predicament.
Man of my age gets his bollocks in the mangle, he deserves laughing at, he reflected. And they were good lads, eager to do their best to aid the disenmanglement with minimum pain.
Feeling somewhat comforted, he headed to the loo. xiii
Jimmy Howard was still in police custody but only just.
After the arrival of the TecSec solicitor he had made a statement which completely denied any knowledge of the contents of the envelope found in his car.
In fact, when the lab analysis was complete, it turned out that Howard might have been pretty safe even without his denial, as the capsules contained ketamine hydro-chloride, a mild hallucinogenic which, known as Special K, had a moderate street value, but hadn't yet made it to the banned drugs list.
The small Mid-Yorks drug squad had tossed the case back at Wield, saying they had enough on their plate without wasting time on what looked at best like a case of simple theft and receiving stolen property.
The lab assistant, Jane Ambler, had been interviewed in her home the previous night. She had denied handing any envelope to Howard and showed no reaction to talk of fingerprints, a calmness confirmed when examination revealed only one usable thumbprint on the envelope. This was definitely Howard's and provided Wield with the thin thread by which he kept the ex-constable tethered in custody.
Search of both the woman's home and Howard's had failed to throw up any supporting evidence.
Wield ran it all in front of Peter Pascoe who said, 'Looks like a politician's promise to me. Prick it and what have you got? Your evidence that you saw a person who might have been Ambler handing Howard an envelope that might have been the one found in his car containing a legal drug. Without an admission, this one's a no-no.'
'I was doing fine with Howard till that likely lad sent by TecSec turned up,' said Wield gloomily. 'Staff perks,' said Pascoe. 'But he's going to find it hard to carry on at Wanwood without being able to drive out there. This should mean his licence goes for at least another year.'
'Yeah. Great result,' said Wield.
'What about Ambler? No cracks there?'
'Butter wouldn't melt.'
'In her mouth?'
'In her anything,' said Wield savagely.
'You don't like her?'
'I saw her injecting a little monkey.'
Pascoe raised his eyebrows at this nonprofessional reaction from the man he'd always regarded as the acme of professionalism. Perhaps Dalziel was right and the sergeant had undergone some sea change in Enscombe.
'Anyway it'll clear the decks, and we'll need plenty of space to get this business with Marvell sorted.'
'Finding out who killed Walker, you mean,' emended Wield gently.
'Yes, that's what I meant. Listen, I reckon it's time I met the famous Cap. Why don't you see if you can make contact with Walker's sister-in-law, the widow in Redcar, see if she'd heard anything recently? Someone ought to tell her the news anyway.'
'I think mebbe I'll leave that to the locals,' said Wield. 'But I will have a word myself. After I've been back to Wanwood.'
'Wanwood? Look, forget those files for the time being. We've more important fish to fry.'
'Not the files. I wanted to have a word with Dr Batty about drug records and staff supervision. He was busy this morning so I didn't like to press.'
Pascoe grinned and said, 'Meaning you reckon you can keep Jimmy banged up so long as you're still pursuing enquiries. When's his first twenty-four hours up? About tea time? I don't think anyone's going to give you an extension.'
'Me neither,' said Wield. 'How's Ellie?'
'Fine. Why?'
'Walker was a mate, wasn't she? And from what she told us yesterday, it strikes me she could easily start blaming herself.'
The same thought had occurred to Pascoe the previous night, but there'd been little sign of breast-beating from his wife so he'd thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. Wield's concern still came as a reproach.
'She's fine. I'm just going to give her a ring actually.'
The phone was answered on the second ring as if Ellie had been expecting a call.
He said, 'Hi, love. How are you?'
'Pretty well. Anything happening?'
'Just proceeding with enquiries. Which means that Cap's spent most of the morning with her solicitor while we've been checking everything twice.'
'And?'
'And she's still in the frame. Good news is, Andy's out of it. I'm in charge now.'
'Good God. What did you use? A bulldozer?'
'He went like a lamb. You sure you're OK?'
'Yes. Well, still a bit numb. Listen, if you're worried I think it's all my fault, well I do, a bit. But I'm not sure how much till you idle sods find out what really happened. Like the man said, guilt without responsibility is the prerogative of the masochist throughout the ages. And while I don't mind a bit of biting by way of erotic arousal, I draw the line at the whip. But I'm glad you rang. I've just had Poll Pollinger on the line.'
'Oh yes. Any luck?'
'Well she's seen the file on the court martial, but says that her pet colonel reckoned the Ministry of D would make whatever she can do to him seem painless if he let her make photocopies. What she did though was make pretty comprehensive notes of the things she thought you'd want to know. Even these are a bit risky and she wanted to make sure that either you or I were around before she faxed them here. Even as we speak the modern marvel which turns your house into a litter bin is starting to talk. Hang on a sec. I'll just check to make sure it is Poll's notes and not some double-glazing hand-out.'
There was a pause then she resumed. 'Yes, it is. 'Field General Court Martial of Sergeant Peter Pascoe convened at Zillebeke November 1917, Officer Presiding-''
'Yes, fine,' interrupted Pascoe. 'I'll see it all later. Not sure when. If I'm going to be late, I'll try to let you know…'
'Hang on, Peter. Before you go. That chap who called the other night, the rather charming military gent with bits missing. What was his name?'
'Studholme. Major Hilary Studholme. Why?'
'Well, just a coincidence perhaps, but your great-granddad's Prisoner's Friend, which Poll glosses as untrained defence counsel, is down here as Captain Thomas Hilary Studholme of the West Yorkshire Fusiliers. Interesting, huh?'
For a moment Pascoe was back in the museum mock-up of the front-line trench with the lifelike dummy reclining on the camp bed, open on his breast a copy of The Wood Beyond the World inscribed To Hillie with love from Mummy.
'Peter, you still there?'
'Yes,' he said. 'I am. And you're right. Very interesting indeed.'
When Wield arrived at Wanwood, Des Patten was waiting for him.
'What's the word on Jimmy Howard?' he asked.
'Helping with enquiries,' said Wield.
'You gonna do him for drugs? No, don't look like that. It's not a guilty secret. Tony Beasley gave the captain a bell.'
'So much for client confidentiality. Would it bother you if we did?'
'I'd have to hire a replacement.'
'So, not personally?'
Patten shrugged.
'I hate to see anyone getting into bother, but there's bother and bother. Like in the mob, one of your men gets himself in trouble for nutting some short-changing barman or shagging some local scrubber, you rally round, send him on a course, say he was on guard duty that night. He gets in bother with stealing a mate's dosh, or
