Joint Enterprise (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 3) (6 page)

‘I think so. I don’t think it’
ll need stitches. Nasty bump though.’

‘Then, thank you. You can go.’

‘Thanks, Lucy,’ said Ramsden.

She collected up her bag and slipped out.

The other male was still standing. He was barely out of his teens; a nervous looking callow young man, probably straight out of university.

‘Problem?’ said Romney.

‘Do you need me?’

‘No, off you go,
Craig,’ said Crawford.

‘Hang on,’ said Romney. ‘I’ll decide who stays and who goes. This is a police matter now, Mr Crawford.’

‘Oh, it’s Mr Crawford now is it? What happened to Crayfish, Inspector?’

‘If it makes you happy, I can call you Crayfish, but I think proper names would be more appropriate now that we have a death to investigate. Time to grow up a bit, eh?’

Crawford snorted, showing who he thought needed to grow up.

Romney ignored it. ‘Who are you and why are you here?’

‘My name is Craig Stoner. I work in here. I’m doing an internship. Learning about the industry.’

Romney nodded.
‘Slave labour in other words. When did you arrive?’

‘I got back after Lucy. I came in to find her
seeing to David.’

‘Why were you absent if this is your work station?’

‘We got a message that there was one more reel to collect. David sent me off for it.’ Romney indicated his understanding. ‘But there wasn’t,’ said the youth. ‘When I got down to the camera crew they said they’d already sent everything up. There was no other reel and they said they hadn’t sent a message saying that there was.’

Romney looked towards Ramsden and raised his eyebrows.

Ramsden held his hands up. ‘That was the message I got.’

‘How?’

‘On the communications handset that we use.’ He picked up a walkie-talkie and waggled it.

‘Who was the message from?’ said Romney, voicing the question that just about everyone else was thinking. Whoever got the lad out of the tent and out of the way could reasonably be expected to help the police with their enquiries, especially as there was no film to collect.

‘No idea, sorry. It was just a voice. I didn’t recognise it if that’s any help and I know most people on this set by their voice.’

Romney made a noise of disappointment. ‘How many people would have access to one of those handsets?’

‘Dozens and dozens. Anyone could have picked it up. They’re lying around all over the place on a film set and most of us are all wired up for comms anyway.’

Romney looked hard at the youth once more. ‘You didn’t see anyone carrying anything that could have been the missing film when you came back?’ The young man shook his head. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary at all?’ Again a negative. ‘OK,
Craig. You can go, but if anything occurs to you come and find one of us.’

The
young man walked out. Romney had made his point. Authority had been asserted.

‘And then there were three,’ said Romney, making the additional point that he and Marsh were not part of the group under the spotlight. ‘Right, just so that we’re all clear and in agreement on the facts
, let’s just recap can we? DS Marsh spoke to you, Mr Crawford, about getting all your footage together for us.’ Crawford nodded. ‘The film was all brought here especially.’ Ramsden raised his index finger to interrupt. Romney let him.

‘This is where all the film is kept anyway. It wouldn’t have had to be brought here from another location. It’s brought straight from the cameras to here and labelled, recorded and stored.’

‘Thank you,’ said Romney. ‘Is that common knowledge?’

‘It would be among the crew and anyone who was a regular around film sets.’

Romney seemed satisfied. ‘Good. So, you, Mr Ramsden, were sorting out the film for us when you received an anonymous message telling you there was another film that needed collecting and bringing up. Correct?’

‘Correct.’

‘Did you know there was film unaccounted for?’

‘No. What I mean is, I hadn’t checked off what I had against what I was expecting by then.’

‘Isn’t it someone’s job to bring film from the camera to here? I mean, I would expect that when scenes are shot, especially big scenes, then that film is potentially worth a lot of money and not worth the risk of being allowed to go astray.’

‘Absolutely, every remote camera has an appointed body whose responsibility it is to get that film back to a secure central place. On this shoot, it’s here.’

‘So why would someone just call up and say they had a film? Where was it by the way?’

‘Camera four. It’s
out on the battlefield. It’s unusual, but it’s not unheard of. People are absent from their posts sometimes, maybe through illness, or a more important errand.’

‘Seems a bit sloppy
if you don’t mind me saying so?’

‘It’s a system that works
, Inspector,’ said Crawford. ‘Everyone on the set is trying to make a film. They are all part of the big film making machine. No one is here to obstruct the process.’

‘Someone was, Mr Crawford.’

‘I think that you know what I meant.’

Romney smiled. He was feeling suddenly quite affable. ‘How long have you been doing the job that you do, Mr Ramsden?’

Ramsden made a face. ‘Twenty years or so.’

‘How many times have you known remote cameras to call up and say that they have film to be collected?’

Ramsden opened his eyes wide and puffed out his cheeks. ‘Very few. I can’t actually remember the last time. But it does happen.’

‘And what about entire filmed scenes being hi-jacked? That’s to either of you.’

‘Never,’ said Ramsden

‘Never,’ echoed Crawford, wearily. ‘Security has always been too efficient in the past.’

And now everyone was looking at ex-Detective Sergeant Wilkie.

‘Samson Security want to say anything at this point?’ said Romney

Marsh looked for the first time in Wilkie’s direction, something she had pointedly avoided doing since arriving. He was sitting stone-faced, clearly not relishing his position or presence. She wondered when she would see something of the old Wilkie, the spiteful, nasty Wilkie. It had to be there simmering, just beneath his professional exterior. And the way they were setting him up for the fall she expected his restraint to be weakening.

‘Yes. I’ll say a couple of things. While I’m sitting here listening to all this I am not able to get on with my job of trying to find out what happened to the missing film and recover
ing it. How many reels of film are missing?’

‘Five. That’s every camera’s recording of the battle. They were all helpfully labelled for whoever took them,’ answered Ramsden.

‘How big are they?’ asked Wilkie.

‘They were all in their metal cases. Big discs. You’d need a decent size
d box for them.’

‘One person carry them all right?’

‘Yeah.’

Wilkie turned his attention back to Romney and the DI felt those legendary blue eyes bore into his own. ‘It’s an inside job. It has to be. And it has to be someone who knew that because of the incident on the field security presence up here was depleted because the police had requested our assistance to secure the perimeter of the battlefield. I did have a man up here
, but when the call to help the police came through, he was someone who I thought we could spare.’ He was doing a half-decent job of worming himself and Samson Security out of their responsibilities, thought Marsh.

Instead of Romney taking the path of cooperation
, harmony and least resistance, he somewhat predictably, chose the opposite, felling Wilkie’s significance and value as a contributor with a cruelly manufactured dismissal. ‘Well it’s a police matter now, Brian. Thanks for your time. I’ll get someone to come and take a statement from you if I think it’s necessary. Samson Security might as well go and get on with whatever it has to do. Shutting stable doors, perhaps.’ It was an unnecessary, low and cheap blow and Romney stared at his old colleague daring him to take issue with it.

Marsh almost felt some sympathy for the man who had tried to ruin her as an investigative police officer.
Regardless of his obvious failings as an officer of the law, Wilkie had taken his people from their allotted positions only at the request of, and to aid, the police. He had not really had much choice and it was arguably unfair in the extreme for Romney to suggest that Wilkie and Samson Security had failed in their duties. No one could have known what would happen. But as Marsh sat suffering Wilkie’s embarrassment and some of her own she found herself wondering if perhaps her own boss should have taken steps to have made the securing of the potentially vital evidence in a possible murder enquiry an over-riding priority. Then again, everyone knew that hindsight was a wonderful thing.

Romney waited until Wilkie had left trailing his almost palpable cocktail of injustice, indignation and resentment after him before resuming.
‘So, potentially crucial evidence in our suspicious death enquiry is missing. It’s unheard of according to you two. What does that tell you?’

Hugo Crawford said, ‘You want us to do your job for you, Inspector?’

‘You think you could, Mr Crawford?’

Tired of their sniping
, Marsh said, ‘Possibly, it suggests that whoever was involved in the death of that poor man this afternoon was worried that it had been captured on film. And, if that is the case, then whoever it was must have had knowledge, ability and opportunity, not to mention balls of steel, that enabled them to then get up here from the battlefield commit assault and steal the evidence.’

‘Well said, Sergeant Marsh,’ said Crawford. ‘It’s like Wilkie said
: an inside job.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Romney. ‘Who is in charge of providing the soldiers that took part today?’

‘We have an agency that deals with that,’ said Crawford.

‘I’ll need their name and contact details. Who choreographs the action?’

‘I’m the director. It’s the director’s job to envisage, to imagine, to see what is required, determine what will be the best cinematic representation of what needs to be achieved.’

‘So the action of the battle would have been at your instruction?’

‘In something like this, something that requires an authentically historical depiction we consult with an advisor, a specialist, usually an historian who specialises in the period.’

‘And who
might that be in this instance?’

‘A chap named Godfrey Wilson.’

‘Where is he now?

‘Presumably still in quarantine on the battlefield. I haven’t seen him. I gather no one is allowed off it without your say so. Why do you ask?’

‘We’ve taken a lot of statements. And a number of the French contingent have complained that there were elements of the British forces who were plain violent in what should essentially have been a non-violent affair. I’m led to believe by self-confessed veterans of this kind of thing that while superficial injuries are not unusual the number and nature of French casualties from today’s little excursion into history has been well beyond what is expected. That’s not including the fatality, by the way.’

Falling back on his defensive indignation
, Crawford said, ‘What are you getting at exactly, Inspector?’

‘Someone told me that you have a reputation as something of a shock-jock. I was wondering if perhaps there was an added ingredient in today’s proceedings? The requirement for a little more reality perhaps?’

‘I do hope you are not suggesting that I, or anyone else involved with this project, would sanction and encourage actual violence simply for sensationalism, or to add an element of realism. That would make someone in your perverted way of thinking an accessory to murder.’

‘Who said anything about murder, Mr Crawford? But since you brought it up, I will ask you straight, do you know anything that might assist us in our enquiries regarding the level of violence demonstrated by an element of those taking part in today’s battle?’

‘No, I do not. Is that clear enough for you?’

Romney smiled, ‘Perfectly. Thank you.’

Crawford stood. He was probably used to this tactic encouraging those he was dealing with to get the message that the interview was over and to push off. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you, Inspector? I do have rather a lot on my plate to sort out, as I’m sure you can imagine.’

Romney stayed put. ‘Just one more question for now. Do you know anything about a small group of men wearing British uniforms who were involved today, about half-a-dozen
, that might not have been part of the re-enactment society?’

‘No.’ Crawford’s denial was emphatic and swift, a reaction that both Marsh and Romney interpreted as a sign he had had enough.

‘Well, that’s all for now. I’m sure I’ll be talking to you again soon, though. How long are you here for?’ Romney obstinately continued to sit.

‘At least another two weeks. We have filming inside the castle to do.’