Faithfully: Chase & Halshaw #1 (25 page)

Lauren Halshaw stood on the kerb outside River Road Police
Station and watched Chase’s Mondeo drive off. I’m not sure which is worse, she
thought. Chase being his usual grumpy, infuriating self, or Chase in the
inexplicably jolly mood he’d been in all day.

She shrugged and walked inside. Sergeant Baker was at the
desk, dealing with a brace of shoplifters accompanied by a burly male store
detective. She caught Halshaw’s eye as she passed and nodded curtly.

Halshaw unlocked Chase’s office, negotiated the piles of
document boxes, and slumped into his chair. What have I missed? she wondered.
Chase has made some connection between the Chiltern Park burglaries, Lucy
Faith’s murderer, and The Logistical Group. But what? If he can do it then so
can I.

She picked up the first box of Lucy Faith’s documents and riffled
through it, hoping that something would catch her eye. It didn’t. This is no
good, she told herself, rubbing her eyes wearily. You’ve got to be systematic.
But how? And where to start?

She pondered the matter for a while, then straightened the
papers in the box, replaced the lid, and returned it to the pile on the floor.
Then she reached to the shelf behind her and picked up a bulging ring binder,
which she opened and laid on the desk in front of her.

The first of the burglaries in Chiltern Park had taken place
in late September 2009, she read, and continued at a rate of one every two or
three weeks ever since. Halshaw snapped open the file and began to lay the
crime reports out on the desk, hoping that some clue, some pattern would leap
out at her.

The modus operandi of the first didn’t seem to be much
different from the most recent break-ins, from what she could tell. The burglar
or burglars only targeted the master bedrooms: the rest of the properties were
untouched. Almost every burglary had been committed in the evening, while the
victims were away on holiday.

On holiday! That was it!

She picked up the phone and dialled the number of the first
victim. It was answered almost immediately.

The first thing she heard was the burble of a television,
before a cautious female voice said “Hello?”

“Good evening,” said Halshaw. “I’m sorry to bother you. Can
I speak to Angela Curtis, please?”

“You’re selling something, aren’t you? I know you are. Go
away. Stop bothering me.” And with that she hung up.

Halshaw dialled again, and managed to say “Before you hang
up, Ms Curtis...” before Angela Curtis hung up on her again.

She took a deep breath and dialled again. “This is the
police, Ms Curtis,” she said, sternly. “I need to talk to you. Please don’t
hang up.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman replied meekly. “I didn’t realise...”

“That’s all right, madam. My name is DC Lauren Halshaw, from
River Road police station. I just wanted to check a couple of details about the
burglary you suffered last year.”

“Have you caught him? The burglar, I mean?”

“I can’t answer that, I’m afraid. Am I right in thinking you
were on holiday when your flat was broken into?”

“Yes. I was pregnant at the time, and my boyfriend and I
decided to have a last holiday before the baby was born.”

“Where did you go to?”

“The Algarve.”

“Where did you fly from?”

“Heathrow.”

“How did you get there? On the tube?”

“No,” chuckled Angela Curtis. “Pete insisted on taking his
golf clubs, so we had to take a minicab.”

“Pete?”

“My partner.”

“OK. Which minicab firm did you use?”

“Chiltern Cars.”

“Thank you, Ms Curtis. And what about the return journey?”

“Chiltern Cars again. We booked them to pick us up at
Heathrow.”

Of course, that’s it! Halshaw thought. “Can I just check a
couple of other items, please?” she went on, trying to control the tremor of
excitement in her voice.

 “Of course.”

“Who lives in your household?”

“Just Pete and me. And our baby too, now.”

“What’s your baby called?”

“Alice. She’s not really a baby any more, of course.”

“OK. Last question. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a full time Mum at the moment.”

“I meant at the time of the break-in.”

“Oh, sorry. I was a PA.”

“And Pete?”

“He works for a property maintenance company.”

“That’s great. Thank you very much for your help.”

“That’s all right. Goodbye.”

Halshaw ended the call and grinned exultantly. Chiltern Cars
has to be the link, she said to herself. It has to be! The burglars must have
found out who had been booked to go to the airport, and when they were due to
come back. And Dmitri’s uncle works for the firm. Yes! It all fits!

She turned to the next crime report and dialled the number.
There was no reply, and no voicemail service clicked in. She hung up, turned
the page, and dialled the next one. The phone was answered almost immediately.

“Hello?” said a man’s voice, gruff but well-spoken. Halshaw
could hear classical music playing softly in the background.

“Good evening,” she said. “My name is Detective Constable
Lauren Halshaw from River Road police station. Is that Mr Andrew Evans?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m just following up on the break-in you suffered this
time last year. Is it OK if I ask you a couple of questions, please?”

The man grunted.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be as quick as I can. I gather you
were on holiday when you were burgled. Is that correct?”

“No.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Where were you when the break-in took
place?”

“At a conference. Oracle Open World.”

“Where was that?”

“San Francisco.”

“Can’t be bad,” she replied. “OK. How did you get there?”

“I flew from Heathrow, of course.”

“And how did you get to Heathrow? On the tube?”

“No. I was going to, but I overslept and I was afraid I’d
miss my flight. So I called a minicab. Chiltern Cars came to my rescue.”

“Did they bring you back as well?”

“No. I came home on the tube.”

“It says here that you live by yourself. Is that right?”

“At the time, yeah. I’ve got a, er, friend staying here at
the moment.”

“Thank you. Finally, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m in IT.”

“And who do you work for?”

“Now? I’m freelance. At the time, though, I worked for
Portage Logistics. They made me redundant a few weeks later.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Halshaw wondered about pursuing that comment, but decided
against it. “Did you work at Skyline Place?” she asked instead.

“That’s right,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, sir. Just curious.”

“Any other questions?”

“No. That was all I wanted to ask. Thank you very much for
your time. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Chiltern Cars again! Yes! It has to be! She picked up her
phone, intending to call Chase and tell him the good news, before caution
reasserted itself. Evans hadn’t booked a ride to the airport in advance, she
reminded herself. And he came home on the tube. I’d better make a few more
calls, just to make sure. Then I’m going to go down there and have it out with
him.

She turned to the end of the file and flipped backwards past
Amy Birkdale to the burglary that had taken place the week before.

“Mr Patel?” she asked, “This is DC Lauren Halshaw from River
Road police station. How are you this evening?”

“OK, thanks,” replied a glum voice. “How are you?”

“Good, thank you. I’d like to check a few things about your
break-in last Thursday, if that’s OK. I’ve just started working on the case,
you see.”

“Go on.”

“I gather you were away on holiday at the time. Where did
you go?”

“Barcelona.”

“Where did you fly from?”

“Luton Airport.”

“And how did you get there?”

“Minicab. Chiltern Cars.”

“Did they bring you back too?”

“Yes, they did.”

“How long were you away for?”

“Four nights.”

“But you reported the break-in as having taken place on
Thursday evening, before eleven o’clock. How can you be so sure?”

“We left late on Thursday afternoon,” he said. “A neighbour
came in to check for post on Friday morning, and found... it.”

“So it could have been any time on Thursday night?”

“No, officer,” Patel insisted. “The bedroom carpet was
soaked.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The only time it rained that night was a thunderstorm at about
eleven o’clock. The burglars had left the bedroom window wide open, you see.”

“Thank you, sir. Just one more thing, if that’s all right.
What do you do for a living?”

“I work in the Finance Department at Logistical Group.”

“Been there long?”

“Coming up for five years, now. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just box-ticking. You know how it is. Goodbye, Mr
Patel, and thanks again.”

One more, just one more, she cautioned herself, flipping
back to the previous crime report and dialling the number.

“Ms Theresa Pearce?” she asked, “This is DC Lauren Halshaw
from River Road police station. Are you OK to talk for a couple of minutes,
please?”

“Of course, officer,” said a clipped, weary voice. “What can
I do for you?”

“Thank you. I’ve just started working on the break-in at
your flat the other week, and I’d like to confirm a few things, if that’s OK.”

“OK.”

“You were on holiday at the time, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“Fort William. My boyfriend and I went Munro-bagging in the
Scottish Highlands.”

“How did you get there? Did you drive?”

“No, we got the sleeper from Euston.”

“OK. How did you get there? By taxi?”

The woman laughed. “Of course not. We went on the tube.”

“Didn’t you have a lot of equipment?”

“Only what we could carry.”

“And on the return?”

“Tube again.”

“Do you ever use a local taxi company?” she asked
desperately.

“No, we don’t. Why?”

“Just checking, as I said,” she sighed.

“You think there’s some connection with a taxi firm, don’t
you?” the woman replied, enthusiastically. “Is that it?”

“No, Ms Pearce. Not at all,” retorted Halshaw, firmly. “What
do you do for a living?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Where?”

“Hammersmith Hospital.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“He works in IT.”

“Who for?”

“A company called
LogiSoft
. He’s
an account manager.”

“What’s his name?”

“Phil. Phil Johnson. But what’s that got to do with a taxi
company...?”

“OK, Ms Pearce. That’s all for now, I think. Thank you very
much for your time.”

Halshaw slammed the receiver back into the cradle in
frustration. Back to square bloody one! I know Chase has spotted something. Why
can’t I? I’m not stupid. Unless there’s something he’s not telling me? I
wouldn’t put it past him.

The phone rang.

“What is it?” she snapped.

“Is that DS Halshaw?” asked a tremulous male voice.

“DC Halshaw,” she corrected. “Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s Steve Quinten from Forensics again,” said the voice.
“I’ve tried to phone DI Chase but he’s not answering his phone.”

“You can tell me, Steve,” she replied, pleasantly. “What’s
all this about?”

“DI Chase asked me to check some fingerprints, for
elimination purposes. From Logistical Group.”

“What did you find?” she asked, patiently.

“The prints belong to a woman by the name of Dinah
Rodway
. She lives in a flat in, er, Acton.”

“That’s right. What else do we know about her?”

“Not much, to be honest. She doesn’t have a record or
anything.”

“So why are her prints on file?”

“You’d better ask DCI Hopkins,” replied Quinten.

“You mean the cigarette smuggling case?”

“If you say so. It’s a live investigation, whatever it is,
so all the prints are still on file.”

“Who took her fingerprints?”

“DS Kirkwood and DC Fenway.”

“Did they go to the Acton flat?”

“I suppose they must have done.”

“OK. Thanks, Steve.”

“No problem, Ma’am. Goodnight.”

“Oh, one last thing,” Halshaw added quickly.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you give Amy Birkdale her phone back?”

“Yeah. I dropped it off at her flat about half an hour ago.”

“And how was she?”

“Fine, I guess. She had some bloke with her so I didn’t hang
around.”

“Any idea who it was?”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch his name.”

“What did he look like?”

“Fifties, probably. Prosperous-looking. Welsh, I think, from
his accent.”

Well
well
well
,
Halshaw thought, as she replaced the receiver.

The phone rang again almost immediately.

“DC Halshaw? Baker here. There’s someone at the front desk
asking to see you. A Mr Wilcox. Two of ‘em, in fact. Bob and Gavin.”

Anna slid into the passenger seat of the Mondeo, then leant
across and kissed him, long and languorously.

“Ready,” he asked, as she sat back in her seat and buckled
her seatbelt.

She looked across at him and smiled brightly. “Of course,”
she replied.

Chase engaged gear and edged, circumspectly, into the rush
hour traffic. As he did so he noticed a woman in the flower shop window
watching them intently. She was pleasantly plump, her black hair permed into
ringlets that framed her jet-black eyes. “Is that your friend?” he asked.

“That’s Lily, the nosey what-not,” smiled Anna. “I told her
about us...”

“Not all, I hope?”

“Every last gory detail, Al. A full blow-by-blow account.
Literally.” She paused for effect, then grinned and shook her head. “So Lily
was desperate to see what you look like. She had to take her Mum to hospital
for tests, which is why she asked me to work this afternoon, but she rushed
back especially to see you.”

Chase nodded, concentrating on threading the Mondeo through
the melee of traffic and pedestrians around the shops and tube station.

“How was your day, Al?” she asked.

“Fine, thanks,” he said. “We’ve made some progress on the
cases we’re investigating. There’s one thing I do need to tell you, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t remember whether I mentioned it before, but I’ve
been getting threatening text messages ever since the break-in at Amy’s.”

“No, you didn’t. Who are they from?”

“They were from Amy’s phone. Her personal one.”

“You don’t mean...?”

“No, Anna. I know Amy didn’t send them herself. I mean that
someone was making it look as though they came from her phone.”

Anna let out a slow sigh of relief. “Do you know who it
was?”

“Not yet. At first I wondered whether someone might have
hacked her mobile phone account.”

“Is that possible?”

“Probably. Who knows? But it’s far more likely that someone
borrowed her phone from her handbag in the office.”

“How likely is that?”

“Very. She leaves her handbag under her desk during the day.
She works in a busy open plan office, so anyone could have helped themselves.”

“Have you checked her phone for fingerprints?”

“Yes, Sherlock,” he chuckled. “Unfortunately, her phone had
been cleaned very carefully to remove them.”

“But surely someone must have seen something?”

“That’s what I would have thought. But the desks nearest
hers are empty at the moment, except for her boss and his PA. So when they’re
away the coast is clear.”

She nodded. “Poor Amy,” she sighed. “Is she OK?”

“Oh, she’s fine. But she’ll probably want to tell you
herself. So feel free to act surprised when she tells you. I won’t mind.”

He reached down to change gear, and felt a cool hand squeeze
his gently. He looked across at her and smiled contentedly.

“Are you OK about coming to mine tonight?” he asked.

“Of course! I’m really looking forward to seeing your
place.”

“I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s not up to your standards,
I’m afraid. Or Amy’s, come to that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I bet I’ll find out all kinds of things
about you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” he chuckled.

“There is one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Can we stop off at home on the way, please? I’ve bought
some food for dinner tonight, and I’d like to pick up some clothes and stuff.”

“Of course, madam,” smiled Chase.

*

Chase opened the tailgate of the Mondeo. Anna tucked the
bulging black Marks and Spencer shopping bag into one corner of the capacious boot,
and stood aside as he lifted the small holdall off his shoulder. “What have you
got in here?” he asked, as he wedged into the opposite corner. “It weighs a
ton!”

“Just a few clothes, clean undies, toothbrush and
toothpaste, that kind of thing.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Well, other than all my lotions and potions, I’m
afraid.”

“You look superb as you are.”

“Thank you, Al,” she smiled. “But at my age it takes more
and more effort to look this superb.”

He grinned idiotically at her, and then pulled the tailgate
shut. As he did so,
Green Onions
rang out.

“Is that Detective Inspector Chase?” said a confident female
voice in his ear.

“That’s right,” he said. “Who am I speaking to, please?”

“My name’s Elaine Salter. I gather you called earlier.”

“That’s right. Where are you now?”

“I’m at home. Well, at Ginny’s flat, I mean. I’ve just got
in from work.”

“OK. I’m just round the corner, in Sutton Mews. Can I come
and see you now, please? It’ll only take five minutes.”

“Of course, Inspector, I’ll see you in a few moments.”

Chase ended the call and tucked his phone back in his jacket
pocket.

“Trouble?” asked Anna, her eyebrows raised.

“No,” he replied. “I’ve been trying to get hold of someone
all afternoon, and she just phoned me.”

“To do with Amy’s break-in?”

“Yes. Well, indirectly. She lives in
Chenies
Close. Would you mind if we call in to see her on the way?”

“A chance to see the great detective at work?” Anna laughed.
“I wouldn’t miss that for the world!”