‘Since being married, you mean?’ Wendy said.
‘I’m not trying to insult the woman or imply anything. But if she’s got a habit of hooking up with guests at the Fitzroy or elsewhere, we need to know about her. There could be another lover, disturbed that he’s not the only one. From what you said, she didn’t love the jogger, only used him as a plaything, someone to get her rocks off with, to use the vernacular.’
‘I’m meeting with her later today,’ Wendy said. ‘Outside of the hotel, neutral territory. She seems upset and she wants to talk.’
‘She doesn’t want her husband to find out. Good provider, is he?’ Larry, who could not see the woman in the way that Wendy did, remained sceptical. To him, Christine Mason, a woman his age, wouldn’t take a young lover unless there were other forces at play.
‘I’ll find out, let you know.’
‘Christine Mason’s husband is involved with selling weapons,’ Bridget said.
‘And your point?’ Isaac said.
‘If what he’s doing is secretive, could Colin Young have been keeping a watch on him, using the man’s wife to delve deep, industrial or military espionage, possibly a foreign power?’
‘We deal with the facts for now.’
‘Just a thought.’
‘A good thought, I would agree. And personally, I don’t want to go down that road. What we have, until we know differently, is a young and fit man seducing a woman who may have had a difficult home life, feeling in need of attention.’
‘Sad,’ Wendy said.
‘Sad or otherwise, find out who Colin Young is. Once we know that, then the pieces of the puzzle will fit together.’
‘You hope,’ Larry said.
‘It’d be good to have an easy win, for once.’
‘And a trip to Jamaica,’ Wendy said.
‘Don’t go there, Wendy,’ Isaac said. ‘Deal with the murder enquiry, not my personal life.’
‘But we care.’
‘That may be, and I thank you for your concern, but it’s going to be alright this time. And now, after our heart to heart, please get out of my office and give me results,’ Isaac said, embarrassed that he had opened up more than he should have.
***
Larry and Wendy accepted the mantle to find out who Colin Young was and what his movements had been in the hours leading up to his death.
Wendy took a couple of uniforms with her, both juniors at Challis Street: Constable Katrina Taylor, a tall, slim Scottish woman with dark, shoulder-length hair. Personable, attractive, and a woman with a future in the police force, Wendy thought. The second constable, Elvis Mortimer, was in his early twenties. A stocky individual with a chip on his shoulder, and parents who must have loved the American singer. It was a good job, Wendy thought, that she hadn’t named her eldest son Cat, after a famous English singer that had been popular, and then had found religion and became Yusuf Islam. She couldn’t see Cat Gladstone or Yusuf Gladstone working, any more than the pairing of Elvis and Mortimer. For one thing, the man couldn’t sing, and he wasn’t the sort of man for girls to swoon over, although there had been complaints that he had rubbed up against a couple of the women in the station, including Katrina Taylor. The man was on a short leash. One more incident and he would be out on his ear.
‘We’ll keep to the south of Hyde Park, focus on Knightsbridge and Kensington. That’s a lot of hotels, and if we need help, we’ll bring more people in,’ Wendy said to the two constables who sat some distance from each other.
‘There would be hundreds,’ Mortimer said.
‘So?’
‘It will take forever.’
‘And you’ve got something better to do? Meeting up with the chief superintendent later on for a drink?’ Wendy realised that she was allowing her prejudice against the constable to show. The man had been warned officially; it wasn’t for her to aggravate the situation.
‘Constable Mortimer’s right,’ Katrina Taylor said.
‘It’s a tough one. Bridget Halloran is preparing a list of the hotels, discounting some that we’ve already canvassed. First off, we’ll start making phone calls, send an email back up with a photo and name, as well as the addresses.’
‘Isn’t there a central reservations database for the hotels in London?’ Mortimer said. Wendy didn’t warm to the man, but he was no dummy. He was asking the right questions, had been able to see the path to take to maximise the possibility of a result, minimise the legwork. Wendy would grant that the latter was not something she looked forward to, having done enough in her time.
‘We’ll work with Bridget on that. Most bookings are made over the internet, and they would require a credit card. He’s used Colin Young on the card he used to pay the bill at the Fitzroy. If he stayed in one five-star hotel, we'd assume that he stayed in another of similar quality. A bit hit and miss on that one, but we need to eliminate those further.’
‘He could have walked in off the street, paid cash, or he could have rented an Airbnb. They’re good. I’ve used them myself once or twice,’ Katrina Taylor said.
‘Our man stayed somewhere, and we need to find it.’
‘I read the reports about him,’ Mortimer said.
‘What do you reckon?’ Wendy said.
‘If he was a keen jogger, then maybe he belonged to a club, competed in marathons.’
Wendy knew that she had picked well. Constable Taylor had the enthusiasm; Mortimer, apart from his leering eyes that stripped naked every young female in the station, had the makings of an excellent investigative officer, if he lasted that long.
***
Larry knew that Colin Young was an enthusiastic jogger, which meant he had probably run
