The Disciple (15 page)

‘Drugs.’ The two agents nodded in unison. ‘We figure. Though we ain’t found any on the premises,’ said Dupree.

They watched the rest of the show like automatons until the moment the figure in black kicked the chair away from the helpless Billy. Drexler stood up from the monitor as Billy fell. ‘I’ve seen enough. He’s just a kid, for God’s sake.’

‘Give it a minute, Special Agent.’ Dupree put the tape on fast forward. When the tape returned to normal speed, the body was dangling lifelessly in space. The figure in black returned to the middle of the shot and, in a gesture that chilled the two FBI agents to the bone, turned his covered face towards the camera and affected a slight but noticeable bow. Then he walked off camera.

DS Noble was sitting at Brook’s desk, reading his copy of Burton’s book, when Brook walked into his office. He closed it sheepishly and stood up as Brook entered.

‘Sir. Welcome back. You look well. Good holiday?’

‘Fine. Don’t get up, John.’ Noble sat back down. ‘Well?’

‘Sir?’ replied Noble.

Brook gazed at Noble, calm but unrelenting, waiting for Noble to crack. In the end Brook took pity on him. ‘Is it any good, John?’

Noble smiled into the break of tension. ‘Oh, this? Total crap. Burton doesn’t have a clue. He can’t even write that well.’

‘You don’t have to put him down just for me, John. But thanks.’

‘I’m not. It’s sh … rubbish and nobody in this station will believe a word of it.’

‘No, John. Everybody in this station and probably this city, apart from me and hopefully you, will believe every word of it. By the way, my chair suits you, John. So does my office.’

Noble pushed the chair back and swivelled violently round, stopping to give Brook a sly grin. ‘Maybe. But if they keep eking out the budget the way they are, we’ll both retire as DCs.’

‘Patience, John. These things move in cycles. Any news?’

‘Nothing that can’t wait – Greatorix is still on the sick.’

‘Anorexia?’

Noble laughed. ‘You really shouldn’t, sir. His weight problem is glandular.’

‘I should have paid more attention in biology lessons, John. I had no idea the mouth was a gland.’ Noble shook his head in mock censure. ‘Any messages?’

‘Only the DPP. They’re putting back the Andrews trial. And Charlton wants you as soon as you get in.’

‘Really?’

‘I think he wants to check you’re on side about the Burton book. Don’t worry. I told him you wouldn’t piss on Burton if he were on fire.’

Brook looked at Noble with a thin smile, dismayed by Noble’s imagery but amused that Brook’s inability to get on with virtually anybody might be news to the Chief Superintendent. ‘Thanks. I hope you made it clear that wasn’t a direct quote.’

‘I’m not sure,’ mocked Noble. ‘By the way, there were a couple of new faces in his office this morning. Rumour is they’re reinforcements to fill in for Greatorix. And one of them is a bit of a looker.’

Brook repeated ‘A looker!’, lingering over the phrase with distaste. He knew he was being teased and though he actively encouraged such mocking, he still felt obliged to reproach Noble for damage done to the English language. ‘Well, we can’t say we don’t need some new blood in CID. I just hope he doesn’t want me to play nursemaid like I had to with you.’ He turned to march out of the office, ignoring Noble’s offended expression, then turned back. ‘Mark the worst pages for me, John. I’ll need to take a look.’

‘You sure?’

‘Well, unless he says something
really
mean. I don’t want to start wetting the bed again.’

Noble laughed. ‘Sorry. Did I tell you? Jason Wallis got out of White Oaks yesterday. Good behaviour.’

Brook nodded. ‘So they do learn new skills there. Did anyone inform the Ottomans?’

Noble returned a blank look. Brook smiled sadly. ‘Denise Ottoman.’ No response. ‘The teacher Jason sexually assaulted during a lesson.’

‘Right – they already know. Someone said the husband was interviewed about it on the telly. Want me to send someone round for tea and sympathy?’

‘No need. I took care of it.’

‘Sheriff, it looks like you’ve got a real interesting case here. Real interesting,’ nodded McQuarry. ‘The Tahoe Satellite Office told the Sacramento Field Office this was a Federal case, but all you got is two dead locals. Now I know it’s the Ghost Road but I’ve got to say it’s a stretch. We’ll try and help you the best way we can. Our resources are available to any PD that wants to use them. But the only way we can take this from local state police is if it involves terrorism, or we know for sure the perpetrator or victims have crossed a state line…’

Sheriff Dupree smiled at Drexler. ‘What was it you said, son? Clearing up the ground. Follow me.’

Brook knocked on the door and entered. ‘Morning, sir,’ said Brook.

Chief Superintendent Mark Charlton declined to stand up behind his desk. He rarely did when Brook entered, the contrast
between their heights causing a shift in the balance of their relationship with which Charlton wasn’t comfortable.

‘Morning.’ Charlton’s grey eyes bored into Brook in that well-practised show of openness that the lecturer on his senior management courses had tried to instil in him. ‘I trust you had a restful holiday, Inspector?’ offered the Chief Super with so little attempt at inquiry that Brook made no effort to answer, distracted as he was by Charlton’s guests who had both made the effort to stand. A man, a couple of inches shorter than Brook with a craggy, experienced face, and a woman in her late twenties/early thirties, with hazel eyes and a pretty, well-proportioned face, turned to acknowledge him. The man held out a hand which Brook, after a brief hesitation, gripped and shook quickly.

‘Hello, Joshua. How are you?’

‘I’m fine, Damen.’ Hudson smiled back at Brook and turned to give Grant a private look.

‘I didn’t realise you knew each other?’ said Charlton.

‘I saw you at Charlie Rowlands’s funeral,’ Hudson continued, as though Charlton didn’t exist, ‘though we didn’t get much of a chance to talk.’

‘I remember.’

‘A sad day.’

‘A sad day,’ answered Brook, turning to DS Grant.

‘This is my DS, Laura Grant.’

Grant, already reseated, nodded curtly at Brook, her head bowed as if trying to avoid his searching stare.

Brook sensed the antipathy in her but had grown so accustomed to the reaction from others, that it barely registered. ‘Laura – beautiful name.’

Grant blushed, with an unexpected tremor of pleasure that teetered on the brink of annoyance. ‘Thank you.’

‘Please sit,’ said Charlton. Brook noticed the extra chairs and made for one. Clearly this meeting had been planned. ‘Now DCI Hudson and DS Grant have come all this way to see you, Inspector
Brook and, as I have a liaison committee to chair, feel free to use my office.’

‘Thank you, Chief Superintendent,’ said Hudson, already turning his sights on Brook.

Brook held his gaze, staring back without emotion or apparent curiosity. Brook knew why they’d come.

‘Inspector Brook. I will need to speak to you about this Brian Burton book this afternoon. I’ll be back in the office at three p.m.,’ continued the Chief Super. ‘In the meantime I’ll leave you to it.’ Charlton was now forced to stand. To his discomfort, everyone else stood too and he became flustered, keen to flee this land of the giants. As soon as he could manoeuvre himself to the door, he scuttled out.

‘Shall we sit down, Inspector?’ suggested Hudson.

Brook fell back onto the padded chair and crossed his legs. ‘Call me Damen.’

‘Damen.’

‘Thanks for agreeing to talk to us.’

‘I haven’t agreed to talk to you.’

Hudson and Grant looked sharply at Brook. Hudson broke into a quick smile.
‘Would
you agree to talk to us, Damen? Strictly informal at this stage.’

‘No problem. What’s going on in Bromley that you need to come all this way to see me?’ asked Brook, without a semblance of interest. ‘We’ve had telephones here in Derby for months.’

Hudson couldn’t suppress a chuckle, but Grant smiled coldly. ‘I transferred out of Bromley eight years ago, Damen. I moved to Brighton for a quieter life. Fat chance, eh?’ Hudson and Grant locked eyes on him for a reaction, but Brook was completely impassive. There was silence for a moment before Hudson spoke again. ‘Your ex-wife and daughter live there. Aren’t you worried that something may have happened to them?’

‘You wouldn’t have driven two hundred miles just to break it to me,’ said Brook softly.

‘I suppose not.’

‘In fact, we saw them recently. They’re in good health,’ added Grant. ‘Emotionally they’re not too good.’

‘Really,’ said Brook.

‘You see, your ex-wife’s husband, Tony Harvey-Ellis, is dead. He drowned in the Channel.’

Grant and Hudson were mildly shocked to see Brook’s thin smile.

‘What a pity. Drowned, you say?’

‘Yes.’

‘However, it wasn’t an accident.’

Brook’s smile faded. ‘He was murdered?’

‘It looks that way,’ nodded Hudson.

‘Drownings are almost always suicides when they’re not accidents, Inspector,’ added Grant. She glared intently at Brook.

Brook smiled and nodded, pleased that they’d tried to wrong-foot him. ‘You clearly didn’t know him, Laura. Someone as smug and self-absorbed as Harvey-Ellis could never kill himself.’

‘You still haven’t asked about your ex-wife and daughter,’ observed Hudson.

‘You don’t think Amy and Terri were responsible, I hope?’

‘We’re keeping an open mind.’

‘Well close it. They couldn’t have been involved. They wouldn’t have the strength to drown a man – especially someone as powerful as Harvey-Ellis. He was a rugby player at one time.’

‘Maybe not to hold someone like Harvey-Ellis under the water,’ agreed Hudson. ‘But a smack on the head with a baseball bat wouldn’t be beyond either of them.’ Brook said nothing. ‘You don’t seem to dispute your ex-wife and daughter might have had motive.’ Brook shrugged. ‘Can I assume then that you know about the affair between Harvey-Ellis and your daughter?’

Brook narrowed his eyes and sank further into the chair. Grant noticed his hands clenching into fists. ‘You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t certain I knew what was happening, would you?’

‘Honestly, no,’ said Hudson. ‘Out of interest, how did you find out about the affair? Did your ex-wife confide in you?’

Brook looked away. ‘I’m a trained detective. I found out. Leave it at that.’

‘You seem uncomfortable discussing this, Inspector,’ said Grant. ‘How would you feel?’ Brook glared at Grant. ‘Virtual strangers asking questions, about my daughter and her…’

‘Affair.’

‘Can we not refer to this as an affair? Affairs are for adults. Terri was fifteen. Harvey-Ellis is a predator. Was.’

There was a long silence while Hudson and Grant let Brook simmer. ‘Strong feelings feed strong motives,’ added Grant eventually.

‘Which makes me the prime suspect.’

‘Is that a confession, Damen?’

‘No.’

‘Any normal father…’ blurted Grant, then stopped, annoyed with herself. Hudson had been very specific about avoiding any hint of an accusation. She apologised to her boss with a look.