water in front of me, beside my plate. Well, I had no idea what it was for, but I knew they were Catholics, so – I dipped my fingers in and crossed myself.’ She sighed and shook her head at the memory. ‘It was the most mortifying moment of my life.’
Atherton came in. ‘Nearly ready. You two look very cosy.’
‘We’re swapping embarrassing moments,’ Emily said. ‘Can I do anything?’
‘You could lay the table.’
Slider’s phone rang. He didn’t recognise the number, and was in two minds about taking the call, but Emily had got up and left him to get cutlery from the kitchen, so he answered, a little gingerly in case it was Bates again.
It was Pauline. There was a lot of noise in the background. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.
‘At a garage. I’m sorry I couldn’t call you back before, but I never know at work who might be listening. I tell you, it’s a bloody reign of terror these days. I’m thinking of getting out.’
‘Oh, Pauly, is it that bad?’
‘You don’t know the half of it. What did you want?’
‘As one of my snouts said, it’s a nobby murder of a nobby bloke. Ed Stonax.’
‘I’ve read about that,’ she said, and, curiously, there was relief in her voice. ‘And seen it on the telly. Could hardly miss it. But I thought you’d got your man.’
‘There’s more to it than meets the eye. I wondered if you’d heard anything.’
‘Not a thing. Sorry. So that was it, was it? I knew it couldn’t be a social call.’
‘Would you welcome a social call?’ he asked. ‘When I said it was Stonax, you sounded relieved. What did you think I wanted to talk to you about?’ She didn’t answer at once, and he said, ‘You’ve always helped me when I was in trouble.’
‘And a lot of good it’s done me! Look, Bill, there are things going on at the high levels that I don’t approve of. Well, that’s putting it mildly. I’m not supposed to know about them, of course, but sometimes being a woman has its advantages. Sometimes they’ll say things in front of you, or in earshot, because they just don’t see you. You’re part of the furniture, you know?’
‘What have you heard?’
‘I don’t know the ins and outs of it. But I’m guessing one of your old cases has come back to haunt you – am I right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, watch out, that’s all I can say. Someone’s got it in for you, and that boss of yours won’t be able to protect you.’
‘Can’t you be more specific?’
‘I’ve said too much already. Go back over your old cases, put two and two together, try to keep out of sight. That’s all I can say. And please don’t call me, not at work or at home. I love you, Bill, but you’re bad news.’ And she was gone.
Atherton popped his head round the door enquiringly. Normally he wouldn’t ask, of course, but given the Bates situation . . .
‘Who was that?’
Slider decided on the instant not to pass it on. ‘Someone who doesn’t want to talk to me,’ he said.
‘Smart of them to ring and tell you. Want to open the wine?’
By the time Slider had eaten and drunk his share of the wine he was utterly spent, and hardly had the strength to fall asleep. But he slept like the dead, secure in the knowledge that if the bad men broke in to get him, the cats would get them first; and in the morning he felt a lot better, stronger, clearer-headed, more optimistic. They drove in together in convoy, Slider keeping a look out for motorbikes and black Focuses, and looking forward to seeing Joanna. If he knew her, she’d be up at sparrow’s and on the road early.
Atherton and Emily went to their respective computers to continue their researches. Slider got on with necessary paperwork while the troops filtered in. When everyone was there they’d have a meeting to establish where they had got to.
It was Norma who got to him first. She brought him in tea and an apricot Danish, and said, ‘Boss, I’ve got something, but I don’t know if it’s anything.’
‘Anything could be anything. Fire away.’
‘Well, you know I’ve been going over all Bates’s known associates with Fathom?’
‘Yes.’
‘They all check out – most of ’em were normal employees and business connections. He didn’t seem to have any friends, and we know what his sexual preferences were like.’
‘Did you check with the pro’s he used to go to?’
‘Yes, and with a lot more besides.’ She grinned suddenly. ‘I put Fathom on to that. Thought he may as well start at the deep end. Sent him round all the brothels and establishment whores in the area. It’s not likely Bates’d take one off the street.’
‘Right. I’m sure Fathom was extremely thorough?’
‘I hope so. But anyway, none of them have seen hide nor hair of him since we nicked him the first time. And nobody seemed to know he was on the loose, either. They all thought he was banged up awaiting trial – some even thought he’d had the trial and was doing his time. So wherever he is and whatever he’s been doing since he escaped, he hasn’t been having fun.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Slider said grimly. ‘So what was the thing that wasn’t anything?’
‘Well, the only suspicious contacts we had were his bodyguard, who’s safe in Pentonville, his butler Archie Gordon, and his driver Thomas Mark. We had nothing on those two, as you know, and Gordon got out and went to Spain. His mum and dad have retired there, near Barcelona, and he’s living with them and the local police say he’s not been in any trouble.’
‘And that leaves Mark.’
‘Who disappeared as soon as Bates was arrested and hasn’t been seen since. Well, I’ve just been trawling every source I could think of, and it occurred to me that maybe Mark had family in the area, so I went into the BDM register, and found his birth certificate, and it turns out his mother’s maiden name was Steel.’
Slider jumped as if he’d touched a live wire. ‘The man in the pub! Don’t tell me – his father’s name was Patrick?’
‘Well, no,’ Norma said, reluctant to deny him anything, ‘it was John. But it’s possible, isn’t it, that when he had to give a false name to old Dave Borthwick in the pub, that that was all he could think of.’
‘It’s certainly possible. We’ve got a photograph of Mark, haven’t we?’
‘Yes, boss. Not a very good one – he’s in the background of a picture of Bates. We never had a mugshot of him, because he was never arrested. But you can see who it is.’
‘Get a print-out and get Fathom to take it down to the cells, see if Borthwick recognises him.’
Hart appeared behind Norma at the door, wondering what the excitement was about. ‘Guv? Something up?’
‘Thomas Mark’s mother’s maiden name was Steel,’ Norma said as she pushed past her.
Hart’s eyes widened. ‘Wait a minute!’ she exclaimed, and dashed off to her desk.
The word spread from person to person and the room buzzed with renewed vigour. A breakthrough made everyone feel better. Fathom came back, his fleshy face pink with exertion, to say, ‘He thinks it’s the same bloke. He’s not sure. He says it’s hard to tell from a photograph.’
‘God, the useless twonk!’ Swilley exclaimed.
‘But he thinks it’s him,’ Fathom said eagerly. ‘And in a line-up – in the flesh . . .’
‘Yeah, we’ve got to get hold of him in the flesh first, haven’t we?’
‘Crop it and get some copies made,’ Slider said, ‘and take them to the people who were in the Sally that night. Start with the staff and then try the customers.’
‘Guv?’ Hart looked up from her desk as she put the receiver down. ‘I was just on to Mrs Masseter. Asked her if the inspector who took away Danny’s things might have been “Steel” instead of “Strong”, and she jumped at it. Said yes, that was the name all right.’
Slider’s blood sang. ‘When Fathom’s got the photo ready, send it over to the local police, ask them nicely to take it round to her, see if she can identify him.’
