Spanish Inquisition (9 page)

‘No, it doesn't,' Piercey disputed. ‘A place like that would have regulars coming in at the same time each day for a lunch snack. One of them would surely have noticed a distressed girl using the payphone so often; would be able to tell us when she left and if she was alone or with someone. I could check that out.'

‘You're too close to it,' ruled Tom immediately. ‘Any part you play will be on this base.'

With a spurt of the old Piercey defiance, he said, ‘Let Derek do it, then. The sooner the better, while the memory's fresh.'

Beeny instantly volunteered to go there later that day. ‘Norton summoned the taxi at oh nine twenty-five. Half an hour to reach the Imperial, two hours in the foyer, that means she'd be at the Poppin Eaterie during the very period when workers do drop in to grab a sandwich or roll. A bruised and battered girl swaying on her feet and carrying her belongings in two travel bags, how many of them do you see at your lunch place?'

‘Yes OK!' snapped Tom. ‘Go during
your
lunch break.'

Max attempted to calm things. ‘It's certain Norton expected to meet someone at the Imperial. When he failed to turn up, she called him from the café. We do need to know if she left there with a companion. We'd meet with the usual blank wall if we tried to trace the number she called through the phone company, and it's too much to hope a customer noticed which digits she kept punching out. Is there any news on Norton's mobile yet?'

‘I checked with the orderly at the Medical Centre, and with Babs Turvey. Zilch! I'd guess it's lying somewhere near the site of the attack,' said Piercey, then admitted that he had wandered last night over a large area surrounding the Recreation Centre punching in her number on his own mobile in the hope of hearing a ringing in response.

Heather Johnson put a damper on that. ‘We've decided the assault took place near the RMP Post, so that was a waste of effort.'

Olly Simpson, busily doodling, murmured, ‘It'll need recharging by now. Wherever it is it won't ring. Basic common knowledge.'

‘For God's sake let's have more of that, and less Poirotesque racking of little grey cells,' Tom ruled, as Connie moved across to her computer to access the emails coming in from George Maddox.

Heather had not finished. ‘I went to HQ's QM Stores and asked Private James several plain questions. Could he identify who was driving Phil's Audi when it was backed out from where he had seen it parked ten minutes earlier? No. Not even a glimpse? No. Could he swear it was Phil who put it there? No, but he would swear the bloke was the same height and build, although he was wearing some kind of fancy dress.' She glanced up from her notes. I'd say that was a good enough identification. How many Spanish picadors live in the Sergeants' Mess?'

‘There's no proof the guy James saw lived in the Mess. He came out again ten minutes later,' Olly pointed out in another murmur.

‘He can't swear it was the same man,' Heather said heatedly.

‘He can't swear either of the men he saw was Phil.'

‘That guy's useless as a witness,' Piercey told them. ‘He only sees tailors' dummies. He never looks at faces. If you speak to him you can see he's mentally measuring you up for a suit.'

‘But he recognizes
cars
,' Heather countered, ‘and he's prepared to swear it was yours that arrived when you claim you did.' She then produced her rabbit from a hat. ‘He's also prepared to swear he saw another car parked outside the gymnasium when he took his walk after the late night film. At first he believed a couple were having a snog, but it was empty which he thought was an odd place to park for the night.'

‘Did he get the reg number?' Tom asked eagerly.

‘Unfortunately, no, nor could he tell me the make. But he was certain it was red.'

Olly Simpson looked up in astonishment. ‘There's a man on this base who can't identify the make of a car?'

‘He was mentally measuring it for a suit,' muttered Piercey.

Seeing Tom's mounting irritation, Max intervened. ‘Even anonymous cars have drivers, which means there was someone in close proximity who could have seen Phil return and decided to borrow his Audi as cover for some business he was loath to use his own wheels for. It's a start.' He nodded at Piercey. ‘Job for you. Trace all owners of red vehicles. Any of them who haven't an alibi for the early hours of Sunday morning can be investigated further.'

From her desk at the rear of the Incident Room, Connie called out, ‘Norton's Clio is red.'

‘So Norton swapped her vehicle for Phil's before meeting the man who attacked her, then Chummy returned it to pick up hers to leave outside her quarters where we found it on Sunday morning?' suggested Heather.

‘Why would she do that?' demanded Beeny.

‘How else did her car return to her accommodation block? We haven't considered that yet,' she responded rounding on him.

‘She could have been attacked there when she left the vehicle.'

‘Then she would have gone to her room instead of crawling halfway across the base to the RMP Post.'

Max intervened. ‘Instead of wasting time on speculation, better to show Private James the Clio and ask if its shape is like the one he saw parked outside the gymnasium.'

Tom agreed, and embarked on the results of his interview with Bill Jensen. ‘As we've already pretty well decided, Norton's story was pure invention. Bill confirmed that she'd said she needed to make a phone call before leaving the theatre.' He glared at the amorous sergeant. ‘Possibly to the person she was speaking to when you interrupted her in her dressing room. The melodrama that followed delayed it, but Jensen said she waffled on about it being important. He didn't see her with the phone, and when he went backstage to check on her she'd obviously left through the stage door which was swinging open. We need to find that mobile.'

‘If we knew where she was attacked there'd be a better chance of tracing it,' grumbled Beeny.

‘I'm now going to broaden the canvas even further. Jensen told me when he began to chivvy the loiterers to leave, Norton was up on the stage drinking red wine with three admirers who she then kissed and shooed down the steps to the auditorium. I want to know who they were and where they went on leaving. Then there's the wild card. On the same nights as rehearsals for
Carmen
classes in woodwork, photography, higher mathmatics, music and movement, German and Spanish were held. Chummy might have attended one and become hooked on Norton in her role as Carmen – particularly if he was studying Spanish.' He gave Piercey another unfriendly glare. ‘When we run out of possibles we'll have to check attendees of all those classes.'

‘Not music and movement,' murmured Heather. ‘The title alone would scare men off.'

Max smiled. ‘Probably. It seems to me there's a cluster of likely suspects still to be investigated. Plenty to be getting on with, so I'll help out where I can.'

Ten minutes later the room was empty apart from himself, Tom and Piercey who was condemned to the task of tracing all car owners and isolating those whose vehicles were red. Max invited Tom to his office for privacy and when they were seated said finding Maria Norton was the priority.

‘She's a member of the personnel on this base, which makes her our responsibility. She's also a pregnant young woman who's been beaten up on our patch and, from what we know of her behaviour after leaving here, she's in a distressed state trying to link up with someone she believes will help her. We need to contact her parents, particularly the mother she claims called to ask how the final performance went down. She's probably the most likely port in a storm for her daughter.'

‘She's Spanish. Explains why Norton was so believable as Carmen. That's only common knowledge because of the general interest in the show. Nothing's been circulated about the father. I'll check him out.'

As if he sensed a hint of criticism, he frowned. ‘She only went off twenty-four hours ago. I had Piercey set up the usual alerts and, as you just heard, he traced the taxi driver who picked her up. Alongside that we've been investigating a serious assault of which a member of our staff has been wrongly accused and appears to have been deliberately set up. In my book, that's a greater crime than a woman who's excused duty on medical grounds deciding to take herself off without permission.'

‘Lower those hackles, Tom, I'd have acted the same way,' said Max frankly. I'm simply making observations on what I heard. We appear to have two cases: what's behind Norton's behaviour and who's mounting a campaign against Piercey.'

‘But they're linked, because she's adamant it was he who attacked her.'

Max nodded. ‘Of course they're linked. Solve one, solve the other. Yet I sense a complexity which will probably hamper us whichever direction we take.' He stretched to ease an ache starting between his shoulder blades. ‘We'll know more by the end of today. One aspect I find intriguing. Norton is apparently a talented singer, yet her military career appears to be thriving. Could that be because the father of her child is a squadron colleague?'

‘It's possible. I reckon the Doc's nutshell theory is still the most likely. Norton broke the news and refused to have an abortion; he lashed out with his fists. If it wasn't the father who attacked her why hasn't the bastard been comforting her and raging about what he'll do to the bugger when he gets hold of him? Doesn't add up, does it?'

‘If he's a civilian he might not know she's been assaulted. Maybe she was trying to tell him on the phone in the eaterie.'

‘But she gave every sign of expecting someone to be waiting for her at the Imperial.'

‘And when he didn't turn up after two hours she tried to call him from the greasy spoon place, where she wouldn't be overheard.'

As they both considered that they heard Piercey's voice followed by a lighter, feminine one. Then a tap fell on the door. The visitor brought both men wordlessly to their feet, gazing at a slim woman in her early twenties whose perfect features, black hair and dark almond eyes betrayed the Oriental blood in her genealogy. She was far too beautiful to be clad in warriors' garb.

‘Captain Rydal?' she queried, looking from one to the other of the two men in similar dark suits.

‘Yes, and Sergeant Major Black, my second in command,' Max said indicating Tom. ‘How can we help you?'

‘I'm not sure. It's difficult to know just what to do.'

Max smiled. ‘You don't strike me as a person who can't handle a problem swiftly and professionally. You wouldn't be in the job you have otherwise.' Noting her Signals badge and lieutenant's rank, he added, ‘You've come to talk about Corporal Norton?'

‘Yes. I'm Su Carfax, B Troop Commander.'

‘So sit down and tell us why you're here. Mr Black is the best person to consult. I'm merely sitting in during the last few days of my convalescent leave. He knows the details better than I.'

Tom rose to that. ‘Have you some info for us, ma'am? Has Norton made contact with you?'

‘No, nothing like that,' she murmured, settling on one of the chairs facing the desk.

‘I shall be sending members of my team to question Norton's colleagues, and the senior NCOs too. This would have been done as part of our investigation on the assault made on her, but her decision to cut and run has put the emphasis on discovering why. Whether she ran
from
or
to
someone. The fact that she's two months pregnant adds complications. She refused to tell me the name of the father.'

She frowned. ‘I was unaware of that until I visited the Medical Centre on returning from weekend leave. She was sleeping.'

‘How well do you know Maria Norton?' asked Max, unable to stay aloof.

‘As well as she allows anyone to know her,' came the thoughtful reply. ‘She has two enthusiasms. Her work and her singing.'

‘Shouldn't that be three?' asked Tom pointedly. ‘From our questioning so far we've learned she's also very enthusiastic about men.'

A flicker of annoyance touched those almost black eyes. ‘As are a large number of women on this base. Norton is in line for promotion, but her actions will negate that. It's a great pity. She must have taken that into account before making the decision to endanger her career.'

‘Surely the decision was taken after the assault, which she would not have been expecting,' Max pointed out. ‘On the slim evidence we have so far, I'd say she ran to avoid further punishment from her assailant. Do you know something that points to a different conclusion?'

The young subaltern hesitated. ‘Corporal Norton is one of a team handling highly classified information.'

‘And?' Max prompted.

‘I agreed to her request to work the day shift from eight to seventeen hundred during the four performances of the opera, which doesn't mean she had no leeway over taking her normal break periods.'

‘Yes?' said Tom impatiently.

Another short hesitation. ‘At noon on Saturday a particularly sensitive item came through, which Norton authenticated.'

‘Concerning someone on this base?'

‘I can't tell you that, Mr Black.'

‘But you think it's behind Norton's decision to run?' When she said nothing, Max probed further. ‘It could have prompted the assault on her?'

‘I've come here to ask what you've uncovered about this sorry affair in the hope of being reassured.'

‘That's unlikely. You've just added a further complication.' Then Max asked sharply, ‘This classified information; does it concern a member of my team?'

‘Sergeant Piercey? No. You asked because he's under investigation for the attack on Norton?'

‘No longer. We've proved Norton's account of what happened is completely unsubstantiated. My sergeant has been set up, presumably by the real perpetrator.'