and swung round to Liz. 'That was Mr. Stanfield. He read in the paper how we're dragging our heels over the kidnapping and intends telling the paper how we're dragging our heels over his daughter's abduction.' He stood up and stretched. 'So I suppose we had better do something about it. Let's find out how…' He clicked his fingers. 'What was his name the one with the pigtail?'
'Ian Grafton?' suggested Liz.
'Yes… how an out-of-work layabout can afford an expensive hi-fi.'
'We were going to call on those two women at Primrose Cottage,' Liz reminded him.
'Primrose Cottage?' frowned Frost, trying to recall what it was about.
'Lemmy Hoxton. They lived in the area where he was found.'
'Oh, flip, yes.' He had completely forgotten about that case. Too much happening at once. He couldn't keep up with it.
Jordan came in with PC Collier trailing behind. 'You wanted to see us, inspector?'
'Did I?' asked Frost. 'What the hell for?' Then he remembered. 'Finch… I've promoted him to my number one suspect in the kidnapping case again.' Noting their surprise, he added, 'All right so he's my only bleeding suspect. I want him tailed. I'm hoping he'll lead us to where the kid is, but for Pete's sake don't let him know you're following him. If he suspects anything he'll probably sit tight, stay indoors and let the kid die of starvation. You can call on other cars to help if necessary.'
He sat down again at the desk, then realized Liz was still standing there. 'Primose Cottage?' she said.
'No.' He shook his head. 'Lemmy's been dead for months, another couple of hours won't make any difference. We'll go and see Ian Grafton.'
He was feeling too fragile to let Liz drive, so he took the wheel himself. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The poor old sod looked dead tired and much older than when she had first seen him when he turned up out of the blue at Patriot Street. 'Do you mind if I ask you a question?' she said.
'As long as it's not rude,' said Frost.
'It's about Mr. Cassidy's daughter.'
'Oh yes?' said Frost, guardedly.
'He seems to blame you for the failure of the investigation.'
'Yes,' agreed Frost. 'He thought I should have tried harder.'
'Can you tell me what happened?'
'He idolized his daughter,' said Frost, 'but he was always very busy in those days. He was never able to spend much time with her. That night he'd arranged to take her out for a treat or something — I think his wife was away. Anyway, he had to call it off at the last minute as something boiled over on a case he was working on. The next thing we know is a call from Tommy Dunn that she'd been knocked down and killed by a hit and run driver outside the Coconut Grove.'
'The Coconut Grove? What was she doing there?'
Frost shrugged. 'God knows! She might have tried to get inside the club you know what kids are like but Baskin would never allow that: he knows how keen we are to take his licence away. I went straight down there. Plenty of people who heard the car hitting her, not a soul who saw it.' He sighed. 'So another of my failures. We never caught the driver and Mr. Cassidy has never forgiven me.'
'Mr. Cassidy suggests you didn't follow up the case with your customary vigour,' persisted Liz.
'I bet he didn't put it that politely,' said Frost. 'Let's drop the subject.' He turned the car into Fairfield Road. He couldn't park outside Ian Grafton's house. The battered old van was missing. In its place was a gleaming black Porsche.
'When they come into money, they buy fast cars,' said Frost with a smirk of satisfaction. He had no doubt now who had abducted Carol Stanfield. Grafton answered their ring. He was disconcerted to see them and had to shout over the sound of heavy meral music rolling down the stairs. 'You can't come up I've got someone with me.'
'Only take a couple of minutes,' breezed Frost, barging past him.
As he opened the door the blast of noise from the massive floor-standing tannoy speakers almost hit him in the face. The speakers and the state of the art hi-fi unit almost filled the room. But there was still room for the bed. And sitting on the bed, her expression changing from delight to utter dismay when she saw it was Frost and not Ian, was Carol Stanfield. Spread on the bed next to her were heaps and heaps of banknotes. She said something, but he couldn't hear. The noise from the hi-fi was deafening and when he struggled to turn it off he only succeeded in turning up the volume. Liz pushed past him and cut the power off from the mains. In the sudden, stunning silence' they were slow to hear the sound of running feet taking the stairs two at a time. Ian and Carol were dashing for the front door.
By the time Frost and Liz reached the street, the Porsche was roaring round the corner.
Liz started to run for the Ford, but Frost stopped her. 'We'll never catch them in that, love. They've got no money and nowhere to go. They'll be back.'
They went back inside the flat to gather up the banknotes. He radioed the station to ask all units to keep an eye out for the Porsche and report its position. 'Apprehend the occupants if possible, but I want no Brands Hatch speed chase.'
He dropped Liz off at the station with the money, then went on his own to Primrose Cottage.
Seventeen
It was the younger sister, the bubbly nurse, who opened the door. She blinked her surprise at seeing Frost back again so soon.
'Trivial matter,' he said, following her into the chintzy lounge where her sister, Millicent, was watching the television. She pressed the remote control to switch it off, then turned to greet their visitor. She did not seem at all happy when she realized who it was. 'Sorry to bother you both,' said Frost, lowering himself down into an armchair and loosening his scarf. He started patting his pockets, smiling apologetically. 'Now where did I put it? Ah!' He produced the typed list of names, which he unfolded and studied. 'You used to live at Woodside Lane?' The nurse kept her face impassive, but from the corner of his eye he saw the older woman visibly start: she snatched up some knitting then pushed it away.
'That's right,' said Julie. 'A long time ago.' She sounded almost too casual.
'I'm a bit puzzled as to why you didn't tell me you used to live there.'
Julie frowned. 'Why on earth should we?'
Still watching the older woman, whose hands appeared to be shaking vigorously, Frost said, 'Because that's where we found the body, right near where you used to live… the man you said never called here.'
'Good Lord!' exclaimed Julie, wide-eyed and incredulous. 'He was found there?'
'You know damn well he was,' snapped Frost. 'In a coal bunker, right opposite your old garden.'
'How on earth were we to know that?' replied Julie. 'You never told us where he was found.'
He tried to hide his dismay as his mind raced over their previous conversation. She was right. He hadn't told them. Damn, damn and bloody double damn! His one ace trumped.
Julie sat on the settee next to her sister and took her hand. 'Millie isn't very well, inspector. We've told you we know nothing about this man, so unless there is any other way we can help…?' She stared at him, her expression frank and open, but somehow, he knew she was lying. All right, he thought, if it's lies you want…
'I hate to suggest you're not telling me the truth, Miss Fleming, but we have a witness…' He looked again at the sheet of paper as if confirming details. 'A witness who saw the dead man, Lemmy Hoxton, come into this house on the day in question. And he never saw him come out again.'
The nurse flushed angrily. 'I resent the implication. If this man called here, why on earth would we try to pretend he hadn't?'
'Why indeed?' Frost gave his enigmatic smile which implied he knew everything. But he knew damn all. He was floundering. He stared at Julie, a long, hard stare. She returned it, her gaze unwavering. Game, set and match to her. His bluff had failed.
But he hadn't been watching her sister.
