Isaac was on hands-free, Larry and Greenwood on the conference call. ‘Palmer hasn’t made the connection yet?’ Isaac said.
‘Not according to my contacts,’ Larry said.
‘He soon will. Is the tattoo correct?’
‘I’ve seen it,’ Wendy said. ‘Not that I thought much of it. There’s more than one woman in London with tattoos on her arm.’
‘Palmer is not looking for those women,’ Greenwood said. ‘If he talks to the right people, he’ll find out the name.’
‘And when he does? What do you reckon?’ Isaac said.
‘Barely able to blow the skin off a rice pudding, but if the man’s aggrieved, sees himself as the dead woman’s avenger, then who knows.’
‘He’s capable,’ Wendy said. ‘Men like him keep to themselves all their lives, but once riled, they’re unstoppable. If he finds Samantha Matthews, he’ll do something stupid, regardless. Probably thinks there’s a place for him in heaven, Liz at his side.’
‘I don’t think he’s religious,’ Greenwood said.
‘He doesn’t have to be,’ Isaac said.
‘What do we do?’ Larry asked.
‘We’re not going to give Samantha Matthews protection, that’s for sure. And if we let her know about Palmer, then we know what will happen.’
‘Her father will act.’
‘Catch-22,’ Isaac said. ‘Palmer’s heading into areas that he doesn’t understand or know.’
‘Or cares about,’ Wendy said.
‘What’s Wally Vincent got to say for himself?’ Greenwood said. ‘He’s got the judge down there. He may know more, possibly find another clue from Stanford.’
‘Not sure he can,’ Isaac said. ‘We can get him on the line. Give me two minutes to bring him in.’
‘We’re not far from Palmer’s place,’ Wendy said.
‘Stay back, keep an eye on the house from a distance; see if anyone’s there.’
The phone rang in Brighton, Wally Vincent answered.
‘We’ve got Jim Greenwood on the line down in Cornwall,’ Isaac said. ‘Palmer has a important clue to this mysterious woman that we didn’t know about previously.’
‘McIntyre’s daughter?’
‘That’s it. And the man doesn’t need proof, not like we do.’
‘I don’t think there’s much I can do,’ Vincent said. ‘Charles Stanford, from what we can see, hasn’t got anything to do with this.’
‘Talk to the man, explain the situation. He hates McIntyre. We need to know if there’s anything else that he may have missed, something that will give an insight into McIntyre; a reason to meet with the man again.’
‘I thought you were going to do that anyway.’
‘We’re looking for Palmer at the present time. The man’s been hanging around in London, nearby to where his brother lived, but now he’s disappeared, and we’re worried.’
‘We’re not the only ones in this street keeping a watch on Palmer’s house,’ Wendy said. ‘Do you see the Mercedes over there?’
‘I see it,’ Isaac said. ‘I even know whose car it is.’
‘McIntyre’s?’ Larry said.
‘It’s the same registration number. We can’t see the driver from here.’
‘You know what that means?’ Wendy said.
‘Bob Palmer is in serious trouble. McIntyre’s out to get the man.’
‘He’ll protect her at all costs,’ Larry said. ‘Bob Palmer is a dead man if we don’t get to him first.’
‘Samantha is at greater risk. McIntyre, or whoever is in that car, will value their own life, Palmer won’t.’
‘Do we have anyone keeping a watch on her?’ Isaac said.
‘Not round the clock,’ Larry said.
***
Wendy saw the Mercedes pull out from the kerb. Quickly, she started her car and drove into the driveway of a nearby house.
‘It’s a cul-de-sac; he’ll have to come back this way. I don’t want us to be seen,’ she said.
‘Keep a watch on him in your rear-view mirror,’ Isaac said. ‘See if you can see who the driver is.’
Inside the house where Wendy had parked, a face peered out. The front door opened soon after. ‘You can’t park there,’ the occupant of the house said.
Isaac wanted to get out of the car and show his warrant card, but he didn’t want the driver of the Mercedes to see him.
Wendy waved to the woman, tried to let her know to hold on for one minute, but she wouldn’t be quietened.
Isaac smiled at the woman, said nothing.
The Mercedes drove by, both Wendy and Isaac looking in the rear-view mirror. Wendy glanced around, trying to get a better view. There was only one thing they were sure of through the tinted windows of the other vehicle: Gareth Armstrong was driving.
Isaac got out of the car and laid on the charm.
‘Sorry about my outburst’ the woman said. ‘We get a few hooligans around here, blaring music, causing trouble. Only the other week, they had a massive party up the road, the police came. We didn’t get much sleep that night.’
‘How long have you lived here?’ Wendy said.
‘Twelve, going on thirteen years. It was a good place back then, but it’s gone to the dogs now.’
‘The house at the end of the street, the one with the yellow front door. What can you tell us about it?’
‘Not a lot. Keeps to himself. My husband uses him to do his tax returns every year. He’s self-employed. Bob does a decent job, doesn’t charge too much. There’s always some money to come back to us. Apart from that, there’s not much I can tell you about him. He doesn’t talk a lot, polite when you see him, which is not that often.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Not really. We know he had a brother, but he died some years ago. He mentioned it to my husband once when they were over at his house.’
‘Have you seen him lately?’
‘He was here the other day. I could see the light on in his house, but I didn’t see him. His car was out on the street, not sure why, as he’s got a garage to one side; but as I said, he minds his
