“What came out of this summit meeting?” asked Lydia.
“We decided on the Maldives for the honeymoon,” said Luke. “As for the date, it will depend on our family's and friend's availability, but we’re aiming for late March, early April next year.”
“That’s great,” said Alex. “Cancel any souffle for this Friday night. I have a hunch Gus will want to arrange a night out for the Crime Review Team at the Waggon & Horses. We can add that to our list of things to celebrate.”
“It’s long overdue,” said Neil. “If Gus mentions it later, I might give Rick Chalmers a call. He always enjoys a party.”
“Is he married, Neil?” asked Blessing.
“Not these days,” said Neil. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you, Blessing?”
“Not now, Neil,” said Blessing. “At least I’d have someone to chat to, although I didn’t think we were compatible when I met him.”
“What happened to Dave, your traffic cop?” asked Alex.
“He said he wasn’t ready to settle down,” sighed Blessing.
“Oh, Blessing,” said Lydia. “Men can be dumb, can’t they.”
“I wouldn’t go out with him myself, but Rick’s a good copper,” said Neil. “He was a great help on the Stacey Read case. Rick is used to working undercover. I wouldn’t have fancied spending hour after hour watching for cars and faces out at the Honda factory. It was tough enough monitoring Rod Maidment’s place, where the suspect was static for ten hours a night. He’s good company, and that’s what you need right now. Don’t waste time brooding.”
“Rick likes his beer and fast food,” said Luke. “He’s still one of the lads, even though he’s a couple of years older than me. You deserve better, Blessing. Whatever you do, don’t miss out on a night out with us if you haven’t got a date. We’re a team; we’ll look after you.”
“Thanks, Luke,” said Blessing. “I’ll be there. Divya might enjoy a night out if her husband is working at the hospital.”
“Good thinking, Blessing,” said Alex. “Divya worked with Rick and me in the Hub on the Burnside case.”
“The Waggon & Horses won’t know what hit it,” laughed Neil.
Gus pootled through Seend, climbed Caen Hill, and followed a steady stream of traffic through Devizes. As he parked the Focus in the visitor’s car park, he glanced towards the ACC’s office window. Kenneth Truelove was nowhere in sight.
After signing in at Reception, Gus took the stairs to the mezzanine two at a time. Vera Butler had her eyes fixed on her computer screen. He could hear Kassie Trotter’s distinctive voice somewhere in the administration area advertising last weekend’s baking produce. His unsolicited burst of energy had been a waste of effort.
“Is Kenneth in his office, Vera?”
Vera nodded.
Gus decided it wise to escape to the relative safety of the ACC’s office. There was a chill wind blowing on the mezzanine floor this morning. He tapped on the door and entered.
“Geoff Mercer, what a surprise,” he said. “Good morning to you too, sir. I bring glad tidings from the Old Police Station office.”
“That’s enough frivolity for this morning, Freeman,” said Kenneth Truelove. “DS Mercer is available again for our weekly review. Thank goodness we can move forward knowing that he‘s with us for the foreseeable future.”
“I was going nowhere,” said Geoff. “Glad tidings, you said. Did you pull a rabbit out of the hat again?”
“There was nothing magical, Geoff, just old-fashioned, solid police work,” said Gus. “The Duncan case proved baffling. But as with several cases the team has handled, the answers were there the first time around if the detectives involved asked the right questions.”
“Please tell me you haven’t exposed weaknesses in the work of another respected officer, Freeman,” said Kenneth.
“I don’t blame Phil Banks, sir,” said Gus. “He did what he thought was right. I wouldn’t have done any different. If Mrs Campbell-Drake had told him everything she saw on the night of the murder, my team would never have needed to review the case.”
“Phil, is it now, not DCI Banks?” asked Geoff.
“I found him easy to get on with, Geoff. You must have rubbed him up the wrong way.”
“Take me through your potted version of the case, Freeman,” said Kenneth. “I’ll try to find time to study the contents of that folder later. Things are hectic here this week.”
“I sensed a mood of disquiet outside, sir,” said Gus. “I hope it’s not catching.”
“So do I, Freeman,” said Kenneth.
“Right, sir. I think we should get on. A moving target is harder to hit. The Duncan murder case was as good as closed once Alex Hardy and I returned from the Isle of Man. The icing on the cake was the arrest of Yuri Kovalev on Wednesday lunchtime. Lydia Logan Barre was right; Duncan’s killer was back in the country.”
“I’m not entirely up to speed with this part of the case, Freeman,” said Kenneth. “Who arrested this Kovalev chap, and what’s happening to him?”
“Something bothered me as we drove south from Liverpool,” said Gus. “You know how it is, everything seems to have fallen into place, but you can’t allow yourself to believe it’s over. It kept me awake on Tuesday night, and then when I reached the office in the morning, it hit me. The life of the man we left in a tranquil holiday pub on the Isle of Man was in danger. I called the local police and suggested they keep watch on the place. I mentioned your name, sir. That worked like a charm; you’ll be pleased to hear. Once I knew that the bar owner was safe, I could relax.”
“The fog is clearing, Freeman,” said the ACC. “Slowly.”
“Sorry, sir,” said Gus. “I struggled from the outset with the background information on Alan Duncan and Maddy Mills. Everything pointed to them being in the wrong jobs based on their education and history,
