Behind Closed Doors (20 page)

Hanlon shook his head. ‘You're talking nonsense, Flynn.'

That had never stopped me before.

‘The thing has been puzzling me,' I said. ‘Why does someone need to raise cash so fast? To be honest I can't help thinking about dodgy business deals. Payoffs. Has your company been getting into something it shouldn't?'

Hanlon shook his head like a mastiff shaking fleas. ‘Let's stop messing around, Mr Flynn,' he said. ‘If you have something to tell me then spit it out. Otherwise I'm going to end our discussion. I'm a busy man.'

‘Okay,' I said. ‘The option I'm actually looking at is that someone was threatening your family. You've got a girl and a boy. Was one of them a target? Was either of them taken?'

Hanlon forced a laugh. ‘So that's it,' he said. ‘Wild guesses. Illegal business deals. Kidnappings! I don't know what the hell your Mr McAllister is up to but you're barking up the wrong tree. The man has absolutely no connection with my family. Never has had. And now we're through.'

‘What did you say about children being taken?'

Faye Hanlon had walked into the room a few seconds before. Her husband turned rapidly.

‘Mr Flynn has nothing,' he said. ‘He's on a fishing trip, looking for connections to some criminal he's chasing. The whole thing is ridiculous.'

Faye Hanlon was in her early forties but worry lines added a decade. Maybe the lines came with her job. Like her husband, she didn't look like she took nonsense from anyone.

‘Why do you ask about children being taken?' she demanded again. She tried to back up her husband's bluster but there was a shakiness in her voice.

‘We've found a connection between your family and one we're working with,' I explained. ‘Ours has been targeted by a criminal gang in the kidnapping business.'

Faye Hanlon's eyes widened.

‘Has someone been abducted?' she asked.

I nodded. ‘A young girl. Her name is Rebecca Townsend. She's been missing for over a week.' I watched Faye's face. ‘Right now we're trying to find the people who have her.'

Faye's hand went to her mouth. David Hanlon moved to her side. He spoke softly.

‘The man is scaring us gratuitously,' he said. ‘He's absolutely no proof for anything he's saying. Our children are under no threat.' He gripped his wife's shoulder. ‘Remember that!'

He turned to me.

‘Mr Flynn, we're through.'

I smiled. Scaring people gratuitously. We should add it to our Yellow
Pages listing. But Hanlon was right. I was through. I thanked them for their time and turned to walk out.

At the door I turned back to Faye Hanlon. ‘Whom did they take?' I asked. ‘Clarissa or Harry? Am I right thinking it was your daughter?'

Faye's hand shot to her mouth and Hanlon stepped between us, his face colouring.

‘That's it, Flynn!' he said. ‘I want you off my property right now!'

I let him manhandle me to the door. I had what I'd come for. The McCabes' denials yesterday had been puzzling because they smacked of truth. They had threatened to demolish my theory. The Hanlons' denials smacked of desperation. Put me right on the mark. It was time to take this thing to the Slaters and force their hand.

Hanlon opened the front door with an extravagant firmness but I stopped and held up a photo. A final shot.

The picture poleaxed him like garlic bread on Dracula's dinner plate. Hanlon's jaw had dropped before he could control it. He knew Tina Brown all right.

‘You probably don't know her real name,' I said, ‘but you remember the face. We have her at the Royal Trafalgar that night with you. She's missing too. Any ideas?'

Hanlon got himself back under control. Apart from his too-straight face you'd never know he was coming up for air.

‘Stir up trouble with me, Flynn,' he growled, ‘and I'll sue you for everything you've got.'

I nodded: ‘Sure. But if there's something I should know sooner, rather than later, you have my card.'

Hanlon said nothing as I trotted down the steps. I flicked him a salute as I climbed into the car. We'd be meeting again. We both knew it. I jabbed the key into the ignition. The engine clanked over but refused to start. I tried again, cranked it for twenty seconds while the battery drained to a dying chunter. I watched Hanlon through the chipped windscreen and kept my face straight. I relaxed the key and held off for a moment then pressed my foot delicately all the way to the floor. If the carb flooded that was it. I turned the key again. One last shot. The engine chuntered as woefully as before but then it caught and spluttered to life on three cylinders. The vehicle shook like a spin dryer with a brick inside but it was going. I found reverse and tried to look cool as I backed out, careful not to damage the Citroen's bodywork on Hanlon's Bentley.

As I drove away I watched Hanlon in my rear-view crumpling Eagle Eye's card in his fist and tossing it aside.

I drove back to Paddington and parked in Gerry Lye's unused spot next to the Frogeye. Gerry had a point about his space. The tarmac had bubbled alongside the burned out vehicle and the broken glass didn't feel too good under the ZX's wheels. Shaughnessy's Yamaha stood on the far side of the Frogeye, clear of the debris.

Lucy gave me a sympathetic look when I went in. I'd had the Frogeye when the two of us were together. The car had memories for her. I poured coffee and stirred in powder and sugar.

‘I couldn't believe it when I saw it,' Lucy said. ‘It looks like you've upset the wrong people again, Eddie.'

‘All part of the job,' I said.

‘That was a good car,' she said.

‘Yeah,' I said, ‘but you should see the replacement.' I sipped the coffee. The hot-plate light was on but the coffee was stone cold. The machine was back to normal.

‘You've got new wheels already?' Lucy asked.

‘Wait till you see, Luce. You'll be begging for a ride.'

‘You know I'm a girl who likes fancy wheels,' Lucy said. She grinned her heartbreaker. Flirting already. I wondered if she was serious. Wait till she saw the colour.

‘Anything new?' I asked.

‘Utilities-final-demand stuff or detective stuff?'

‘Detective. I'll save the tough business till next week.'

‘Next week we'll have no electricity.'

‘Is that what they say?'

‘And there's a reconnection charge.'

‘Bloodsuckers! Pay them.'

‘What with?'

‘Don't get technical, Lucy,' I said.

‘That's what you always say.'

‘And you always find a way.'

‘I don't know how you guys would stay in business if I wasn't here.'

‘We wouldn't, Luce. You're invaluable.'

‘So are you going to give me an invaluable salary to match?'

‘One day, Lucy, I'll dress you in diamonds.'

‘Wow, Eddie! You sure know how to treat a girl!'

‘I'll even take you for a ride in my new car. Just promise not to touch anything.'

‘I won't. But don't expect any funny business.'

Not in the ZX I wouldn't.

Shaughnessy came out of his office and I told him what I'd got. The Hanlons had had a child taken, despite their denial. And David Hanlon recognised Tina Brown.

It was time to give the Slaters a choice. Tell us everything, let us help, or have the police in the house within the day. We had enough to convince the Mets that a major felony was under way, with Rebecca Townsend at its centre. The only way the Slaters could keep the police out was to bring us in. And if we decided that the police were needed anyway then we'd call them in, with or without the Slaters' permission. Simply blocking us out was no longer an option.

‘I'll call Slater,' Shaughnessy said.

I nodded. ‘I'll let Gina know what we're doing.' I slid behind Lucy's desk to make the call while Shaughnessy went to prod Larry Slater out from his Islington office.

Before I could pick up the phone my mobile rang.

I looked at the screen. Sadie Bannister. I almost let it go but then wondered if it might be better to know what she was up to rather than have her jump me. I hit the pick-up against my better judgement.

I'd expected frantic. Heard it.

‘Eddie,' she screamed, ‘is that you? Did you hear?'

Did I hear? My blood frosted. We'd been chasing around in circles since yesterday, convinced that we were finally spiralling towards the girl. But there was also the chance we'd hear bad news at any moment.

‘Calm down, Sadie,' I said. ‘What happened.'

‘She's back!'

‘Rebecca?'

‘Yeah! She's okay!' Sadie's volume rose past my pain threshold. I held the phone six inches away. ‘I can't believe it,' she screamed.

Lucy watched me. Sadie's voice was loud enough for her to get the conversation even without her paranormal powers. ‘Becky's okay!' Sadie yelled. ‘She really was ill! All that time! Do you believe it? I just want to kill her!'

I looked at Lucy and switched on my Shit-Eater. Did I believe it? Sure I believed it. It was crazy but I believed it.

‘When did you hear this?' I said.

‘Right now. I'm just off the phone.'

‘Rebecca called you?'

‘Yeah!'

‘She confirmed that she's been ill?'

‘Yeah! I went like totally mad that she'd not been in touch, but Becky said her load had run out and she'd been too ill to top up. She only got out of bed yesterday.'

‘Out of bed at home?'

‘At her aunt's. But not her Aunt Kathryn. I didn't know she had another.'

Neither did I.

‘How did she sound?'

‘Down. Like when you've been ill? But she's okay, I guess.'

‘Well, that's great,' I said. ‘I'm glad you told me, Sadie.'

Sadie's voice dropped. ‘Maybe this just got out of hand, Eddie,' she said. ‘It seems kind of stupid now. Becky was gobsmacked that I'd had a bunch of private detectives after her.'

‘Don't worry about it, Sadie,' I said. ‘You weren't the only one fooled. The family didn't help anyone.'

‘Are they going to be mad at me?'

I thought about this.

‘We'll talk to them,' I said. ‘They've no reason to be mad.'

‘Thank God it's over,' Sadie said.

‘All's well that ends well,' I quipped. Original to the last. I told her we'd speak soon and cut the line.

Shaughnessy had come back out.

‘Slater's not answering,' he said. He looked at me. ‘Was I hearing that right?'

I nodded. ‘The girl's back. Apparently she's never been missing.'

Shaughnessy looked at me.

I flipped the Citroen's keys and he followed me out onto the stairs. Shaughnessy had always hated the Frogeye. Today he was in for a treat.

Shaughnessy made out that he was cool with the ride but I saw his eyebrows lift as we came round the back of the building. He slid himself into the car like he might catch something off the upholstery. I went through the start-up ritual and we pulled out onto the street.

The weather had switched again, and the sun shone out of a blue sky. I wound the window down but the staccato of the blowing exhaust hurt my ears. I wound it back up and turned on the fan. The fan didn't work but a wash of warm air slid from under the dashboard. I killed the control. I almost flicked the radio on to hide the rumble of the big end bearings but the thought of what might come through the speakers dissuaded me. We rode along in silence, jounced by the engine alternating between three and four cylinders. Shaughnessy was looking around the interior as if I'd bought a turd from the dogs' home.

‘What are we going to say?' he said finally.

‘I'm more interested in what the Slaters have to say to us,' I told him.

‘I don't see them saying anything.'

I'd been chewing the thing over. Our plan had been flawless. March into the Slaters' and hit them with all we had. It would be their choice: let us in or have us throw a spanner in the works. A good plan whilst their daughter was missing. Not so attractive now that the girl was there to prove that we'd been dreaming the whole thing. We'd just got warmed up and the final whistle had blown. Game over. Another case solves itself under the threat of Eagle Eye's attention. We'd feel good if we knew what had happened. The real riddle was what to say in Gina Redding's billing report.

‘Let's see what gives,' I said. ‘I want to see some evidence that the girl actually is safe. I want to know if there's still a threat to other families. I also want to know who torched my car, why we're riding around in this shit-heap. That's the thing I don't understand. If this really is a kidnap–ransom thing and McAllister was about to send the girl home then why stir things up by attacking me?'

Shaughnessy shrugged. ‘He probably assumed you wouldn't follow up. At the end of the day it was just a car.'

I turned to look at him. He was staring ahead through the chipped windscreen, sitting ramrod straight to keep his clothes off the upholstery. Maybe the Sprite didn't seem so bad to him any more.

‘The Frogeye means nothing,' I said. ‘I'm going to bring the house down over whatever's happened to Rebecca. And to the Hanlons. And whatever McAllister has got lined up for some other family. Not to mention the dent this thing has made in Gina Redding's bank balance.'

‘You think Gina will pay us?'

‘Maybe not. We might have to kidnap the girl again.'

We reached the Slater house. Larry's Lexus was parked askew by the steps, as if he'd arrived in a hurry.

I parked the Citroen under cover of the vehicle to protect our street cred. When I killed the engine the thing backfired to clarify the issue. We got out and walked over.

The front door was opened with the speed reserved for unwelcome visitors. Larry Slater's face backed up the impression. I had a nice opening line ready but Slater got his in first.

‘Holy shit,' he said, ‘you guys take the biscuit.'

I gave him a friendly nod. ‘Good afternoon, Larry. Meet my partner Sean Shaughnessy. Do you have a few minutes for us?'

Slater ignored Shaughnessy.

‘You've got ten seconds to get off my property,' he said, ‘then I'm calling the police.'

Ten seconds isn't very long. A ten second spiel must be good.

‘Larry,' I said, ‘if we leave here without answers I'm going to come back tomorrow morning and see if your wife can help us figure out why your Lexus spends half its time parked in Holland Park. See if she knows anyone by the name of Tina Brown.'

Slater took it in then shook his head like he was shaking off something too stupid to comment on.

‘Go ahead,' he sneered. ‘Tell Jean about Holland Park.' He sounded confident that he could bluff his way through.

‘And while I'm at it,' I said, ‘there's some stuff I'll bring along. Copies of your Amex account – the ones with the Blueglades payments and the Royal Trafalgar bills. Will your wife explain those too?'

Cheap but to the point.

The phoney indignation dropped right off Slater's face. ‘You've been through my Amex bills?' he gasped. ‘You broke into my office? Holy Christ, I'll have your balls!' He pulled a mobile out of his pocket. ‘I'm on the phone right now, Flynn!'

His response was disappointing but at least we were through the ten second barrier. We just needed to find a way past Slater's defensiveness so we could talk about the things that mattered. We needed some way to persuade him not to make the call.

‘If you touch that phone,' Shaughnessy said, ‘I'll break your fingers.'

Slater stopped with his finger poised over the keypad. He gave Shaughnessy the goldfish look.

I looked at Shaughnessy too. Why hadn't I thought of that?

Shaughnessy followed up with a stare that told Larry he meant what he said. I switched back to reason.

‘Larry, we need to talk,' I said. ‘If we know what has been happening then maybe we can help. This isn't just your family. There are others.'

‘Other families?'

The voice was a whisper from behind Slater. He turned and made shooing motions. ‘Leave this to me,' he said.

She came forward into the light. A slender teenager with her mother's face. The same high cheeks and pretty eyes but pale, her hair a mess. Right then the illness thing looked credible. But there was something in the girl's face that wasn't caused by the flu. This wasn't someone bouncing back. Rebecca Townsend just looked sad.

Slater made to shoo her again but she swiped his hand away. She looked at me and her face softened into a sad grin.

‘You're the gumshoe,' she said.

I grinned back. ‘Yeah,' I said. ‘We're the detectives. I guess Sadie told you she had us out looking for you?'

Slater moved to get back in control. He made a grab and pulled Rebecca back and tried to close the door. But the door wouldn't close on account of Shaughnessy's foot. Behind Slater, Rebecca was saying some unladylike things. Slater snarled back at her then suddenly something snapped. He yanked the door open again and was out. His finger jabbed in my face.

‘Stay right there, Flynn. The cops are on their way.' He keyed his phone, broken fingers forgotten. Shaughnessy sighed and stepped forwards. He shouldered Slater out of the way and took the phone from his hand and we followed the girl into the house. Slater strode after us, yelling, but Rebecca was yelling right back, and finally the girl's anger got through to him. Slater's shoulders dropped as he stood facing his stepdaughter. A puppet with its strings cut.

‘Let them talk to me,' Rebecca said, ‘or I'll go right out and talk to them. And I swear I'll tell them everything.'

Before Slater could reply Jean appeared from the back of the house. She put her arm around Rebecca's shoulder, pulled her gently away. Her voice was weary. ‘No, Rebecca,' she said, ‘we don't want you to talk to anyone.' She looked at me and Shaughnessy. ‘Why don't we sit down for a moment?'

Larry Slater swore again but no one was listening. We followed Jean through to the lounge. She sat down with Rebecca beside her. Shaughnessy, Slater and I all stood.

‘Whatever you're looking for,' Slater said, ‘there's nothing here. Whatever misinformation has had you stalking us the last week has been a waste of your time and somebody else's money.'

‘Gina's,' Rebecca said. ‘She hired them.' She looked at me. I nodded and raised my eyebrows, tried to take some of the tension out of the moment. ‘Your friend Sadie was rather insistent,' I said. ‘And Mrs Redding was kind enough to retain our services.'

‘And all for nothing,' Larry Slater snapped. ‘We told everyone that Rebecca was ill. We explained that she needed time to recuperate. But some people just don't listen.'

I was watching the quiet smile that played on the girl's face while Larry talked. The smile was for Sadie and Gina. It must feel good to know that someone cared.

Jean Slater came in to back up her husband. ‘Mr Flynn, we're sorry for the mix-up. The wires just got crossed. Rebecca has already explained everything to Sadie.'

Talked to her. Explained nothing.

‘Mix-up or not,' Larry Slater said, ‘this investigation thing needs to stop. We're asking you again to respect our privacy. And now that you can see our daughter is safe maybe you'll tell Mrs Redding to stop wasting her money.' He stared at me. ‘End of investigation.'

‘The investigation ends,' I said, ‘when we decide.'

Slater's mouth set hard. ‘Then you're fools,' he said. ‘And I won't hesitate to call the police.'

I turned to Rebecca.

‘Are you okay, Rebecca?'

She looked at me but said nothing. Jean answered for her. ‘She's still tired,' she said, ‘but she's fine.'

I kept watching Rebecca.

‘It's okay,' I said. ‘We know the people who took you. You don't need to be afraid of them. They won't touch you again.'

‘Stop!' Larry Slater said. He stepped between me and the girl. His anger had boiled back up. Jean Slater's eyes were closed.

‘How many times must I repeat myself,' Slater said. ‘Get off our backs. There is nothing here for you, Flynn. I won't tolerate any more of this harassment.'

He would have said more but his rant was broken by an exaggerated gasp from Rebecca. She stood up behind him. He turned to face her and the two of them locked stares until Jean Slater opened her eyes and clenched her fists.

‘Stop it!' she commanded. ‘You're tearing us apart with all of this.'

I didn't know if she was speaking to Rebecca or to her husband. Or to me. I still watched Rebecca. She finally unlocked stares with Larry and turned to us. The half-smile was there again.

‘Private detectives,' she said. She shook her head. ‘That Sadie is one crazy bitch.' The smile stayed on her face as she walked out.

‘Okay,' Larry Slater said. ‘That's it. Please pass on the message to Gina Redding.'

‘First we've got to write a report,' I said. ‘It would help if we could clarify a few things with you.'

‘Report?' Slater said. ‘What the hell can you report? You still don't get it. There is nothing to report.'

‘I was hoping,' I said, ‘I could get some pointers from you. To clear up loose ends.'

‘Jesus.' Slater looked at his wife, but she returned a stare that could have cut steel.

‘Your daughter was abducted by a man named Paul McAllister,' I said. ‘Now she is back. Therefore we assume that you've recently handed over a large sum of money.'

Slater shook his head but said nothing.

‘I also assume that it was you who tipped Paul McAllister off after I came to see you.'

Slater shook his head again. ‘You're flying blind, Flynn. No one has abducted our daughter. And I don't know anyone called Paul McAllister.'

McAllister was a guy a lot of people didn't know.

Shaughnessy had strolled across the room and was inspecting a Rothko print on the far wall.

‘Don't lie to us, Larry,' he said. ‘We have evidence that you've been in contact with the man.'

‘We've also got similarities between your family and another one,' I said. ‘A family who also had links to McAllister and who also raised some fast cash a few months back.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.' Slater's eyes were wide in phoney confusion.

When I spoke it was to Jean Slater. ‘The other family has a teenage daughter too,' I said.

Jean's face stayed expressionless but I sensed the turmoil behind the mask.

‘What was the cash for, Larry?' Shaughnessy asked.

Slater let out a laugh that broke even as he forced it out. ‘You're way off centre,' he answered. ‘Are you two never going to quit?'

‘The
Lode Star,
' I said. ‘Is that off centre?'

Slater's lips curled. He shook his head.

‘What I do with my money or belongings is none of your damn business. Is that all you've got?'

I thought about it.

‘There's the Amex thing,' I said. ‘We could discuss that in more detail.'

‘Amex?' Jean looked at her husband.

Slater gave it the best he had. His indignation was worth an Oscar. ‘It's nothing,' he hissed. ‘These two idiots are chasing shadows. And I can't believe I'm in my own house listening to this! Okay. Time for the boys in blue. Or are you still going to break my fingers?' he sneered at Shaughnessy.

Shaughnessy said nothing.

Slater stalked out of the room and went for the hall phone. His mobile was on the coffee table in front of us, but maybe he thought that picking that up would provoke Shaughnessy.

It looked like we were through. No point waiting for the coffee and cakes. Most jobs have better perks. I turned for a last word with Jean Slater.

‘We've not finished with this,' I said. ‘Whoever is still threatening you, we're going to run them down.'

Explaining to Jean about the Amex charges was not going to help. We walked back out to the front door. As he passed, Shaughnessy took the phone out of Slater's hands and set the receiver back in its place. Slater said nothing.

I dropped Shaughnessy back at the office so he could pick up his Yamaha. He came up to get his stuff. Lucy was waiting and I gave her the gist of things. Our next step was to talk to Gina Redding so that she knew that her own commitment was over.

The investigation would go on, though.

Shaughnessy and I had agreed that on the ride back. We had three facts. One: we had an extortion racket involving at least two kidnappings to date. Two: McAllister was behind the racket. Three: there was no reason to think that McAllister was about to wind up his scheme. We also had a few doubts. We still didn't know if the escort Tina Brown was part of the plot or a victim.