Play Dead (12 page)

‘Emily, educated, cultured, tremendous CV - so what's she doing with a shady, hamster-faced object like Leo?' Helga asked. ‘People on that committee must have been wondering that for yonks. And now the puzzle gets really strong. The rumours about Leo have always circulated, but lately they're in regiments. They're in regiments because Harpur and Iles are here, you're here, and Dathan, the Chief, is edgy. Some on the committee have important connections in London and might have heard that Maud is warpathing again and wants you to write up the situation for the
Epoch.
'

‘With the massive and unstinting help of Helga Ormond.'

‘What I can, I will.' Helga pursed her lips, frowned, winced, bared her teeth, which looked like her own, projected her chin. It was as though she wanted to check she still had control of her entire face and features, despite the tipples. And Cass thought that, if she could manage this satisfactorily, she would assume her mind behind the face and features must be in normal shape, too. For whatever was coming next she wanted to sound cogent, not addled: wanted to
be
cogent, not woozy. She said: ‘Noreen.'

This sounded like another of those helpful section headings. ‘Someone called Noreen?' Cass asked.

‘Noreen, yes.'

‘On the museum committee?'

‘Noreen Laucenston-Isson. Family money through kitchen design. Lineage traceable back to somebody minor but definitely there in the court of Victoria. An hon. Noreen is the sort who'd have views about Leo. Well, of course, many have views about Leo. Noreen might voice them, and voice them to Emily. I don't say Noreen would be insulting or rude face to face, but she'd have a sort of classy way of commenting which would get the insults and rudeness over to the listener, such as Emily, without actually spelling them out. Emily's perceptive, sensitive. She'd pick up what was being said while not being said.'

Perhaps all those phizog contortions really worked and helped restore Helga to accurate, well-ordered speech. She'd got the Noreen surname right, as far as Cass knew; done ‘perceptive' and ‘sensitive' OK; and could outline quite well the difference between explicit insults and rudeness, and oblique insults and rudeness. Cass said: ‘You think Emily will start wondering about Leo herself, because of Noreen Whatever?'

‘Because of Noreen and others,' Helga said. ‘We're discussing something as grave as murder of a police officer here.'

‘But, as grim topic, the murder of a police officer has been around for a long while. Emily seemed able to live with this suspicion, didn't she? And the conviction of Jaminel would help her do that, wouldn't it?'

‘Maybe. But I can imagine Noreen pointing out to Emily, without seeming specifically to point it out to Emily, that the Jaminel conviction was a
start
to the clean-up campaign, not its
end.
An overture. Noreen would most likely play at sympathizing with Emily, calling the revived investigation “a bore”, for her. When people like Noreen dub a situation a bore it doesn't mean that it's boring. Emily would probably
like
the situation to be boring - that is, going along as untroublesome and ignorable as ever. When Noreen brands something “a bore” she's saying it's a pain in the arse, is frightening - very - a threat, a potential catrostrophe
.'

She'd got through what came before ‘catrostrophe' very well, and Cass continued with his benign policy of non-correction. It was brave of her to make the shot at a blatantly tricky word that could lead to catastrophe in speaking it, or catrostrophe. She could probably have done ‘disaster' or ‘holy fuck-up' instead of catastrophe, to perfection. He felt strengthened by her and downed the Tia Maria without qualms. He said: ‘You think Emily could be the means to get Leo, do you?'

‘Big pressure on her. This is a woman not without morality, though hitched to a high priest of villainy. She might want to change things.'

‘Will Harpur and Iles realize this?'

‘Iles sees plenty, doesn't he?'

She stood, seemingly without difficulty. Cass paid and followed her out, and was also all right. ‘Shall I walk back with you?' he said.

‘I'll be fine.' She put the tam back on, as if to prove she was equipped for no matter what conditions Fate or Life or both might fling at her.

‘Right. And thanks,' Cass said.

He called for a taxi and sat on a low wall outside The Platter, waiting.

H
arpur said, ‘I had a quick look around the room of David Lee Cass, the reporter who's booked in here. Top-quality Samsonite luggage and not just one but three electric toothbrushes. Nothing of any significance, though, really, except a note to himself, neat copperplate, reminding of an appointment he's fixed with the Larkspur police Press officer later today. This lad knows about protocol.'

‘Those card-in-the-slot hotel room keys are pitifully easy to fool, aren't they, Col?' Iles said.

‘Lockbust Ferdy back home.'

‘Ferdy? Yes?'

‘Showed me how to work a card, before we sent him down for doing a complete corridor in The Angel
.
Luckily I saw Cass's name in the hotel register,' Harpur replied.

‘You had a quick look at that, too, did you?'

‘I suppose we could have guessed he'd come to Larkspur again.'

‘
How
could we have guessed it, Col?'

‘A sort of follow-up to his previous. As soon as he heard we're back here he'd see possibilities. They're driven, these investigative stars. Driven.'

‘But
how
would he hear?' Iles said.

‘These things get about.'

‘How do they get about?'

‘Oh, yes,' Harpur said.

‘Maud leaks? Purposeful leaks? You have a weird affinity with her, don't you? Does she seem the leaking kind?'

‘Or someone close.'

‘A secretary?'

‘I suppose Maud would have a secretary, even several. Maud's big stuff, isn't she?'

‘I don't know what kind of stuff she is, Harpur. You?'

‘This Cass. He's formidable,' Harpur replied. ‘Stickability. Intuition. That kind of approach. And, yes, driven. International Press awards for furthering the human cause.'

‘Which?'

‘Human.'

‘D'you think he sees the perils here?' Iles said.

‘Routine for them. Danger's built in to that kind of job, isn't it?'

‘Has he got family?'

‘There were framed pictures of kids in his room.'

‘Wise to put himself at risk?' Iles asked. The ACC could get like this sometimes: motherly. Harpur found it disgusting.

‘And there was that game old bird, Helga, who helped point him in the right direction last time,' he said.

‘The sun shone out of her medallion - reflected. We'd better sit in on Cass's interview with the mouthpiece.'

‘The Chief won't like that.'

‘No, he won't. Hard cheese, as Orwell might say.'

‘He came out with all sorts, didn't he, sir?'

‘Who?'

‘The one you mentioned.'

‘Orwell?'

‘That's the one. It's a river, isn't it - like they call a Welshman, Taff.'

‘Have you heard of him, Col?'

‘Some of these people - they know the exact phrase to hit on in a situation,' Harpur replied heartily. ‘Because, you see, sir, hard cheese is still indisputably cheese, but not very pleasant, especially for those who like their cheese soft, as with, say, ripe Camembert. Hard cheese has to be put up with, though, from time to time. Those two words “hard cheese” contain all that meaning!'

‘No need to dot the i's and cross the t's, Harpur.'

‘Ah, that's another of those spot-on phrases, sir.'

‘Fuck off, Harpur. That's another.'

At the headquarters meeting, Dathan, the Chief, also sat in. The Press officer had a spacious room with a long, impressive, solid oak conference-style table. Harpur thought it was probably all meant to show the force took relations with the media seriously and that only the double-checked truth would be put before them here. They sat in chairs around the table, the Press officer at the head. She introduced herself as Inspector Ruth Bowles and said she would read a statement first and take questions from Cass afterwards. She was plump and friendly-looking, probably not far off retirement age, obviously knowledgeable about what could and could not be said, and aware that the people in front of her today, and on other days, knew she was bound by the unyielding rules of what could and what could not be said. Truth had to be sanitized, redacted. Her voice for the statement was conversational, matter-of-fact, take-it-or-leave-it, as if she recognized this was not great oratory, but so sodding what, and roll on pension day.

She said: ‘I know I speak for the Chief when I say how happy we are to have the present unsatisfactory situation on our ground examined and, I'm sure, remedied, by the two distinguished officers from outside.'

Dathan muttered, ‘Indeed,' and gave an endorsing nod each to Iles and Harpur, an unflamboyant ‘Thank you, pals,' for striving to drop him and his outfit in the shit.

‘But perhaps I should state what I mean by an “unsatisfactory situation”,' she said. ‘Unsatisfactory in the sense of aftermath.'

‘So true,' Dathan said.

‘This aftermath stems from a past, grave crime - a murder - for which a police officer was found guilty and sent to prison,' Ruth Bowles said. ‘Although that would have seemed to close the matter, some felt certain aspects of the case stayed unresolved. A shadow of doubt fell, unsettling, even demoralizing for all in the force.'

‘True, again,' Dathan said. ‘Yes, beyond unsettling. Demoralizing.'

‘Morale, an item to be cherished, protected,' Iles replied.

‘And so, we are grateful and relieved to have the two officers who helped us with the original case return now and recommence their investigation, though with perhaps a wider remit,' she said. ‘We trust that - but, no, we are
confident
that their second intercession will have as result a final clearing of the air. Fortunately, we have absolutely nothing to hide.'

‘Nothing,' Dathan said. ‘Fortunately. This is not to criticize those who have commissioned the new inquiry, not in the least, but I think we are bound to feel unthreatened by it, unresentful of it - though not smug or complacent - because we know that nothing but good can come out of it for us.'

‘There are times when it is a very positive matter to be given a fresh, blazingly impartial view of what might have become overfamiliar factors for those in the host force,' she said.

‘Certain shortcomings might be tolerated because they have taken on a kind of time-blessed status unrelated to their real value. Such complacency can be identified and swept away by the likes of Mr Iles and Detective Chief Superintendent Harpur. For this necessary service we shall be extremely thankful.'

‘Extremely,' the Chief said.

‘Ultimately, they will draw a line in the sand and enable us to move on,' she said. ‘To that end, we shall offer full and positive cooperation with the two officers.'

‘One hundred per cent cooperation,' the Chief said. ‘To put this at its most selfish, it is in our interests to make such an offer, for it will remove the traces of taint and guilt that have quite unwarrantably lingered here too long.'

‘Harpur will get at these traces, believe me,' Iles said. ‘He's famed for giving short shrift to traces. It's coded on his personnel documents: SSTT.'

‘Any faults that may be found will be immediately and vigorously corrected,' Ruth Bowles said. ‘Though we expect nothing of that sort to come to light, because they do not exist.'

‘And would already have been dealt with if they
had
been located earlier,' the Chief said.

This seemed to Harpur an exceptionally powerful description of nothing at all: there were no faults and, even if there had been, they'd gone now. Was Maud wasting her own time as well as his and Iles's?

Cass said: ‘Although it is obviously a pleasure for you to have Mr Iles and Detective Chief Superintendent Harpur here again, I believe you didn't actually suggest this second visit, did you?'

Dathan had a big, worldly, charmless laugh. ‘Now isn't that just like a newspaperman? He listens to our version of things and as a first response tries to pick holes in it! Well done, Mr Cass. You admirably abide by the precepts of your trade.'

‘Not to pick holes,' Cass replied, giving a very pleasant smile, to match Dathan's geniality. ‘It's just that I need to see the sequence of things.'

‘Sequence! Oh, sequence. Who did what and when, d'you mean?' the Chief said.

‘This can be important in some instances,' Cass said.

‘Possibly, possibly,' the Chief said.

‘What I mean is, the push for the second investigation came, didn't it, not from you, Chief, but was ordered by the Home Office, and you . . . you, well, concurred, as you would be obliged to?'

‘You've been talking to Maud Clatworthy, have you, up there in London?' the Chief said. ‘Or more likely listening to. Or - another or - more likely listening to that PA of hers, Daisy Something. Daisy Fenton. A famed carrier of tales for a fee.'

‘Daisy Fenton?' Cass said. Harpur thought it a pretty poor pretence at ignorance - the bafflement in Cass's voice and on his face badly overdone. Then he said: ‘It would change the complexion of the investigation, wouldn't it, if you had suggested to Maud that the case should be reopened, rather than Maud ordering in the two outside officers as a personal initiative.'

‘Complexion?' the Chief said. ‘In what manner?'

‘Well, as Inspector Bowles said, you have nothing to hide and therefore would have no objection to a second look at the situation.'