'Aye, I've got some checking to do. And before you start looking so smug, think on. I've counted the books in that pile. There's nine counting the one you're reading. Gets to double figures and it's bonfire time. Right?'
'You're a hard man, sergeant. And don't forget that this is a meatless day.'
This was a weekly lowlight of the Corpse Cottage dietary regime.
'I didn't know what unnatural practices meant till I met you,' said Wield.
Once he got to the station his checking didn't take long, which was just as well as the outcome didn't seem worth waiting for. He'd short-cut official channels by ringing a contact in Social Security Investigations and asking her to punch up Patten's National Insurance Number and checking on employment from November the previous year till June this. The answer was so obvious that Wield felt a pang of resentment towards Digweed as if his partner had deliberately wasted his time.
Patten, feeling the pinch when his gambling had emptied his account, had looked for a job to suit his talents and training, and been taken on by Task Force Five, the Manchester-based security firm who, from small beginnings in 1979, had burgeoned with the eighties crime figures into one of the top three national firms.
'So he's done their training course, and had seven months to see how they get things done, when he runs into Sanderson who's got a business he'd like to turn into the next TFF,' growled Dalziel. 'Makes him a good man to hire.'
'Didn't get hired, became a partner,' said Wield obstinately.
'So he'd had a bit of luck with the bookies somewhere out of Mid-Yorkshire. Or maybe making him a partner was compensation for not being able to afford to pay him wages. How much does it cost to buy into nowt anyway? This all you've got, Wieldy?'
'There's Rosso, that's Les Rosthwaite.'
'Who the hell's he when he's at home?'
Wield told him.
Dalziel said, 'Am I missing something here? Sanderson's batman came out with him and worked for TecSec till he got himself killed in a car accident?'
'That's right, sir,' said Wield, uneasily aware that Dalziel more than anyone recognized the sound of the bottom of a barrel being scraped.
'Anything suspicious?'
'Well, no, actually. I checked with Traffic. He was more than twice over the limit and he'd got previous for drunk and disorderly. ..'
'Thank God for that. I thought you were going to say they found curare in his bloodstream and somehow I'd missed hearing about it. Are you done now?'
'Yes, sir, I'm done. Are you saying I should drop it now?'
'You've got to have got hold of summat afore you can drop it, lad,’ said Dalziel. 'As far as TecSec goes, we've got nowt. OK, it's odds on that there was some kind of fiddle went on for Sanderson to get the ALBA contract. Old boys' network with mebbe a bit of old boys' blackmail thrown in, but without a complaint there's nowt criminal in that. So let's fry the fish that are in the pan, eh? The women in ANIMA who went on the raid, I want them all interviewed again.'
Wield examined this then said reasonably, 'I thought we'd decided there was no way they could have anything to do with the remains, except finding them
'Don't start telling me what I know, Wieldy,’ said Dalziel irritably. 'This is something else. You've not heard? No, of course, you were off enjoying yourself yesterday afternoon. It's a bloody good job there's someone round here puts in an honest day's work. It's Wendy Walker.'
He told Wield the story.
'How's she doing?' asked the sergeant.
'Still unconscious,' said Dalziel. 'If she wakes up, mebbe she'll be able to tell us exactly what happened. Until then all we can be sure of is she weren't knocked down the way someone tried to make it look like she was knocked down.'
'Could be the driver just wanted to shift the scene of the accident a bit further from home.'
'Yeah, even Seymour managed to work that one out,' snapped the Fat Man. 'Well that's a serious crime in itself. It would mean the driver knew she was alive still. And the way she was dumped face down in a ditch full of water suggests he didn't much care if she stayed that way. So it could be attempted murder we're dealing with.'
'So we're interviewing all known associates to see if we can pick up any pointers,' said Wield.
'By gum, you're sharp today, sergeant. I've got Seymour checking out her fellow lodgers in the house she lives in. Some kind of lefty commune by the sounds of it, so I doubt we'll get much cooperation there. And the other major bunch of contacts we know about are the ANIMA women, so if you can spare a bit of your precious time, sergeant
The probable cause of Dalziel's bad temper was beginning to be clear, but Wield liked to have things completely clear.
'Does that include Ms Marvell, sir?'
'She's one of them, isn't she?'
'Yes, but I thought, mebbe knowing her personally…'
He faltered under a gaze as obstructive as a road block.
'That's why I'm telling you off to do it,' said Dalziel softly. 'Unless you've got any objection?'
'Not the least in the world, sir,' said Wield. Then he thought, hey, that sounds more like Edwin speaking than me. But the Fat Man didn't seem to have noticed. He was looking at his watch.
'You seen Peter this morning?' he asked.
'No, but I may have missed him. I didn't look in his room…'
'Don't go all defensive cover-up on me, Wieldy,' said Dalziel. 'I doubt if I've seen him for more than two minutes since he got back from his gran's funeral. He claims he didn't cop for owt, but the way he's acting, you'd think he'd turned into a gent of independent means! I don't know what's happening to this department, but it's coming apart at the seams, and I'm the bugger to stitch it up again, even if it means drawing a bit of blood in the process. So put that into your grapevine and spread it, lad.'
'Yes, sir,' said Wield. 'I'll spread it like margarine.' ii
Peter Pascoe awoke.
It was black dark and the darkness pressed on him like a wall of dank earth which a very little undermining would bring sliding down on top of him. His nostrils flared and his mouth drew in desperate draughts of air, and he turned on his side and reached out his hand in search of he knew not what possible comfort. His fingers found flesh, still, cold, naked. He cried out in shock and tried to withdraw his hand, but before he could, it was seized in a grip irresistibly strong and out of the darkness a voice said, 'You've kicked the sodding duvet off again. God, I'm frozen solid!'
Then Ellie drew him close and held him across her shivering body.
'Purely thermal,' she murmured warningly. 'Don't get any ideas.'
He didn't answer and after a while she became aware that his shivering wasn't all down to temperature.
'Hey, are you OK?' she said.
'Yes. Just a bad dream.'
'Don't tell me. This court-martial thing still?'
'Sort of… in a way… not about it though… about me… I feel like I'm there… in the Salient…'
'For Christ's sake, Peter,' she exclaimed sitting up. 'I know I said I thought you should go on with this, but if this is what it's doing to you, don't you think you should give it up?'
'Don't think it would make any difference. Thing is, this salient feeling, it's not new… I've been there before… feeling out at the limit, exposed, utterly vulnerable.'
'You're talking about after Burrthorpe, aren't you? And Chung?' Ellie's belief in open government started at home.
'I suppose so. But other times too. In some ways all of my life. I've always looked for… strength. Maybe that's why I joined the Force. Married you even.'
Attempt at lightness? Or truth in jest?
