’
Nash and Becky spent most of the first hour re-examining ornaments and more photo frames. Nash went into the cabinet that housed Vickers’ music centre. He hauled the collection of CDs and albums out. I don’t think anything’s been touched since Vickers went inside.’
‘He’s certainly a Beatles fan,’ Becky commented as she looked at a pile of LPs.
‘Pearce reckons that’s the opposite of cool.’
The trio returned from the upper floor. Clara shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nothing.’
Nash shook his head stubbornly. ‘There’s got to be something. Stacey wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble without some sort of pointer.’
He saw Clara was far from convinced. ‘Forget all you’ve read in the file. We know different. We have to work on Gary’s version. That means there’s something more than the photos.’
Becky said slowly, ‘It would have to be somewhere Gary would go regularly, but somewhere no one else would find it, even by accident.’
‘That makes sense,’ Clara agreed. ‘She’d have to hide it from casual discovery, especially if it was a smoking gun.’
‘That’s it!’ Vickers yelped. ‘That’s what she said! She said it was a smoking gun. I couldn’t understand it. Then she started laughing. I couldn’t understand what she thought was funny.’
‘What was her sense of humour like?’ Nash asked. As he spoke he began sorting through the LPs.
‘She loved subtle, double-meaning jokes. Why?’
‘I wonder if this was an example of her sense of humour.’ Nash looked around, his expression brooding. ‘I wonder...,’ he murmured.
‘What are you on about?’
Mironova asked.
Nash ignored her. ‘Did
Gemma share your taste in music?’
‘No, she was into punk and heavy metal. If I put a Beatles album on she’d walk out of the room.’
‘Did you have all your LPs transferred to CD?’
‘No. I never got round to it.’
Eventually Nash reached the one he was after. He removed the record from the sleeve and laid it aside, slid his fingers inside the LP cover and removed a sheet of paper. He turned the cover over. ‘There’s your smoking gun.’ It was The Beatles’ Revolver album.
‘It seems so obvious afterwards,’ Vickers muttered.
Clara laughed. ‘Well, it isn’t, unless you’ve got a devious, twisted mind like Mike.’
Nash spread the letter on the table. ‘This is addressed to you, Gary. Do you want to read it or do you want me to?’
‘I should do it. I owe Stacey that.’
My dearest, darling Gary,
I hope you never have to read this. I’m afraid, desperately afraid.
Afraid for us, and for the future. I’ve done something that’s put us in danger. I did it because I couldn’t see any other way for us to be together, and free. Free from her. I hate her. I didn’t realize it until now. I hate and fear her. That’s a terrible thing to say about your own mother. Not that I think of her like that. That’s because she’s never treated me like a daughter. To her I was merely an expensive encumbrance.
And now I know she hates me. How do I know?
Because she told me so, when I confronted her. It took ages to pluck up enough courage, but in the end it was the only option. I haven’t told her about us though. Not yet. If she found out that we’re lovers, I dread to think what would happen. Not that she cares about you; she’s got other fish to fry. But she’d use our love as a weapon. My greatest fear is for you, my darling, because of her, and my uncles. I couldn’t put you in that sort of danger.
I told her I knew what she was doing, and who with. I told her I had proof. I said I was quite prepared to take that proof to his wife. If that happened he’d be ruined. And that would end their sordid little affair. It was then I found out what she’s capable of. It was then I began to be afraid. She heard me out. Then she calmly got to her feet, and before I knew what she was going to do, she had her hands round my neck, choking me. Her language was vile. She called me all the filthy names you could think of. She told me if I valued my skin, I’d to hand over the proof and forget the whole thing. I hadn’t realized until then how unutterably evil she is. I truly believe she would carry out the threats she made.
I feel so lonely now. I need you here. I need your strong arms around me. To love, and protect me, and to reassure me. Without that I’m terrified of what will happen. So I’ve made a decision. I’ll go to her lover and tell him what I told her. Perhaps that will stop her. It’s my only remaining choice.
I’ve concealed the proof of what they’ve been up to. That’s how afraid I am. It’s hidden inside your present. Whatever happens, my darling, I will love you forever.
Stacey.
Vickers looked up. Nash almost shuddered at the venom in his expression. ‘Who is he? You know, don’t you?’ he demanded. ‘One of them killed Stacey. I don’t know which, and I don’t much care. It’s irrelevant. But I’ll tell you this, Mr Nash, I’ll find out, and if you don’t make them pay for what they did, I will.’
Nash tried to placate him. ‘I understand your anger, Gary, but issuing threats like that isn’t going to help anyone.
Least of all you. And don’t forget the purpose of this letter. Stacey wrote it to protect you. She wouldn’t want you endangering yourself, or doing something you’d suffer for afterwards.’
‘Does that mean they’ll get off?’
‘I didn’t say that. Up to now we haven’t a grain of evidence against them. I admit it won’t be easy. They’ve had fifteen years to cover their tracks. All we can do is start working on the case as of now.’ Nash pointed to the letter. ‘We’ll use this as a starting point.’