A Perfect Likeness (36 page)

‘Why didn’t you tell me all this before he was brought in, Inspector?’

‘Because, Mr Clunes, you had spoken to and believed your client and were only interested in getting him, and his
daughter
, out on bail. You were not concerned about knowing the true facts. How do you feel now, Mr Clunes, about these two being allowed out?’

Deckman’s mobile rang. He read the name of the caller. ‘Hello, Judy. How’s Gabby?’

‘She’s now in intensive care, Sir. Will be for at least two days. The surgeon says she is out of immediate danger but is not able to guarantee that he has saved her voice, although he’s hopeful.’

‘Great news. I’m coming over as soon as I can. If you are able to wait I’ll give you a lift home.’ He returned the phone to his shirt pocket. He made no attempt to conceal the trace of dampness in his eyes.

Jackson Clunes looked at him. ‘Are you all right, Inspector?’ he asked with genuine concern.

‘No, Sir, I’m bloody well not. I am now going to the hospital to see three of my officers, all seriously wounded in rounding up this gang, and a private investigator whose arm was broken when she was taken hostage. I’m just glad they’re alive, Mr Clunes, but I don’t expect you to appreciate my feelings for one moment. Good day, Sir.’

*

‘Hi, Jens. It’s me. Remember?’ shouted Deckman on opening the front door of his detached house. The home and family he wasn’t sure he would see again.

Jenny Deckman ran to greet him. ‘I need to think about it. Could it be my long lost husband who’s decided to come home?’ She threw her arms around his neck. Her kisses told him how relieved she was. ‘I’ve missed you, darling, so much. I have been so worried about you. The boys kept asking what was going on and I had to tell a few white lies. Even at their age they realised something big was happening. How are the four in hospital?’

‘Jens, this has been the worst two days of my working life. The men will be fine, but poor Gabby, I don’t know. May have lost her speech. Trish will probably be allowed home tomorrow.’

‘Hey, come on now. You’re home so relax. The boys have not long been in bed; I kept them up as long as I could in the hope you’d make it home at a reasonable time. Suggest you go up and surprise them while I pour you a treat.’

‘Hi, boys, you not asleep yet?’

‘It’s dad,’ they yelled in unison and threw themselves at him when he sat on Richard’s bed.

‘What you been doing, Dad?’ asked Christopher. ‘Mum said she couldn’t not tell us. A special assignment or something. Made you sound like a spy. You’re not a spy, Dad, are you? Wouldn’t it be great if you were. I couldn’t wait to tell my mates at school.’

‘No, son. Just an ordinary copper. Tell you all about it when we finally put it to bed. Talking of which, that’s where you both should be. And asleep. Come on, down you get.’ He kissed them both on the forehead. ‘See you at breakfast.’

‘Night, Dad,’ said Christopher.

‘Glad you’re home, Dad,’ said Richard. ‘Can you do this sort of thing again as Mum lets us stay up late?’

‘Me too, son, but I’m not sure about doing it again,’ said Deckman struggling to hold back the tears as he closed the bedroom door.

He savoured his whisky which was followed by chicken breast in a Spanish sauce. Deckman always appreciated a Spanish connection with his food. He acquired a taste for the Mediterranean diet during the last family holiday together, in the pretty Costa Blanca resort of Moraira.

‘Sorry it’s reheated, darling. I had hoped you might have made it a little earlier, but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now.’ She stroked the back of his neck as she walked behind him. ‘And that is the important thing.’

‘That was delicious, Jens,’ he said. He had not spoken throughout the meal. His was preoccupied and Jenny knew her husband well enough to appreciate that now he’d eaten he would be desperate to talk.

‘Go sit in your chair, Inspector Deckman, while I go and top up your glass. I think we can stretch to two this evening, but this is the last one before I start to wean you off. And then, if it’s of any help you can talk to me about it.’

He did talk. Jenny Deckman listened, and said all the right things in the right places until the early hours.

Chapter 25

‘Good morning, Inspector, it’s Jackson Clunes. Apologies for the early call, but I wondered whether you wished to speak to either of my clients this morning?’

‘Yes, Mr Clunes, Miss Page, in about forty-five minutes, if you can make it.’

‘Not a problem, I’m just around the corner in the Courts. I’ll be there, thanks. Sorry to have bothered you.’

‘Morning, Guv,’ said DI Fraser. ‘Do you know, I had my best sleep for weeks last night. Must be because the missus is staying at her sisters for a few days. How about you?’

‘Fine, up till just now. I think our friend Clunes must have got out of the right side of his bed for the first time in his life. Too polite and didn’t use JC. Could be a danger sign and I am not sure I can manage a
nice
Jackson Clunes.’

‘Well, you certainly kept him tied down yesterday, Guv. Great to watch.’

‘Thanks, but right this moment we have a more serious internal problem to resolve.’

Fraser put on his well practiced concerned look and sat opposite Deckman. ‘Got to be something to do with Rexton.’

‘Actually, no it isn’t. Look, I have to say I’m missing Bob’s coffee.’

‘Strewth, Guv. You mean to say the coffee you’re getting now is no better than Bob’s?’

‘Truth of the matter is, Colin, I’m not getting
any
coffee. Better or worse.’

‘I’ll go kick arses, Guv.’

‘Later, we’ve no time now. It’s only thirty minutes before Clunes arrives so you’d better come with me and I’ll treat you, again, to a real coffee across the road.’

‘If I may say so, Guv, it really is about time you did. I can’t afford to keep buying you elevenses. I told the missus the other day I needed more than the £1 a day spending money she allows me. Now she thinks I’ve got another woman. By the way, Guv, would you be able to add a fresh, succulent, cheese and tomato roll to my treat?’ Fraser was already wiping his hands on his handkerchief in anticipation.

‘Are you trying to confuse me, Colin?’

‘Of course not, Guv, certainly not at feeding time. Why do yo ask?’

‘Well, the other day you were waving about a hanky with the letter ‘V’ on it, but today you’ve one with ‘L’.’

‘Well observed, Guv. I could say it’s to prove I’ve more than one hanky, but the real reason is that they were the only two boxes left on special offer, and you know the missus, can’t miss a bargain, so she bought them both.’

*

‘First of all, Inspector,’ said Jackson Clunes. ‘My client wishes it to be placed on record how apologetic she is for her outburst at her last interview.’

‘I haven’t heard any apology, Mr Clunes,’ said Deckman looking across the table at a scowling Sylvia Page.

‘She just has, through me.’

‘We all have angry moments, Mr Clunes, but we don’t all thrust jagged pieces of pottery into someone’s throat in an attempt to kill them.’

‘Be careful with your words, Inspector, my client had no intention of killing the WPC.’

‘You have a full copy of the last interview with Miss Page and if you had taken the time to read it you would have known her true intentions, Mr Clunes.’

‘I’m a very busy man, Inspector. Only had time to glance through it at this stage and I don’t have it with me this morning.’

‘That is a pity. It would have saved time. I suggest you read this to refresh your memory.’ Deckman slid the translated text over the table. ‘Your client had every intention of killing Trish Lister and because she was not here poor Gabby became the target.’

Sylvia Page flew into another rage, pummelling the table top with clenched fists. ‘I should have killed her on the boat. Tom warned me and I’m not sorry at all it’s not that Trish Lister. Hope the copper dies, just like my Tom. You murdered him, I murdered her,’ she screamed and continued her drumming of the table.

Deckman had expected further outbursts and was prepared, but it took two PC’s and a WPC nearly three minutes to restrain her.

‘Miss Page,’ squeaked Clunes. He was excited, even frightened. ‘How do you expect me to look after your best interests if you behave like this?’

Sylvia Page spat in his face. ‘You’re no better than the rest of them. You all killed my Tom.’ She sat heavily, catching the handcuffs on the back of the chair and twisting her shoulder. She grimaced and looked directly at Deckman. She calmed down and spoke in her, too perfect, English. ‘You have done your job well, Inspector. You found out things my employer never knew, including the need to satisfy my need to kill. It’s all true.’ She was pale, her hair matted and her eyes red and puffed, but within those eyes the ultimate evil was forever present. The hatred, the loathing she had for her fellow beings was clear. ‘The only time I’ve ever been happy was when I became Victoria. I felt different, just like I thought I would. I was a nice person for the only time in my adult life. I knew I couldn’t have allowed her to live, it would not have been fair. As soon as I first set eyes on her, I realised I had to kill her. I felt better, after I’d done it. I always did. The power I’ve had to end someone’s life has always been a big turn on. Better than drugs. Better than sex. I can’t help myself, Inspector. Only my Tom was good for me and now he’s gone.’

‘Sergeant, escort Miss Page back to her cell and ensure twenty-four hour watch is continued. Also arrange for her to be seen by the doctor as a matter of urgency.’

‘Sir.’

‘Mr Clunes, if you would care to come to my office I will give you as much of an idea as I can about the charges I intend to bring against your clients.’

*

‘So, there you have it, Mr Clunes, you are as up-to-date as we are. There will be more to add, without a doubt. We have specialist officers investigating the money laundering methods used by the gang and now we are starting to bring in the distributors and pushers. I despise these creatures, how they thrive on the downward spiral the user has been launched on to. That perpetual decline from decent citizen, from loving husband and father, from adoring wife and mother into the lowest depths of human life. Losing of jobs, breaking up of marriages, beating of children and partner, robbery and violence and murder. These are the people you are representing. Then we also have to deal with the prostitutes, together with informing the family of the two who were murdered by your client. It goes on. A picture of evil at its worst. And the sad thing is, Mr Clunes, there are still solicitors who prefer to take on this kind of person and, knowing they’re as guilty as sin, do their utmost to get them off.’

‘You’ve made your point, Inspector, and very well, I must say. It is quite clear that you have a total loathing towards me and I do appreciate that I’m not highly thought of within the force, as I’m not within my own profession by a lot of people.’

‘Correct, Sir, but I do not have a hatred towards you, personally, it is what you stand for. However, to the criminal you are almost a hero. Getting them acquitted when they expected to go down and managing to persuade judges, via the barristers, to impose light sentences when a long term incarceration was appropriate. You’re brilliance has been wrongly directed and has allowed dangerous criminals to remain on our streets. In complete opposition to what we are trying to achieve. I have never been able to understand why you never became a barrister, Mr Clunes, but on the right side of course.’

‘It is a long story, Inspector. Maybe one day I will tell you why. In the meantime I have to say I don’t think I’ve ever been spoken to quite like that before. You’re a very brave man, passionate about what you do. I could have you in serious trouble for making those remarks, but I won’t, because it’s true. I’ve become wealthy, but it was just a job and someone had to do it. I had no guilt. Until yesterday, that is, when I inquired about your injured officers. Your eyes showed such pain for their suffering and such an aversion of me. Yes, inspector, of
me.
For once I couldn’t sleep. I’m in my sixties, time I was put out to grass, as my son keeps telling me. Time I learnt to relax and enjoy the rest of my days with my wife and grandchildren. I made my decision this morning and I shall be handing over all my cases to my son, although he doesn’t know yet. He is a great solicitor. I’d be grateful if this confidence doesn’t leave this room. Official notification will be released within the next day or so once everything has been sorted.’

‘It won’t, Mr Clunes. Happy retirement, Sir.’

A knock on the door interrupted them. ‘Come in,’ responded Deckman.

‘Sorry to bother you, Sir,’ said the officer investigating the money laundering side of the case. ‘The suspect refuses to speak English now he knows he’s in trouble. Russian only. Any ideas?’

‘Ring this number for the translator, he can be here in ten minutes.’ Deckman handed him a business card.

‘You’ve thought of everything, Inspector,’ said Jackson Clunes.

‘Try to, but it doesn’t always work. By the way, the suspect who’s being awkward was supposed to have been the Page’s solicitor. He might be needing one himself, can I put your name forward?’