became impossible to work with. So he was transferred to Lexford, at which point we stopped hating him and they started.'
'And now we've got him back as acting detective inspector?'
Wells nodded grimly. 'And that will put the cat amongst the pigeons, I promise you.' There was a bit more to the story, but Wells was keeping it to himself. He couldn't wait to see Jack Frost's face when he told him Cassidy was back. The internal phone rang. Mullett. Demanding two coffees.
Wells looked round, but Collier had gone. 'Sorry, sir, I've got no one to send.'
'And some biscuits,' said Mullett, putting down the phone.
'Come in, Jim, come in,' said Mullett warmly, hand outstretched. 'Good to have you back in the division.'
Cassidy shook the offered hand and noted with relief that there was a hard-seated chair in front of the polished mahogany desk. But to his dismay, Mullett waved him towards one of the two deep-cushioned armchairs reserved for important visitors. Damn! He could lower himself in it all right, but the effort of hauling himself from its depths would trigger off the pain again. He gritted his teeth and sat down. No-one must know he was still suffering from the after effects of the stabbing, not if his promotion to Inspector was to go through this time. He turned a grimace into a smile of thanks as a ripple of pain sizzled across his stomach. The seat was lower than he thought and there was no support and it was pulling on his wound.
Mullett took the other armchair, concerned to see Cassidy looking so drawn. 'Sorry to hear about the stabbing. Are you all right now?'
'I'm fine,' lied Cassidy. He was learning to mask the pain. He had fooled the police doctor and should have little difficulty in fooling Mullett and his pack of dummies. 'I'm anxious to get started, sir. I understand Inspector Allen was handling a murdered boy enquiry. When can I take over?'
'One dead boy, one missing boy,' corrected Mullett. He paused as a sullen-looking Sergeant Wells came in with the coffees and banged them down on the desk, spilling some into the saucers. He waited until Wells had left before continuing. 'You'll be working with Mr. Frost on this one.'
Cassidy's head snapped up. 'Frost! Jack Frost?'
Mullett saw something very interesting to look at through the window the blank wall on the other side of the road. 'Er quite so.'
'My understanding was '
'Circumstances have changed,' interrupted Mullett. 'I had intended you would be taking complete charge of Mi Allen's cases and working on your own '
'That was the only reason I agreed to come back here,' cut in Cassidy. 'You will appreciate that Denton has many unhappy memories for me.'
'I understand that, but nevertheless you will be working under Mr. Frost.'
'Under? I'm an acting detective inspector. I didn't come all the way back here just to stay a sergeant.'
'The Chief Constable is a little concerned as to your fitness…'
'I'm perfectly fit.'
'… and he has a much higher opinion of Frost than, perhaps, those who have to work with him have. He wants you to work under Frost's authority as he considers this is a case requiring the leadership of an experienced officer.'
With difficulty Cassidy pushed himself out of the chair, his anger overcoming the pain. 'I am sorry, sir. I would find it impossible to work with Frost. The way he mismanaged the investigation into the death of my daughter…'
Mullett gave a deep sigh. 'I know you weren't happy at the way he handled the case. I agree he's unorthodox.'
'Unorthodox,' exploded Cassidy. 'He's more than unorthodox. He's sloppy, lazy, inefficient, devious '
'That will do!' An angry Mullett pounded his fist on the desk. It was not that he disagreed with the views expressed he, himself, might have gone further but he wasn't having this sort of talk from a sergeant, especially one from another division who could well carry a report of the conversation back. He was concerned that Frost's deficiencies should not be too widely known, otherwise his chances of dumping the man on another, unsuspecting division would be minimal. 'Whatever your feelings, Cassidy, you will put them to one side. The Chief
Constable has decreed that you will work with Mr. Frost and that he will be the senior officer.'
'I am not happy with this, sir.'
'I take note of your unhappiness,' said Mullett, 'but would advise you to take full advantage of this opportunity.' He gave his crocodile smile. 'Any successes that you achieve will be duly noted and, should the time come for Inspector Frost to be replaced…' He spread his palms significantly and let the option hang. 'However, if you decide you cannot work with him, I am sure County can find some other sergeant who would be only too pleased to improve his promotional chances by acting as inspector.'
Cassidy grunted. 'I'll work with him.'
'Good man,' beamed Mullett. 'Well, I expect you will want to get started. You'll be in Mr. Allen's office. You know where it is.' He stood up to indicate the interview was over. 'I'm glad we've had this little chat.'
A stab of pain caught Cassidy by surprise as he pushed himself up. He winced and gritted his teeth.
'You all right?' Mullett asked.
'Leg a bit stiff after the journey,' explained Cassidy, forcing himself not to limp as he crossed to the door.
'Oh one other thing,' said Mullett, making his carefully rehearsed speech sound like an afterthought. 'That business with your daughter …'
Cassidy turned slowly to face the Divisional Commander. 'Yes?'
'Over and done with all in the past.' Mullett gave Cassidy's arm a 'man to man' squeeze.
'Yes,' said Cassidy, tersely. 'AH in the past.' There was no one in the passage outside so he was able to allow himself the luxury of a limp back to Allen's office.
Thomas Arnold, assistant branch manager at Benning-ton's Bank, blinked nervously at Frost through thick- lensed glasses. By his side stood the cashier who had attended to Stanfield when he withdrew the 25,000 that morning. He waited for his secretary to give Frost and Liz a cup of lukewarm instant coffee, then nodded for the cashier to proceed.
'Mr. Stanfield was waiting outside the bank when we opened at nine-thirty,' the cashier told them. 'He handed me his withdrawal request. I raised my eyebrows and said, 'Rather a large sum!' And he said, 'Just get it!' I obviously didn't have that amount of money in my till and it was more than I like to count out over the counter, so I took him round to Mr. Arnold's office to wait while we fetched the money from the vault.'
'That's correct,' said Arnold. 'I offered him coffee, but he refused.'
Frost pushed his half-empty cup away from him. 'I'm not surprised.'
'How did he seem?' asked Liz.
'In what way?'
'She means,' said Frost, 'did he look as if his daughter was going to be raped if he didn't cough up the cash, or did he behave normally?'
'He seemed very impatient but then he usually is,' replied the assistant manager. 'It only took eight minutes to provide the cash.'
'I brought it in, but before I could hand it over he snatched it from me,' said the cashier. 'He didn't bother to count it, just stuffed it in his suitcase and left.'
'You didn't think it strange he should withdraw such a large sum in cash?'
'To be quite honest,' said Arnold, 'I thought he was going to do a runner… leave the country. I believe Customs and Excise and the Inland Revenue are breathing very hard down his neck… but that is strictly off the record, of course.'
They nodded their thanks and left.
'Well,' smirked Liz when they got back in the car. 'He was agitated, and impatient it's starting to sound genuine.'
'Of course he looked agitated. You'd hardly expect him to be whistling 'Happy Days are Here Again'. He knew we'd check.'
'Then what about my witness who saw the van?'
'I don't care if he saw a hundred bloody vans. I still reckon this is a tax and insurance fiddle.'
