Gone Tomorrow (28 page)

He looked permission to his colleagues and took her a little to one side. ‘Look, love,’ he said confidingly, ‘it was me Ev was talking to on his mobile. I want to find him to protect him. I don’t know how much he told you, but it’s not me he’s on the run from. If his ex-boss gets to him before I do, he’s in deep trouble, you know what I mean? He was here, wasn’t he?’

She looked uncertain, which was enough for him.

‘Where’s he gone? What scared him off? Did someone come for him?’

‘Nah, he fought someone was coming, the tosser, but it was only a customer for one of the girls downstairs,’ she said with the usual ripe contempt of a pro for anything in trousers. ‘But he went anyway. He said you’d trace his call.’

‘So where did he go?’

‘I dunno. He never said.’

‘Come on, love. It’s for his own safety.’

‘Straight up, I don’t know where he went. And I don’t care neither,’ she added. ‘It’s nuffing to do with me.’

Slider sighed and tried again. ‘Look, if you know where he’s gone, or even where he might be, it’d be better for you to tell me. Don’t forget, if I could trace his call, his ex-boss might be able to. He might be round here soon asking the same questions, only he won’t be nice about it, d’you know what I mean?’

She looked alarmed. ‘Oh, blimey, I told him not to come here! But I had to let him in. He was good to me in the old
days. Now what’s he gone and done, the silly sod? What’s he got me into?’

‘Tell me where he’s gone. It’s the only way to help him.’

‘I don’t know. That’s the trufe. If I knew I’d tell you.’

Slider believed her now. ‘Well, you might want to get away from here for a few days. Have you got somewhere you can go?’

‘Me sister’s,’ she said after a moment’s thought. ‘I can stop wiv her for a bit.’

‘All right. But just think for a minute – did Everet ever mention anyone called Susan?’

‘I dunno. Maybe.’ She shook her head, evidently trying to be helpful now. ‘I’m tryna think.’

‘Was she a working girl?’

‘Susan.’ More brow furrowing. ‘Wait a minute, was it Susie Mabbot? She run this posh house down Notting Hill, introduction only, you know the sorta thing? Businessmen an’ escorts. I never worked for her, but Ev knew her from way back. Maybe that’s who you want.’

‘I’ve checked with all the main renting agencies for central London,’ Swilley said, ‘and there’s two that specialise in letting to American service people and embassy staff. One of them – Hughes Garvey – pricked up their ears all right when I mentioned our Mr Bates. He apparently has quite a few nice properties they handle for him on short leases, mostly flats but one or two houses – including that one in Loftus Road, which he’s only just given them.’

‘And what do they think of him?’

‘I didn’t get the impression they knew him personally, only that he’s a respectable businessman and very astute. Yanks are favoured tenants and letting to them’s the top end of the market, so you’re looking at nice properties and everything done above board. The US Government’s very particular about the way their people behave when they’re abroad, so when you let to one of them you’ve got Washington and the Pentagon standing guarantee.’

‘Yes, I see,’ said Slider. ‘You couldn’t want a better reference than that, could you?’

‘No, boss,’ Swilley said. ‘It looks as though Mr Bates is squeaky clean.’

‘Yes,’ said Slider.

‘And the business with the jacket is just coincidence.’

‘That’s right,’ said Slider.

Swilley eyed him. ‘All of which convinces you that he must be a villain, right?’

‘Right.’ Slider smiled ruefully. Am I just being perverse?’

‘I’ve known your hunches to come off before,’ she said politely.

‘But?’

‘But just be careful, eh, boss? If this bloke is clean and he finds you’ve suggested otherwise – well, he doesn’t sound the sort to let bygones be bygones. If he hasn’t got a tame lawyer up his sleeve I’m a monkey’s uncle.’

‘Nothing simian about you,’ Slider said. ‘I wonder who paid for David Stevens to appear at Sonny Collins’s elbow?’

‘Wondering’s free.’

‘If we could establish some link between Sonny Collins and Mr Bates …’ Slider mused. Swilley waited. ‘Look, if this bloke’s that big, there must be some biographical information about him somewhere. Try the newspaper morgues,
Who’s Who –
you know the form. All the usual places. Anything about his past and his private life you can dig out.’

‘Okay.’

‘I wish we could find the girl. No nibbles on her yet?’

‘The usual number, I should think.’

‘Nibbles, not nipples.’

‘No, we haven’t scored with the name Teena Brown, but of course she might have changed it again. You think she’s important?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Boston’s certainly worried about her, and it may not all be family feeling.’

‘Well, we’ll keep looking.’

‘Right. Meanwhile, Atherton’s out being urbane at the Cultural Legation, and Sonny Collins is being watched. Not that I think that will produce anything. If they’re as careful as Everet Boston thinks, nothing will be passing through Sonny Collins for the time being. They’ll have frozen that bit of the operation.’

‘If Collins is the key, why not just get him in and lean on him again?’ Swilley suggested.

‘It wouldn’t do any good. He’d just sit us out. We’ve got to
get more information, something we can really hit him with – something that scares him more than the Needle does.’

‘And what might that be, I wonder?’ Swilley speculated.

‘Maybe it doesn’t exist,’ Slider admitted.

‘All right, settle down,’ Slider said. The sunny spell had broken at last, and outside the windows the sky was a uniform blank off-white, depthless, as though the whole world had been enclosed in Vitrolite. It was still warm though, and the troops had all taken off their jackets, letting loose a faint prickle of male sweat into the air to compete with six different aftershaves and Norma’s
Eau de Givenchy.

‘First of all, I’ve got some sad news. I’ve been informed by Mr Palfreyman that Mr Porson’s wife died in hospital last night.’
There was a murmur of comment. ‘I know he has the deepest sympathy of every one of us. I think we should send him a card to that effect.’

‘I’ll do it, boss,’ Norma said.

‘Thanks. Get everyone to sign it and come to me for his home address. Now, I imagine that means we won’t be seeing anything of him for a day or two more, but it would probably cheer him up if we could get a result on this Baxter business, so let’s see what we’ve got.’

Hollis took over. ‘Our first suspect was Eddie Cranston, because he’d had a fight with Baxter. But we’ve got no evidence against him.’

‘I think Eddie’s too much of a plonker to have done it and not give himself away,’ said McLaren.

Swilley performed an introduction. ‘Pot – kettle. Kettle – pot.’ McLaren made a face at her.

‘I can’t believe it’s Eddie,’ Atherton said. ‘I think he just stumbled over the corner of the operation because of his beef with Lenny Baxter. Remember the very first interview with Collins? He didn’t mind giving up Eddie’s name, while he denied all
knowledge of Lenny. He was happy for us to go and investigate Eddie’s little games because it led us away from the real danger.’

‘Also,’ Swilley said, ‘his alibi is Carol Anne Shotter and she seems to be completely straight. Not that women haven’t lied for men before now—’ She waited for the whoops to die down. ‘But she comes across all right and everyone I’ve spoken to who knows her thinks she’s honest.’

‘All right, let’s put Eddie aside,’ Slider said. ‘Next up is Everet Boston.’

‘His alibi checks out as far as it goes,’ Hollis said. ‘He was definitely in the Snookerama snooker hall – half a dozen witnesses – but nothing to say where he was after one o’clock. He could have got back to the park by about half past, and we don’t know for sure exactly when Baxter was killed. And we know he had a motive – some kind of ill-treatment of his cousin Mary, aka Teena Brown.’

‘As against that,’ Slider said,
‘he
came to
us
with information, which he’d hardly have done if he’d offed Lenny. And he’s apparently now scared for his life and in hiding.’

‘I don’t think he did it,’ Swilley said. ‘What you said is right, boss. He wouldn’t have come forward if he had. He came forward because he had a beef against Lenny that he wanted to air. And there’s no evidence against him anyway.’

‘There’s no evidence against anybody,’ Anderson pointed out.

‘Which makes it more likely that it was a professional killing, punishment by the gang,’ Swilley went on, ‘which is what Everet said.’

She looked round to gather opinion, realised that no-one was looking at her and swivelled in her seat. Detective Superintendent Porson was standing in the open doorway. The sight of him had frozen the entire room in shock. It was not that he looked utterly drawn and about a thousand years old – anyone might have expected that – but that he was not wearing his wig. His high bald dome was pale and strangely bumpy, and the few wisps of grey hair round the edges seemed only to emphasise the nakedness, as pubic hair contributes to pornography. It was somehow indecent. All these years he had toted the appalling rug about, denied its existence and vented his fury on anyone who so much as looked at it, let alone mentioned it; and now he had simply
abandoned it. If he had stood there totally starkers with his dangly bits on parade it could not have caused more consternation.

Slider rallied himself. It was too bad for everyone to be staring at the old boy. He scraped up a voice and said, ‘We weren’t expecting to see you in here today, sir. We heard the news. I know I speak on behalf of everyone when—’

‘None o’ that,’ Porson said sharply, cutting him off with an imperiously lifted hand. His pink-rimmed eyes swept the room. ‘Consider it said. We’ve got work to do. I’ve had Mr Palfreyman on the dog, chewing my ear off. He’s not as compunctionate as you lot, apparently. He’s agitating to take this case away, given I’ve taken my hand off the steerage. Fulsome apologies and all that, but wouldn’t it be better under the circs, de-dah-de-dah. So let’s get on with it. I haven’t lost my marbles yet. I can still out-copper any bastard with a degree in sociology.’ He quelled Atherton’s rising comment with a look and nodded to Slider. ‘Carry on where you picked up.’ And he sat down on a desk at the back of the room, forcing them all to turn their heads away from him.

‘All right,’ Slider said, and with an effort caught hold of his thread. ‘That brings us to Sonny Collins, who on the surface of it looks very tasty. However, he has no criminal form.’ He looked at Hollis. ‘Have you managed to get anything on his service record?’

‘Yes, guv. That was interesting. He was in trouble a few times for fighting, but nothing major. The best bit comes at the end. He was in a shore-based posting in Hong Kong and got in a fight one night outside a bar with a local. The other bloke produced a knife and stabbed him. That’s when he lost his eye, apparently. In retaliation Sonny hit him under the chin so hard it broke his neck. Well, all hell let loose as you might expect. There was the civilian police enquiry as well as the naval one, and questions asked right up to the Governor and the diplomatic bag.’

‘Be more respectful of the Governor’s wife,’ Atherton said sternly.

Hollis resumed. Anyway, the other bloke was a known troublemaker and already wanted by the Hong Kong police on several other counts. So, given that witnesses saw him get Collins with the knife, and his mates swore Collins wasn’t carrying –
which he was known not to – it was brought in self-defence. When Collins came out of hospital he got his discharge on medical grounds and there was no court martial. Otherwise he couldn’t have stopped in Hong Kong, o’ course.’

‘Did he?’ Slider asked.

‘Opened a tattoo parlour in Kowloon, ran it for a couple of years before coming home and going into the licensed trade. Must’ve tattooed a few tars in his time there. Maybe he did his own neck. I’m wondering what other services he offered as well as the skin pics.’

‘Yes, that might be worth knowing. Any way you can follow it up?’

‘I’ll have a go,’ Hollis said. ‘I might be able to trace some of his mates.’

‘Okay. Well, Collins is tasty, and he denies knowing Lenny Baxter, though Eddie Cranston was sure enough that Lenny was a regular at the Phoenix to wait for him there; and of course Eddie says Collins called Lenny by name. And there’s Everet Boston’s statement that Collins was the gang control for both him and Lenny Baxter. Which all looks nice and suspicious.’

‘But Collins has got a good alibi,’ Anderson said.

‘Not for the whole night,’ said Mackay.

‘For the likeliest bit,’ Anderson asserted.

‘Yes, what about that alibi?’ Slider said.

Atherton looked at him patiently. ‘I know you don’t like it, but if Collins actually did the killing he’s not likely to have arranged himself an alibi up to four o’clock and then gone a-murdering afterwards, is he?’

‘And besides,’ said Anderson, ‘we’ve got that Elly Fraser bird’s statement about the two heavies walking down Frithville Gardens at two o’clock, which is right in the middle of his alibi time.’

‘We don’t know they were the killers,’ Swilley said. And don’t forget there was a report from one of the residents saying there was no chain on the gate when he came home from the pub just after midnight.’

‘Yes, but that’s not what he said the first time his door was knocked on,’ Mackay pointed out. ‘He only came up with that after the telly appeal. Probably just wanted to make himself important. You know how they do.’

‘I don’t think Sonny Collins actually did the killing,’ Slider said to Atherton. ‘But I still don’t like that alibi.’

‘Guv, I think it’s genuine,’ said Anderson. ‘Liam the barman at the Shamrock remembers very well, because he said Sonny Collins hadn’t been in for months, and when he did come in, he never stayed that long, just had a couple of drinks to unwind and went away. And Liam was the one called the cab for him, so he knows what time he left. And the cab company confirms the booking, and the driver identified Collins and said he dropped him outside the Phoenix about ten past four.’