After ten minutes, they heard the melodious tones of DCS Goddard. The man had made the trip from his office to Homicide. Isaac, for once, was pleased to see him.
‘DCI, what do you make of all this?’ Goddard asked. He had closed the door to Isaac’s office on entering. Larry was still there. Outside, Wendy and Bridget attempted to make sense of the muffled sounds coming from the room.
‘At the end, he gave me an oblique compliment,’ Isaac said.
‘Brice wants his daughter’s murder to be solved.’
‘So do we. We’ve no motive for either of the women to be killed. We have our suspicions but nothing solid.’
‘Davies is going to go crazy. Be prepared for anything,’ Goddard said.
‘We’ll continue with the investigation. Any reason for Brice taking on Davies?’
‘Political, I assume.’
‘Assume or know?’
‘DI Hill, Larry, could you leave, please. I need to talk to DCI Cook in private.’
Larry got up from his seat and went outside. He realised that politics, national and internal, were at play.
‘Isaac,’ Goddard said, ‘Brice was fed the information.’
‘Why?’
‘He wants his daughter’s death solved, that’s certain, and he also wants to get in with the senior politicians.’
‘Who fed him the information?’
‘There’s a move to shake up the Met. The prime minister wants Davies out; sees him as incompetent.’
‘But he doesn’t want to be seen to be openly against the man as it would undermine confidence in our police service,’ Isaac said.
‘Exactly. So Brice’s been fed certain information on the authority of someone senior; someone who must be seen to be impartial.’
‘Clothed in ermine, answers to the title of Lord?’
‘I can’t answer that question.’
‘The previous commissioner, Charles Shaw,’ Isaac said.
‘As you say,’ Goddard replied, a wry smile on his face. ‘They’ve been trying for the last year, but the man’s slippery. He keeps putting his people in authority, sidelining any who can cause him trouble.’
‘That would include you,’ Isaac said.
‘If he removes me, then I’ll sit it out.’
‘It doesn’t help with our investigations. I’ve still got three murders to solve.’
‘It does help. Hopefully, Davies will be too scared to bring his own people in now. The focus is on him and his supporters. His interview with Brice may bring you some protection, but you still need to wrap this up.’
***
Billy Devon continued to work at the shop. The manager continued to keep the young man in his sight. It was clear that the situation was coming to a head. On the one hand, Billy was receiving the occasional phone call about the money he owed – ‘It’s now at twenty-six thousand. One more day and your sister will be paying off the interest.’ – and on the other hand was a man who expressed racist sentiments. Billy phoned Issac.
‘What about Charisa?’ Billy asked.
‘What about you?’ Isaac asked in reply.
‘They still intend to take Charisa.’
‘We’re aware of that. You’ll need to stall them when they want their money.’
‘But how? I’ve given you the money I had for them.’
‘I can attempt to protect you from criminal prosecution. I can’t protect you if you continue to go to work.’
‘I need to work. If they don’t see me here, they’ll take Charisa.’
Isaac could see the truth of the situation. It was not possible to protect the two of them if one continued to work in a shop and the other continued to attend college. He phoned Charisa. ‘We need to protect you,’ he said.
‘But how? I can’t hide, not around here, and I’m not leaving.’
‘You’re aware of the situation.’
‘We’re trusting you,’ Charisa said.
‘That’s the problem. Officially, I can’t offer you protection. When’s Troy back from America?’
‘Not for another week.’
Isaac knew that the situation was dangerous and the protection of two people was not his priority, not even his responsibility, but it was clear enough from Rasta Joe that Negril Bob would carry out his threat. Isaac took an unexpected action and phoned his former school friend. ‘Joe, we need to protect Billy and Charisa Devon,’ he said.
Rasta Joe, pleased to hear from Isaac, said, ‘Negril Bob’s not a person to mess with.’
‘You’d have a better chance to protect them than we will.’
‘It’ll cost you,’ Rasta Joe said.
‘What’s the price?’
‘Your friendship.’
‘You know I can’t do that. You’re a gang leader; I’m a police officer.’
‘Then your trust in me to do the right thing.’
‘I wouldn’t phone you if I didn’t trust you. I want Billy and Charisa safe, and I know you won’t let me down.’
‘We’ll try, but you’d better be prepared in case it gets nasty.’
‘We’ll be there.’
‘What about Billy? He’s been stealing.’
‘I’ll deal with it,’ Isaac said. The two men ended the phone call.
Isaac then phoned the owner of the shop where Billy worked. They arranged to meet later that day.
***
Quentin Waverley met Jeremy Brice. The two men had been friends from the first time Amelia had brought her latest boyfriend home. ‘I heard you on the radio,’ Waverley said.
‘Were you still seeing Amelia?’ Brice asked.
‘Sometimes.’
‘You should have married her.’
‘I know,’ Waverley admitted. ‘She would have made a good wife.’
‘Yet you went and married her friend. You’ve been a bastard, you know that.’
‘I know that, but you’ve been one in your time.’
‘I still am. You heard how I spoke to the Met’s commissioner?’
‘You were tough.’
‘Did you kill my daughter?’ Brice asked.
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because she would have told Gwen that you were still sleeping with her.’
‘Are you shocked?’
‘Why should I be? Amelia was a reflection of her parents; fidelity never meant very much
