The detective superintendent quickly exited the office and made a phone call.
‘Midday at his office,’ he said on his return. ‘If he tries to talk you down, stand your ground.’
‘I believe I can handle him,’ Isaac replied.
***
Wendy, before she continued the search for the Marjorie Frobisher in London, went into the office at Challis Street. It was empty. Isaac, she knew, was meeting Detective Superintendent Goddard. Farhan, she had no idea where he had gone. She made a strong cup of tea, extra sugar, and raided the biscuit jar. As no one was around, she opened the window and lit a cigarette, careful to ensure the smoke and ash went out of the window. She vowed to cut down.
The cigarette dispensed with, she phoned Bridget Halloran. She knew she would be able to assist. ‘I need to find Marjorie Frobisher,’ Wendy said.
‘What did you find out?’
‘She met a friend. Someone we know. We need to find out possible locations where he may have taken her.’
‘Couldn’t you just ask him?’
‘DCI Cook will deal with that, but the situation is complicated.’
‘What do you mean?’ Bridget asked. It wasn’t necessary for her to know, but Wendy reasoned that she had gone out of her way to assist, and besides she was a friend who she trusted.
‘We need to find her before other people do.’
‘What if they find her?’
‘We’re not sure. She could disappear again.’
‘And not come back this time?’
‘That’s a possibility.’
‘Then, for all our sakes, we’d better find her first.’
‘Strictest confidence.’
‘You can trust me, you know that,’ Bridget replied.
‘I know. I just had to say it, though.’
***
It came as a complete surprise to Isaac how agreeable Angus MacTavish was when he met him. Richard Goddard had expected him to be gruff, unpleasant, but here was the firm handshake, the pat on the shoulder, and ‘pleased to meet you’.
Mrs Gregory had dealt with the tea and cakes. She took a shine to Isaac as well.
With all three men seated comfortably and Mrs Gregory in the other room, Angus MacTavish spoke. ‘DCI Cook, you want to know about Marjorie Frobisher.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You realise that Detective Superintendent Goddard and I have met several times to discuss this matter.’
‘Yes.’
‘DCI Cook, are you aware of a child?’ MacTavish asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And how important it is that the child does not find out who the mother is?’
‘As well as the father?’ Richard Goddard said.
‘Detective Superintendent Goddard is right,’ MacTavish said. ‘In fact, the father is more important than the mother.’
‘Who is the father?’ Isaac asked.
‘That’s the problem. I just don’t know.’
‘You have a shrewd idea.’
‘That’s all I have. I know that Detective Superintendent Goddard thinks it’s the prime minister.’
‘Could it be someone else?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘It may help if I have some names,’ Isaac said. ‘We’re chasing shadows, coming up with blanks at the present moment.’
‘Tell me what you’ve got. How about the two murders? Any leads there?’ MacTavish asked.
‘We know how they died, but why is unclear.’
‘Tied in with this damn woman’s disappearance?’
‘Circumstantial,’ Isaac said, ‘but failing any other motives, it seems more than likely. Charles Sutherland was threatening to say something, and Sally Jenkins had a tendency to eavesdrop.’
‘They may have been eliminated because someone thought they did know something,’ MacTavish said.
‘Someone killed them purely on the off-chance?’ Richard Goddard asked, anxious to remain vital to the meeting. He had seen it before. Take DCI Isaac Cook, the tall, attractive and very black policeman along to meet someone important, and they would be immediately charmed by him, while he, the more senior of the two, a dour white man, would be left floundering. Still, he was pleased that Angus MacTavish was opening up, something he had not done with him.
‘Detective Superintendent Goddard mentioned on the phone that there may be someone who is a plant,’ MacTavish said.
‘A woman,’ Isaac said. ‘She’s close to the action, not involved in the murders.’
‘You feel she may be keeping her ear to the ground. Can you find out if that is the case?’
‘I can try. Do you want her to know we’re on to her?’
‘No, I don’t think so. It may only precipitate another action.’
‘Such as another murder?’ Richard Goddard asked.
‘It’s possible,’ Isaac said.
‘Marjorie Frobisher? Dead or alive?’ MacTavish asked. Isaac wasn’t sure what to say. He saw no reason to trust the man; no reason not to.
‘We believe she is alive.’
‘Then keep her that way. I don’t believe this government or any other government deserves to be in power when they condone murder as a solution.’
‘Is that what’s happened?’ Isaac asked.
‘A can of worms. Anything’s possible,’ Angus MacTavish said.
‘What about the plant?’
I’ll check her out for you. May take a few days.’
‘Thank you,’ Isaac replied.
‘What do you reckon?’ Detective Superintendent Goddard asked as he and Isaac drove away.
‘He’s a politician. How would we know if he was telling us the truth?’
‘He could have just been spinning us a line.’
‘Exactly. We keep the news relating to Marjorie Frobisher to ourselves. I’d say she is as good as dead if we don’t find her first.’
‘And if we do?’
‘I’ve no idea. It’s not our function to protect people; our function is to catch murderers, prevent further murders.’
‘With Marjorie Frobisher, that amounts to the same thing.’
‘You’re right, but protect her from whom? Who can we trust?’
‘Nobody, Isaac. Nobody.’ Detective Superintendent Goddard summed up the situation succinctly.
Chapter 32
Farhan was not handling the situation well. On the one hand, he had a wife he did not love, but still the mother of his children. He realised he had not been giving them the attention that they deserved recently. Not because he didn’t want to, but because of the pressure
