***
Isaac Cook and the Homicide team at Challis Street realised that the three deaths so far were unlikely to be the last. Malcolm Woolston, now no longer referred to as Big Greg, had not been seen for several weeks. The patrols of Gwen Barrow’s and her daughter’s streets had declined in regularity, and the uniforms at their homes had been pulled out after seven days.
DCS Goddard had been hoping for an early arrest, but that was not happening, and Commissioner Davies was still hovering, waiting to make his move. Isaac knew that something had to be done, but what? The links had been established, and the research department was the key, as was Gwen Barrow. Isaac had noticed Barrow and his wife at a local restaurant one night, and he had to admit they looked happy enough.
‘We’re getting nowhere fast on this case,’ Isaac said. It was a throwaway line, he knew that, but what else was there for him to say. Malcolm Woolston had been visible, and then he had disappeared.
‘Maybe there’s no more,’ Wendy said.
‘The man phoned me up, Larry was here. He did not sound as though he was about to stop, quite the opposite. He told us that there were others who needed to be dealt with and that he was concerned for the safety of his family.’
‘The man was sane?’ Wendy asked.
‘What do you reckon? Larry said.
‘It’s always hard to tell with these people, but we’ve checked on him. A brilliant man, a lot of academic papers, one book on advanced mathematics, although I couldn’t make any sense of it, and then he tells us a story about others who want to take his research and use it as a weapon. He sounded sane enough, but he was determined. We’ve come across these sorts of people before. Most of them appear sane, but…’
‘As you say, the screw loose, the chink in their armour, and what is this man’s chink?’
‘His weakness is his family. If these people are as vicious as he says they are, they’ll not hesitate to use them to get to him.’
‘But they haven’t,’ Larry said.
‘Not yet, and Woolston’s widow is married to one of the guilty, according to him. That’s probably their only protection.’
‘And no trace on his phone call?’ Wendy said.
‘We’re rehashing old ground here. That’s known already.’
***
Sue Christie had acted innocently with Malcolm Woolston, confident that he had bought her ‘poor innocent little me’ attitude. She knew that he had been easy to deal with, the same as he had always been. Even all those years ago she had known that he fancied her, but he was old school, a believer in the sanctity of marriage, honouring vows, fidelity. She knew she was not; she knew what she needed to do.
Her first action was to move her mother to somewhere safe: easily arranged. After that, there was one sister living overseas, another in Cornwall. She would need to be contacted, and that offer of a trip abroad would be hers.
Malcolm had given her twenty-four hours from the time of their meeting, which meant he would be phoning her that very day, and now there were two police officers in the office; one, the good-looking black man, the other, white, going to pot with his beer belly. She knew she fancied the black DCI, but not in the office, and not that day. She was a voracious man-eater, she knew that, but now she had to save those she cared for, or at least her mother and her sister, who was about to leave the country for a two-week holiday.
She had strung Ed Barrow along for years, made him feel that she cared for him, which she had once, but now he was a convenient lay, and more importantly, the way to a significant amount of money. He may not have known all the players involved, but she certainly did. General Claude Smythe had expressed interest in the project from its conception. He knew what it was worth, and how to get the money. He and his brother, the secretary of state for defence, were both ex-lovers, both opportunistic.
It was not often she saw the general, but whenever she did, she made sure that he left her with a smile on his face. Now she would know where the missing information was, and how to smuggle it out of the building, making sure that Ed did not know. He was expendable, and if Gwen was to be the grieving widow for the second time, then so be it. She could not care less.
‘Mr Barrow,’ Isaac said. He looked at Sue Christie, could see the smile on her face. He assumed it was for him. He had to admit that he liked the look of her, but her reputation, especially with Barrow, made her cheap and not his type.
‘He’s not here. I don’t expect to see him today.’
‘Do you have any idea where he is?’
‘Personal business, that’s all I know. Finding out that his wife’s first husband is alive must make it difficult for him and Gwen.’
‘It probably does, but it’s important that we see him today.’
‘Have you tried his home, his phone?’
‘We have.’
‘I’ll let him know that you want to see him if he comes in.’
The two police officers left the building. ‘It’s a good job you checked in the car park first,’ Isaac said.
‘The man’s there. What are they up to?’ Larry said.
***
‘They’ve gone?’ Barrow asked.
‘For now. The situation is getting dangerous.’
‘Your mother?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Your sister?’
‘I’ve done what I can.’
‘And Malcolm’s phoning today?’
