***
Superintendent Caddick realised that his DCI knew more about how to run a police investigation than he did. And now, in his office, he was confronted by additional responsibilities: the need to deal with staffing levels, the demands of preparing an annual budget, the need to make a presentation at Scotland Yard to his superiors. He was not nervous of standing up in front of a group, but now he had to stand in front of those who would ask questions which he would not be able to answer.
He phoned the one person who could help him. ‘Commissioner, I have to present an updated report on the department. I’m not sure what to do,’ Caddick admitted.
Commissioner Alwyn Davies did not want to hear from members of his team, and especially not Caddick. He knew the deficiencies of the man, but had only put him in Goddard’s place because he did not like the former head of Homicide.
Davies knew that Isaac Cook was competent, although he would not admit it, and that Seth Caddick, apart from his loyalty, was not, and now the man was in trouble, as was he. Too many terrorist attacks in the city and the man he had put in charge of Counter Terrorism Command was struggling, the same as Caddick, the same as he was.
He had studied his contract, knew that if he could hold out for another thirteen months, he would be able to resign with a sixty per cent retention of his pension, but he did not know if even that was possible.
Davies knew the forces were gathering, and Caddick was about to go down the tube. As for terrorism, he didn’t know what to do. He wished that he had let sleeping dogs lie, and had left competent people in their places rather than bringing in his team. And what did they give? Not a lot when he had to deal with senior politicians who were baying for his blood.
‘I can’t help you,’ Davies said.
Caddick, isolated in his office, could see no way out. He looked through the previous reports presented by Goddard: meticulous, full of detail. He took the template and filled in what he could, which was not sufficient. Panicking, he knew that a solution to the murder of Amelia Brice would give him some breathing space, but how to achieve it? His DCI was in charge, and wouldn’t allow him to become involved, but he was the superintendent, he could do what he wanted. He closed the report and left his office.
***
Wendy Gladstone met up with Shirley O’Rourke. The woman had been released on her own surety; her trial was in six weeks’ time.
‘There’s a good chance I’ll get off,’ Shirley O’Rourke said.
The two women met in a restaurant close to Challis Street. ‘Your business?’ Wendy asked. She had to admit that the woman who sat next to her looked better than previously.
‘I’ve closed it, sold my house.’
‘I thought you liked that house?’
‘I did, but mounting a good defence costs money.’
‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘There’s nothing to be sorry about. I committed the offence, I’ll admit to it, but I’ll state extenuating circumstances: recent divorce, family tragedy.’
‘Are they true?’
‘In part. I’ll leave it up to my lawyer. And if I serve time, I’ve still enough money to live well. It’s strange, when I was there in that office, all that I wanted was money. Greed, I suppose, but now a comfortable life, free of worry, will do me.’
Wendy felt some kindness for the woman. A waiter came over, the two women ordered.
‘And what about you, Sergeant Gladstone?’ Shirley O’Rourke said.
‘Another few more years, and then I’ll take it easy.’
‘The same as me.’
‘You were ruthless in business. You did not always treat your employees well.’
‘I’ll not deny it. Business is tough, and I was tougher than most. Maybe I regret some of it, but not much. It was fun while it lasted.’
‘We’ve still not solved the murders of Amelia Brice and Christine Devon.’
‘You’ve had some success. I read about it in the newspaper.’
‘The murder of one man.’
‘And the others?’
‘Innocent until proven guilty. We’ll put those responsible in prison, but for other crimes.’
‘Amelia used to go around with some rough men.’
‘Rasta Joe, did you know him?’
‘Not really. I used to see most of the gang members from time to time. They were always civil to me.’
‘Violent men.’
‘Not with me. I never had any trouble with them.’
‘Why do you think Amelia liked them?’
‘Amelia was rich, spoilt, never worked a day in her life, or not seriously anyway. She was looking for the thrill, the chance to walk on the wild side.’
‘Anyone she preferred in particular?’
‘I wasn’t taking any notice. I knew her, of course. We’d say hello, nothing more. What she got up to wasn’t my business.’
‘But you were friendly with her father?’
‘He never asked me to keep a watch out for her.’
‘He must have been disturbed by her behaviour. Did he ever mention it?’
‘Only once.’
‘Did you ever see Amelia leave the pub with anyone in particular?’
‘Not me. I’d leave early. I saw her there once with another woman.’
‘Who?’
‘The one that she shared the house with.’
‘Gwen Waverley?’
‘Gwen, yes, her. I never knew her surname.’
‘When was this?’
‘One year, maybe longer. The woman didn’t stay long.’
‘According to our information, they were no longer friends then.’
‘I don’t think they
