The Wood Beyond (38 page)

He nodded now and said, 'Aye, that's about the strength of it. How about t'others in the group?'

'Alibis for that night? All tight, except for Jenkins and Linsey. The same two as went to the Scarborough wedding. They say they can't really recall so far back, but they think they had a quiet night in.'

'What's one of them when it's at home?' said Dalziel, the tautology coming close to pathos.

Pascoe said brightly, 'OK, so let's look at what we've got. What might or might not have been a dying declaration which fortunately Seymour had the wit to get on tape.'

He pressed the button on the cassette deck on the table before them.

First Ellie's voice.

'Wendy, it's OK, you're in hospital. It's so great to see your eyes open. Wendy, this is Ellie Pascoe. Can you hear me?'

Then Wendy Walker.

'Cap, Cap, Cap ... oh why . .. why . .. why?'

The note of bewilderment was almost unbearable.

Pascoe resumed briskly. 'On top of this we've got our knowledge of what Wendy was up to, the evidence of Marvell's propensity for violence in the TecSec statements, her lack of a watertight alibi for the dates of the Redcar raid and the first Wanwood raid, the physical traces of Walker's bike in the Discovery...’

There was a tap on the door followed by Seymour's bright red hair round it.

'Sorry,' he said. 'But we've found a witness. Terence Oliphant. Lives in one of them bungalows between Ludd Lane and the bypass. He was taking his dog for a walk in the held behind his house - that's the big meadow that abuts on Ludd Lane - when he saw the lights of a stationary vehicle in the lane. As he watched it took off moving very fast eastwards. He says he can't be sure about the make except that it was higher than an ordinary car, more like some kind of van. We showed him the silhouette of a Discovery and he said, yes, that could have been it.'

'Why'd he not come forward himself?' growled Dalziel. 'Doesn't he read the papers?'

'Yes, that was the trouble. All the reports of where the body was found with the bike beyond it suggested she'd been hit by a car travelling westwards so he couldn't see how this might have had anything to do with it.'

'God help us when the sodding citizenry become detectives,' said Dalziel. 'Time?'

'Half nine-ish.'

It fitted.

Pascoe said, 'Good work, Dennis. Thanks.'

When the door had closed he said, 'OK, another piece of circumstantial, but we're still a long way from anything that's going to impress the CPS. We need something more . ..'

'There is something more,' said Dalziel tonelessly.

Oh shit, thought Pascoe. Not pillow talk, this last indignity of a noble 'tec.

'She says she left the university party early to go home and watch her interview on telly. Well, I watched it with Bog-eye at the party. And soon as it were done, I drove off to Marvell's flat. Only it were in darkness. Then I saw her coming from the garage block where she parks her vehicle and going into the building.'

'What did you do then, sir?' asked Pascoe.

'Drove off home.'

Pascoe let out a sigh of relief.
CID Chief bonks killer hot from scene of crime
was not a headline he cared to envisage.

'Have you put this to her, sir?' asked Wield.

'Not yet. But she's been asked every which way if she went straight home from the party and watched the interview. She says yes every time.'

'It's got to be put to her direct, sir,' urged Pascoe.

'Teach your grandmother,' snarled the Fat Man. Then he passed his hand over his face, putting Pascoe in mind of an eclipse of the moon.

'Sorry,' said Dalziel. 'I were just trying to think how I'd use it if it weren't me but some independent witness that had come forward with the story. I think I'd have still hung on. But I can't be sure. Pete, time I did what I should have done a lot earlier. You take over the running of this case. OK?'

'Good lord, sir, your memory's going,' said Pascoe. 'You disqualified yourself from being in charge yesterday lunch time, the minute that Ellie told us what Walker had been up to. It was only at my personal insistence that you interviewed Ms Marvell yesterday afternoon, because I felt that the personal link would be conducive to getting to the truth. Don't you remember, Wieldy?'

'That's right,' said Wield. 'I mean, any fool 'ud know a man of your experience wouldn't compromise the handling of a case where he was personally involved.'

Dalziel regarded them both blankly for a moment then gave a faint smile.

'Must be mixing my drinks is making me forgetful. I'll cut down on the water,' he said. 'So what's your plan, chief inspector?'

'Question first, sir. This Cap Marvell, I've not yet met her. All I know about her is what I've heard from my wife, and from you. So tell me, in your opinion, could she have done this?'

'By God, give some buggers a little bit of power and it goes right to their heads,' said Dalziel. But there was no force in it. Pascoe could tell he was seriously pondering the question. As presumably he had been seriously pondering it for the past twenty-four hours.

He said, 'Hitting a guard in the heat of the moment and accidentally killing him. Aye, I could see her doing that. Could see meself doing that. You too, Wieldy. Mebbe not you, Peter, though I don't know. But if you did, you'd likely be running forward to confess and make amends.'

'And Ms Marvell?' insisted Pascoe.

'No. Like me she'd think that what's done is done, and why rush forward to suffer for what you didn't intend and can't change? And she'd be bloody good at covering her tracks too. No Lady Macbeth stuff.'

Pity, thought Pascoe. Lady Mac meets Falstaff. Would have made a great play.

He said, 'And if we move on from accident? You say she'd be good at covering her tracks. How far might she go? Cold-blooded murder?'

Dalziel said, 'Two days back I'd have said impossible.'

'And two days on?'

The Fat Man didn't hesitate.

'As a man, still impossible. But I've seen too many poor sods thinking with their cocks to be impressed. As a cop, the old rule's got to apply. Guilty till proved innocent. That's what I hope you'll prove, lad. And because I hope it so fucking much, that's why I've handed things over to you. I need a runoff.'

He rose and left the room.

Pascoe said, 'Set that to music and you'd have one of the greatest romantic arias of all time.'

'Aye, and I know just the guy to sing the part.'

'Who?'

'Pavarotti,' said Wield. 'Mind you, he'd have to put on a bit of weight.'

Dalziel in the corridor heard them laughing. He didn't mind, even if they were laughing at him or his predicament.

Man of my age gets his bollocks in the mangle, he deserves laughing at, he reflected. And they were good lads, eager to do their best to aid the disenmanglement with minimum pain.

Feeling somewhat comforted, he headed to the loo.

xiii

Jimmy Howard was still in police custody but only just.

After the arrival of the TecSec solicitor he had made a statement which completely denied any knowledge of the contents of the envelope found in his car.

In fact, when the lab analysis was complete, it turned out that Howard might have been pretty safe even without his denial, as the capsules contained ketamine hydro-chloride, a mild hallucinogenic which, known as Special K, had a moderate street value, but hadn't yet made it to the banned drugs list.

The small Mid-Yorks drug squad had tossed the case back at Wield, saying they had enough on their plate without wasting time on what looked at best like a case of simple theft and receiving stolen property.

The lab assistant, Jane Ambler, had been interviewed in her home the previous night. She had denied handing any envelope to Howard and showed no reaction to talk of fingerprints, a calmness confirmed when examination revealed only one usable thumbprint on the envelope. This was definitely Howard's and provided Wield with the thin thread by which he kept the ex-constable tethered in custody.

Search of both the woman's home and Howard's had failed to throw up any supporting evidence.

Wield ran it all in front of Peter Pascoe who said, 'Looks like a politician's promise to me. Prick it and what have you got? Your evidence that you saw a person who
might
have been Ambler handing Howard an envelope that
might
have been the one found in his car containing a legal drug. Without an admission, this one's a no-no.'

'I was doing fine with Howard till that likely lad sent by TecSec turned up,' said Wield gloomily. 'Staff perks,' said Pascoe. 'But he's going to find it hard to carry on at Wanwood without being able to drive out there. This should mean his licence goes for at least another year.'

'Yeah. Great result,' said Wield.

'What about Ambler? No cracks there?'

'Butter wouldn't melt.'

'In her mouth?'

'In her anything,' said Wield savagely.

'You don't like her?'

'I saw her injecting a little monkey.'

Pascoe raised his eyebrows at this nonprofessional reaction from the man he'd always regarded as the acme of professionalism. Perhaps Dalziel was right and the sergeant had undergone some sea change in Enscombe.

'Anyway it'll clear the decks, and we'll need plenty of space to get this business with Marvell sorted.'

'Finding out who killed Walker, you mean,' emended Wield gently.

'Yes, that's what I meant. Listen, I reckon it's time I met the famous Cap. Why don't you see if you can make contact with Walker's sister-in-law, the widow in Redcar, see if she'd heard anything recently? Someone ought to tell her the news anyway.'

'I think mebbe I'll leave that to the locals,' said Wield. 'But I will have a word myself. After I've been back to Wanwood.'

'Wanwood? Look, forget those files for the time being. We've more important fish to fry.'

'Not the files. I wanted to have a word with Dr Batty about drug records and staff supervision. He was busy this morning so I didn't like to press.'

Pascoe grinned and said, 'Meaning you reckon you can keep Jimmy banged up so long as you're still pursuing enquiries. When's his first twenty-four hours up? About tea time? I don't think anyone's going to give you an extension.'

'Me neither,' said Wield. 'How's Ellie?'

'Fine. Why?'

'Walker was a mate, wasn't she? And from what she told us yesterday, it strikes me she could easily start blaming herself.'

The same thought had occurred to Pascoe the previous night, but there'd been little sign of breast-beating from his wife so he'd thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. Wield's concern still came as a reproach.

'She's fine. I'm just going to give her a ring actually.'

The phone was answered on the second ring as if Ellie had been expecting a call.

He said, 'Hi, love. How are you?'

'Pretty well. Anything happening?'

'Just proceeding with enquiries. Which means that Cap's spent most of the morning with her solicitor while we've been checking everything twice.'

'And?'

'And she's still in the frame. Good news is, Andy's out of it. I'm in charge now.'

'Good God. What did you use? A bulldozer?'

'He went like a lamb. You sure you're OK?'

'Yes. Well, still a bit numb. Listen, if you're worried I think it's all my fault, well I do, a bit. But I'm not sure how much till you idle sods find out what really happened. Like the man said, guilt without responsibility is the prerogative of the masochist throughout the ages. And while I don't mind a bit of biting by way of erotic arousal, I draw the line at the whip. But I'm glad you rang. I've just had Poll Pollinger on the line.'

'Oh yes. Any luck?'

'Well she's seen the file on the court martial, but says that her pet colonel reckoned the Ministry of D would make whatever she can do to him seem painless if he let her make photocopies. What she did though was make pretty comprehensive notes of the things she thought you'd want to know. Even these are a bit risky and she wanted to make sure that either you or I were around before she faxed them here. Even as we speak the modern marvel which turns your house into a litter bin is starting to talk. Hang on a sec. I'll just check to make sure it is Poll's notes and not some double-glazing hand-out.'

There was a pause then she resumed. 'Yes, it is. "Field General Court Martial of Sergeant Peter Pascoe convened at Zillebeke November 1917, Officer Presiding—"'

'Yes, fine,' interrupted Pascoe. 'I'll see it all later. Not sure when. If I'm going to be late, I'll try to let you know. ..'

'Hang on, Peter. Before you go. That chap who called the other night, the rather charming military gent with bits missing. What was his name?'

'Studholme. Major Hilary Studholme. Why?'

'Well, just a coincidence perhaps, but your great-granddad's Prisoner's Friend, which Poll glosses as untrained defence counsel, is down here as Captain Thomas Hilary Studholme of the West Yorkshire Fusiliers. Interesting, huh?'

For a moment Pascoe was back in the museum mock-up of the front-line trench with the lifelike dummy reclining on the camp bed, open on his breast a copy of
The Wood Beyond the World
inscribed
To Hillie with love from Mummy.

'Peter, you still there?'

'Yes,' he said. 'I am. And you're right. Very interesting indeed.'

When Wield arrived at Wanwood, Des Patten was waiting for him.

'What's the word on Jimmy Howard?' he asked.

'Helping with enquiries,' said Wield.

'You gonna do him for drugs? No, don't look like that. It's not a guilty secret. Tony Beasley gave the captain a bell.'

'So much for client confidentiality. Would it bother you if we did?'

'I'd have to hire a replacement.'

'So, not personally?'

Patten shrugged.

'I hate to see anyone getting into bother, but there's bother and bother. Like in the mob, one of your men gets himself in trouble for nutting some short-changing barman or shagging some local scrubber, you rally round, send him on a course, say he was on guard duty that night. He gets in bother with stealing a mate's dosh, or flogging his ring down the park, then that's it. He's out, and good riddance.'