Bryant & May 07; Bryant & May on the Loose

London in what became known as their Mad Day Out. They were filmed in seven different London locations by a veteran war photographer named Don McCullin, but four other photographers came along as well. The fifth location was a big series of shots taken in the grounds of the old St Pancras churchyard. The photos were designed to promote their White Album. It’s one of the most famous photo sets in pop history, after the shot of them crossing Abbey Road.

“In your report you say that Richard Standover denied ever having heard of St Pancras Old Church,” Renfield continued, “but he specialises in Beatles memorabilia. He lied to you.”

Bryant looked like he’d been hit with a brick. Besides, he hated being upstaged. “You’re telling me this is about The Beatles?” he asked incredulously.

“No, I’m saying it’s one element.” The sergeant threw the others a smug look. “I did some further checking up last night while you lot were brushing your teeth and making cocoa. Adrian Jesson owned the original photographs from the Mad Day Out, signed by McCullin and all four of The Beatles. Standover was desperate to buy the shots because he owns the sets from the other six locations, meaning that he would have the complete photographic record of The Beatles’ historic day. It would have sent the value of Standover’s collection through the roof. You met him, so you know there’s one problem; he’s got the charm of an open grave. He failed to bargain the photographs away from his old rival after staging a very public argument with him. Everyone in the collecting community knew he was trying to get his hands on them, so when he got turned down he made himself a laughingstock.”

“But if he tried to steal from Jesson, surely everyone would suspect him?” Bryant argued. “And even if he had done so, he wouldn’t be able to sell the collection, because he could never reveal that he was in possession of Jesson’s photographs.”

“That’s right. You can see parallel situations rising between Maddox Cavendish and Richard Standover,” said Renfield. “The connection between them is a desperate desire to steal something. The architect Cavendish steals from Delaney, the collector Standover steals from Jesson, and now three of them are dead. Cavendish the workaholic screws up and kills Delaney, and the process changes him. He’s a murderer now – he has nothing left to lose. Suppose Cavendish knew Standover? Did anyone think of that? Suppose he shows Standover how to get what he wants by killing his rival? And Standover does the job, but he’s worried about Cavendish, who’s nervous and fast becoming a liability. And now that Standover has killed, he’s sure he can do it again. Out of the four, the only one left alive right now is Richard Standover.”

“No, no, no.” Bryant held up a wrinkled hand. “It’s all too complicated. There’s a single, simple thread running through this and we haven’t found it yet.”

“You’d better send someone round to bring Standover in, and quick,” said May. “Renfield, if you’re right, we’ll have a lot to thank you for.”

As the unit mobilised into action, May followed Bryant back to his office. “Don’t take it badly, Arthur,” he consoled. “You can’t get it right every time.”

“Renfield is wrong,” Bryant said sadly. “Everything was pointing to Xander Toth. The area’s history, the fact that his family had been pushed off their land – all the pieces fitted together.”

“No, they didn’t. You were trying to force them together. I’m not saying Renfield’s one hundred percent right, but you have to admit he’s come up with a workable theory. Toth was dressing as a local character in order to bring publicity to his cause, that’s all. The mistake has been thinking that the three deaths must be tidily connected. They occurred in the same place at around the same time, but it’s exactly what you said about chaos theory. Tens of thousands of strangers, passing through here every day – so many of their lives intersect without them realising it.”

“I think you may have hit upon a truth,” said Bryant. “We’re looking at a series of causes and effects rather than a single unified case. There are three distinct events that occurred here two weeks ago, and they triggered disastrous consequences. One, a protester goes too far and makes himself a murder suspect. Two, a company man makes a mistake and tries to rectify it. Three, a collector gets a little too acquisitive. The city draws something out of them, especially here. It’s the King’s Cross effect – too many people brushing against temptation and losing sight of themselves.”

¦

On the way out, Bimsley swung past Renfield. “You missed a revelation, Jack,” he told the sergeant. “It seems our Miss Longbright enjoyed carnal knowledge of PC Liberty DuCaine on the way back from Brighton. See what a bit of sea air does for you?”

Renfield stared at the handsome West Indian constable. “You’re bloody joking,” he muttered.

Bimsley knew he had made a mistake. Swallowing nervously, he quickly left Renfield alone with his fury.

? Bryant & May on the Loose ?

43

Dying Alone

At the age of eleven, Maddox Cavendish had switched his school satchel for the smart brown leather doctor’s briefcase that he still carried to work. He treated his job as if he was permanently preparing to sit before an examination board. He went into the office seven days a week, although he allowed himself the luxury of spending Sunday afternoon at home, even though he was usually at a loss for something to do there. His spare time was spent seated at his laptop, surfing the net for news of rival companies. He knew that Marianne loved his corporate loyalty, but was also aware that she would not hesitate to fire him if he failed to deliver.

He couldn’t go to her and tell her that he feared for his life, because it would mean admitting to his mistake. He had no friends, no lover with whom he could discuss his fears. His family idolised him for being a success, which meant that they could not be involved, either. Overnight, the shining path leading up the stairs of corporate success had become a dead end.

Cavendish worked hard but didn’t play hard, partly because he didn’t drink. In the past eighteen months he had started gambling on-line, and now his bank account was flickering on empty. To get the money to pay off Mr Fox, he knew he would have to borrow or embezzle. When the staff left that night, he remained at his desk trying to think of a way out. After she shut down her computer, Sammi came back into his office with her coat on, and asked if he was all right.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “Just a bit tired.”

He knew something was on her mind when she unbuttoned her coat and sat down on the other side of his desk. “You’ve been on edge for the last few days,” she said, hesitant and anxious not to cause offence. “I just wondered if there was something, you know, that you wanted to talk about with me.”

“What do you mean?” His question was a little too sharp.

Sammi had been his assistant for eight years, and had never once questioned his judgement. Now she looked on the verge of saying something that could change their relationship forever. She studied his eyes, waiting for him to speak first, then realised he would never open up to her. “Maddox, I know about Camley Lane.”

He played with the ballpoint pen on his desk, unable to speak.

“If you’re in any trouble you should talk to me, because I might be able to help.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Maddox. I saw you talking with that awful man, the one with the tattoos. I saw you through the window of the pub. I’m not an idiot; I know when something’s wrong. And I know that anything you’ve done is for the good of the company. You’re trying to get hold of the property rights before Marianne finds out. Is that man blackmailing you?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

“Suppose I told you? What do you think you could do? You’re a secretary, for God’s sake.”

The only way to get rid of her was to hurt her. She studied him a moment longer, unconvinced