‘Oh, they’ve been paying us a monthly donation since the beginning,’ Angela said. ‘It’s a medical charity. I asked Nora about it once. Medical research and support, she said. I think they’re something to do with one of the drugs companies,’ she concluded vaguely.
‘What would they get out of it – making such a big donation to you, I mean?’
‘Well, I suppose it’s good for their image,’ Angela hazarded. ‘And don’t they get tax relief or something? I think Nora said companies get their tax reduced for charity donations. And maybe Amanda collects data for them, or sends them customers. I don’t know. That sort of thing would be what’s in her private files, I suppose. Anyway, the Windhover’s a big supporter – we could about survive on what they pay us alone. Oh, and I asked Nora about setting up the agency in the first place, like you asked me, and she said that was Windhover as well – gave Amanda a big lump sum to get the office building adapted and get the whole thing going.’
‘They sound like the good guys,’ Swilley said.
‘Well, I guess they are. It’s nice when you hear all the stories about these big multinational drugs companies, to know there’s one that’s doing something good, giving something back.’
‘I expect lots of them do,’ Swilley said. ‘I expect a lot of these stories are exaggerated.’
Angela looked pleased at the idea of the world being a nicer place. ‘Yeah, I bet you’re right.’
‘So that’s the income,’ Swilley prompted. ‘What about the outgoings?’
‘Oh, yeah, you wanted to know about salaries. Well, Nora gets ?1650 a month – gross – which surprised me a bit because it’s not that much more than me. I get ?1350.’
Around twenty thousand and sixteen thousand respectively, Norma thought after a quick calculation. ‘Is that about average?’ she asked.
‘I can’t say about Nora – I mean, she’s supposed to be an owner, isn’t she? But mine is a bit above average. When you work for a charity you don’t expect high wages.’
‘And what about Amanda?’
‘There wasn’t anything about her getting a salary, either in the books or on the system – I suppose she’d be bound to keep that private. But in the bank account I did find a regular transfer to another account of ten thousand every month.’ She screwed up her brow. ‘But that couldn’t be her salary, could it? I mean, that would be a hundred and twenty thousand a year. She wouldn’t take that much, when it was a charity, would she? Only, I can’t think what else it could be, because it’s too big to be utilities or rates or anything, and if it was office supplies or something like that it’d be paid when the invoices came in, not monthly.’
‘You’re right,’ Norma said. ‘I wonder if it could be paying off a loan of some sort?’
‘I don’t know. I never heard of any loan – and a loan for what, anyway? Apart from the office and office supplies, we don’t use anything else.’ She shrugged the problem away, being essentially uninterested in it. ‘Anyway, I made a note of the bank account number in case you wanted it. I suppose
‘Yes,’ said Swilley. ‘If it was important.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘You’ve done very well.’
The last of the elation faded from Angela’s face, and she slumped. ‘Doesn’t make any difference, though, does it? It doesn’t bring David back.’ Her lip trembled and she put her hand over it and pressed for a moment. When she removed it, a certain steeliness had come with further thoughts. ‘If she did have anything to do with it, I hope you get her! It makes me sick to think of her being all pious and smug and all the time she’s done something like
‘Well, we don’t know she’s done anything,’ Swilley said quickly. ‘And you mustn’t let her think you suspect her, whatever you do.’
‘Oh, I won’t,’ Angela said easily. ‘I can be as two-faced as the next person.’
SEVENTEEN
Butcher’s Dog
Porson actually came to Slider’s office rather than summoning him, proof of excitement. Because he was The Syrup, it wouldn’t be revealed any other way. Except that – wasn’t there something of a shine to the old boy’s bumpy pate, and a sparkle lurking under the overhanging eyebrows?
‘Well, someone took his finger out, wonders will never cease,’ he said in his normal grumbling tone. ‘Got some corporation for once in a blue moon, from the Excise opposite number, bloke called –’ he inspected the paper in his hand – ‘Wouter Zollars. Bloody Nora, what a name! Still, what wouldn’t we give for more of his sort?’
‘For a few Zollars more,’ Slider said. He just couldn’t help himself.
Fortunately Porson didn’t notice. ‘Right! None of that “them and us” bollocks from him,’ he said. He was staring again at the paper. ‘Blimey, I don’t fancy standing up in a meeting and having to pronounce this lot. I’m not even going to try for you. You can have the phonetic version. I’m not the United Nations. Anyway, this Zollars knows the
‘And Bodeker’s someone they know?’
‘You might say. He’s a bit tasty. Up to all sorts of naughtiness as a lad, graduated into the diamond trade in his twenties, courier, got caught and ended up inside. Come out about ten years ago. Hasn’t been in any trouble since, but he’s one of those villains, you know in your gut they’ll never change. You can’t teach an old leopard new tricks. They’ve been watching him ever since, haven’t caught him out, but friend Zollars’d bet his pension he’s up to something. He goes down to the marina every Wednesday, supposed to be going out night fishing, but when we told Zollars about the meeting with the
Slider reminded Porson of his own caveat. ‘We only know about one meeting.’
‘Both going out night fishing, the same night, regular?’ Porson said. ‘One’s a known courier, the other comes ashore with a box o’ something no one ever gets a look at? Work it out, laddie. It’s not rocket salad.’
‘I wonder what they did this last Wednesday, with Rogers dead,’ Slider mused.
‘They must’ve thought about that before they offed him,’ Porson said, ‘because Bodeker – thank Christ I can say that one – went down as usual. Dutch police want him very bad. They’re going to set up a big multi-agency operation and take him on the next run, let him get right to the boat with the goods on him and grab him.’
Slider looked aghast. ‘But if they do that we’ll lose our end of it. They’ll close it down and we’ll never be able to catch the rest of them.’
‘Never mind,’ Porson barked. ‘That part of it is out of our hands now. The big boys have taken our ball and we can’t play.’
‘We’ve got two murders on our books.’
‘You’ve got the hand print off the motor.’
‘But no one to match it against. And even if we could get the murderer, there’s little hope he’d give up his boss – the top man.’ Slider fiddled unhappily with his pen. ‘There are still lots of things I want to know. I’ve got ongoing investigations—’
‘I know that,’ Porson said, slightly more sympathetically, ‘and there’s no reason you can’t go on trying to tie up loose ends, as long as you don’t frighten the horses. Because if anything we do spooks the gang and the operation goes wrong, it’ll be all our bollocks on a platter. I don’t like this set-up any more than you, but we’ve got Europol and the Excise boys and God knows who else getting involved now, and that lot’s too rich for our blood. We’re not even second division. We’re Noddy and Big Ears. Just remember that.’ He headed for the door, but turned when he reached it to say from beneath seriously-levelled brows, ‘If you do anything that throws a spaniel in the works, I’m not going to bat for you, not this time. I mean it. You listening to me?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Slider.
When Porson had gone he lapsed into thought again.
He twiddled his pen.
