missing or been destroyed from the 1930s – particularly 1934 when that Brighton Trunk Murder was. Did your dad investigate the Trunk Murders?’
Watts nodded.
‘Ooops,’ Hathaway said. He reached over and patted Watts’s arm.
‘I remember when you were born. For that matter, I remember when your friend William Simpson was born. The same year, if memory serves. Now his birth was really something. My mum and dad referred to it as the Immaculate Conception.’
Watts tilted his head.
‘Oh, not that Philip Simpson’s wife was a virgin.’ Hathaway leered. ‘Far from it.’
He looked at Watts.
‘The good old days, eh?’
Watts was morose. ‘I think everything has to do with everything in Brighton. Corruption in the sixties links back to the Trunk Murders in the thirties and forward to now. And Hathaway, from being a peripheral figure, is now taking centre stage.’
‘I like him,’ Tingley said.
Watts thought for a moment.
‘Like him as in you think he’s somehow behind the Milldean thing, or like him as in like him.’
‘The latter.’
Watts nodded his head slowly.
‘Is that going to be a problem?’ he said.
‘Of course not. But the difference between him and Cuthbert… this guy has some sense of morality.’
Watts laughed.
‘An honest villain – that’s all right, then.’
‘Dave and I are going to have a drink this evening. Wanna come?’
Watts shrugged. Evenings were when he felt most alone.
‘Sure.’
Watts called in on Gilchrist in police headquarters first. It felt strange re-entering the building he used to run. She met him in one of the conference rooms looking out over the beach.
‘We’ve identified the skull,’ she said.
Watts looked at Gilchrist surprised.
‘So soon. That’s bloody impressive.’
She shrugged.
‘We had a break. We thought we were going to have to go the familial DNA route, but her father was on a database and there was a missing persons report.’
‘From 1934? I thought all that had been destroyed.’
Gilchrist looked puzzled for a moment.
‘This isn’t the head of the Trunk Murder victim, Bob, though it is a woman. She went missing in 1969. The missing persons wasn’t pursued vigorously, if at all, because it was assumed she had gone off to India and joined some ashram, or got caught up with some cult.’
‘Any contemporary statements from friends and family? Known associates?’
‘Family no help. Father is dead and mother has Alzheimer’s. We’ve got her class list from the university so we’re tracking people down through the alumni association. We’re checking the electoral roll too, just in case.’
‘Who was she?’
‘Student at Sussex; hippy by the sounds of it. Name of Elaine Trumpler.’
Watts and Tingley met David in the bar of the Jubilee Hotel in Jubilee Square that evening. The bar was low-lit and the decor was white plastic. David was sitting in a booth in front of a large aquarium. Brightly coloured fish drifted or darted behind him. He was speaking into his mobile phone but cut the connection when he saw them.
‘I’ll get these,’ Watts said to Tingley. ‘You’ve got catching up to do.’
Watts pointed at David’s glass and the ex-soldier shook his head. When Watts went over a few moments later and put Tingley’s drink in front of him, David laughed.
‘Still drinking that fag drink?’
Tingley gestured around them.
‘Yeah, keep forgetting what town we’re in. Cheers, Tingles, and best of health to you, Bob.’
They drank. Tingley exaggerated smacking his lips after taking a sip of his rum and pep.
‘I told the boss I was seeing you,’ David said. ‘Wanted to play it straight.’
‘Whatever way you want to play it – we weren’t going to interrogate you, just wanted a bit of an idea of the set-up from your point of view.’
‘He said to tell you anything you want to know.’
‘You know he’s a major crime figure,’ Watts said. ‘You’re putting yourself at risk of jail time getting involved in illegalities.’
‘I know policing used to be your business, Bob – what’s lawful and what’s not – but our government has sent Tingles and me out on many an op where the lines are blurred. In the twilight zone chances are we’re helping shore up some regime that has raped an entire country. We must have worked for some of the world’s biggest crooks but they’re legitimate because they have the power. Terrorists who are now presidents. War criminals with the Nobel Peace Prize tucked in their back pockets. So Mr Hathaway’s crimes, whatever they may have been – for I do believe they’re all in the past – pale by comparison. What was it the man said? “All great fortunes are based on crimes.”’
‘Have you been rehearsing that?’ Watts said with a smile.
‘Bit. How’d it sound?’
‘Good,’ Tingley said. ‘Good enough to convince yourself, right?’
David looked him in the eye.
‘I’m working for him, aren’t I?’
‘What’s he like?’ Watts said. ‘I’ve only got the police report to go on and, frankly, a lot of that is guesswork.’
‘What’s he like? A man of his word, I think. A tough bastard – mentally and physically. He’s a streetfighter. I’ve seen him spar with some of the guys and he knows some stuff you don’t find in the textbooks.’
‘He’s an expert in aikido and karate,’ Watts said.
‘Nah, not that shit. Dirty stuff. The stuff Tingles and me were taught – you too, maybe – you’ve got the look of a military man.’
‘Reckon he learned those from Sean Reilly back when?’ Tingley said.
‘Obi-Wan Kenobi? Maybe.’ He saw their look. ‘Hathaway reveres that old commando guy. Talks about him far more than he ever talks about his dad.’
‘And you’re certain Hathaway’s not involved in anything illegal these days.’
‘Well, obviously I can’t be certain but there’s no heroin lab in the basement or brothel in the greenhouse, if that’s what you mean. And the kind of meetings I accompany him to are with legit businessmen – as far as any businessman can be legit. I’m sure you wouldn’t regard Laurence Kingston as a nefarious character.’
‘Laurence Kingston?’ Watts said.
‘Last meeting I took Mr H. to was over at his place in Hove.’
‘When was that?’
‘Some time last week – Thursday, I think.’
‘You’re sure it was him?’
‘Mr Kingston’s hard to miss, wouldn’t you say?’
‘You know he committed suicide the other night?’
David looked at Watts.
‘I didn’t know.’
After a moment, Watts said:
‘Is that it? The sum total of your grief?’
