Now he was able to cope with the jibes, all the more since discovering that cheerful forbearance of the baiting diminished the pleasure of his tormentors.
Brook wasn’t worried for himself. He could handle it. He
It was easy for Brook. He’d only been in the station for a couple of days before his suspension kicked in. Wendy would have it tougher for a while. She’d get through it, he knew that, but at what cost to their relationship? Assuming they still had one.
She’d phoned him after her talk with McMaster-that was a good sign-but then the conversation had turned to
Even so, such was his new-found serenity that he couldn’t hold back a smile after putting down the phone on her frosty tone. Never before had one of his infrequent relationships been threatened by the notion that he was a womaniser.
Brook extinguished his cigarette and went to the bedroom to finish packing. He stowed the suitcase under the table and picked up the phone, dialled Directory Enquiries, noted the number and dialled again.
‘Belle Vue Park? Yes. I wonder if you might help me. I don’t know how to begin. Yes. Yes. I’ll try.’ With a theatrical sigh, he managed to control his emotions. ‘It’s alcohol, you see. I’ve been having problems. Yes. Well, not yet, but I think I’m weakening. It’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow and I…I’m sure it’s a busy time. Yes, I’ll hold. That’s great. Yes, tomorrow for three nights. Thank you very much. Brook. Damen Brook. B-R-O-O-K. You were highly recommended by a friend. Sonja Sorenson. Well it was a few years ago. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.’
Brook replaced the receiver and left the flat. He walked through the grey streets to Jumbo’s, pulling up his collar at the morning drizzle. Noble was already there, nursing a cup of tea. He looked up at Brook’s arrival and, before he could think, shot an involuntary glance at the clock.
‘Morning sir.’
Brook ordered his Farmhouse Special and sat down with a mug of tea.
‘I know. I’m late. It’s not like me and I’m not a millionaire,’ he added.
‘Right.’ Noble handed over a folder and indicated a Tesco bag half full of video cassettes.
‘Is that everything, John?’
‘Everything of use. The list is on top. I can’t let you keep it.’
‘What about the videos?’
‘Greatorix won’t miss them but I’ll need them back at some point. The list contains all men on their own who checked out of local hotels a day either side of the Wallis murders. There’s no Peter Hera though.’
‘Did you think there would be?’
‘I’ve no idea. Is it important?’
‘We’ll see. Even if he didn’t stay in the area, this is where we might trip him up, John.’
‘How?’
‘Because he was off his turf. Derby isn’t his town so he had to take risks. He had to deal with people to get things-vans, accommodation, pizzas. If we’re lucky…’
Brook flipped open the folder and worked down the list of names. For a moment he paused but then resumed before snapping the folder shut.
‘Nothing jumps out. Pity.’ He handed the folder back to Noble.
‘Should we extend the search?’ asked Noble. He was embarrassed at once.
‘It’s not for me to say, John.’ Brook smiled to wipe away Noble’s faux pas.
‘Maybe he’ll be on the tapes.’
‘Maybe. Any other developments?’
‘Not yet. We’ve done everything. Nothing much from around the van. If there had been another unknown car parked on the drive no-one saw it. No sign of any forced entry to the house, so the killer didn’t stay there. DI Greatorix thinks…’ Noble flashed another apologetic look at Brook. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. What does he think?’
‘Not a lot.’
‘You don’t have to bad mouth him to please me, John.’ Brook was pleased anyway.
‘I know. It’s just…’
Brook’s breakfast arrived and he took up his knife and fork. ‘What?’
‘Have you seen him eat? It’s disgusting. And the way he sweats…’ Noble broke off when he realised Brook had stopped spearing a mushroom onto his fork. ‘Sorry. Bon appetit.’
‘Does he have
‘He thinks it was a neighbour with a grudge against Bobby Wallis.’
‘I wish he were right. What have Forensics come up with?’
‘Nothing yet.’
‘Have they examined Jason’s clothes yet?’
‘His clothes? No.’
‘They’re a bit slow, aren’t they?’
Noble seemed a little put out. ‘Maybe, but when we found no blood on his shoes, he was in the clear. He couldn’t possibly have been in that room. So we put his clothes on low priority. And you weren’t here to give them a hurry-up.’
Brook nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
Noble rose to leave. ‘Well, have a good holiday.’
‘Thanks. And good luck with B.O. Bob.’
Noble laughed. Was this really DI Brook? Going on holiday, tucking into a hearty breakfast, cracking wise. Noble pinched his fingers over his nose and Brook returned the laugh.
As soon as Noble left, Brook pulled out a pen and wrote ‘International Hotel’ on his paper napkin. He didn’t need to write down the man’s name.
After breakfast, Brook returned to his flat, retrieved the keys to the Sprite and climbed into the old car. The Mondeo was next to it. Being suspended, he wasn’t sure he should still have it, but nobody had asked for it back and he hadn’t thought to offer. But The International was only half a mile away and it would be as well to keep the Sprite ticking over.
Five minutes later Brook parked on the forecourt of the hotel and clambered out.
He entered the double doors, running his eye over the excessive Christmas decorations, and rang the bell at a deserted reception. A young girl appeared, trying her best to look helpful and confident. She was petite and full- figured with plenty of make-up and bright orange streaks in her hair. The studs in her ears reminded him of Laura Maples.
‘Can I help you, sir?’
Brook pulled out his warrant card and flashed it at her. The girl’s face betrayed a glimpse of alarm and Brook wondered what she’d been up to. Drugs probably. She was young and, no doubt, badly paid. What else was there?
‘No need to be alarmed, miss. I need some information on one of your guests. Apparently a man stayed here from the 16th to the 18th of this month.’
‘Ye-es?’
‘He registered under the name Sammy Elphick.’
‘Ye-es?’
‘I wondered if there was anyone here who might be able to give me a description of the man.’
‘Mr Elphick?’ She turned to the desk to flip through the visitor’s book. ‘That’s right. One of your constables rang to ask us about single men staying in the area. What’s he done?’
‘It’s just routine. Sally,’ he added after a glance at her tag.
‘Sammy Elphick? Yeah, here he is. I remember
