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  Chapter 48

  The lights in Tricia Williams’ cell never switched off. They made it impossible to keep track of time. She thought it might have been two days since she had been dumped in here. Her instincts were telling her that she was being held in the centre of London; something about the traffic noises on the journey to this place had convinced her this was the case.

  She was being tormented by recollections of what had happened. The man had appeared in her bathroom as if out of thin air, holding a large knife. She had no idea how he had crept up on her and the fear had stripped her of the ability to react, not even able to scream. The man had stared at her nakedness and then smirked before ordering her to get dressed.

  As he led her out of the house she kept telling herself to run but it was as though he had her under a spell. He had parked close by and roughly shoved her on to the back seat. She had known her last chance of escape would end when the door slammed shut. Her captor had produced that unpleasant smirk again, he had known it too. He produced a cable tie which he used to bind her hands together. The plastic biting painfully into her flesh. Then he had placed a bag over her head. It had smelled rank, like stale body odour. She wondered if he had grabbed other women.

  He briefly lifted the bag and pointed at the heavily tinted rear windows before pressing his lips close to her ear making her stomach churn. He had held her tight to stop her pulling away as he whispered, “no one will be able to see you sitting there so do yourself a favour and sit nice and quiet.”

  After that she was aware of a constant rumble of traffic, hence her confidence that they were somewhere in London. Finally, they had stopped and there was a sensation of being in a lift before she was bundled from the car and dumped into her cell. The man had removed the hood and cable tie, allowing her to massage the livid red marks on her wrists. After that the only person she had seen was the one who said his name was Sykes.

  She was in a light doze when the door opened and Sykes stood there. Normally he waited for her to say something, but this time was different. He marched in and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her roughly to her feet. Then he spun her round as easily as if she weighed nothing at all and yanked her arm painfully up her back. As she started to cry out he let her arm go and spun her back to face him.

  “You need to come and see something and I don’t want you trying anything silly. That was just to give you a little taste of how painful things could get if you mess about. You can’t get away and there is nobody going to come and rescue you, so do as you’re told.” He grabbed her chin with his right hand and squeezed hard. She couldn’t believe how strong he was. She thought he might even be able to break her jaw.

  “Do you understand?” Her distress multiplied as she realised how calmly he was behaving. She had no doubt he would hurt her without hesitation. All she could do was nod. She was truly terrified and worried she might wet herself.

  He walked out of the door and she followed meekly, her brittle spirit almost broken by this aggressive treatment. He guided her past three more cell doors, all closed, and stopped at the next one which had its door open. She looked inside to see a white coated lab assistant, wearing a mask, an incubator with a robotic arm attached for moving trays of test tubes and a lab-quality electron microscope. Then the powerful aroma of human cells being used in experiments wafted over her. It was so familiar that it brought tears to her eyes.

  As she stood there trying to make sense of what she was looking at two more men startled her by suddenly pushing past her and walking over to the cot which was covered by a sheet. As she watched transfixed one of the men pulled the sheet away and she saw it had been covering the body of a young white woman. The men grabbed the corpse and hauled it out of the cell and over to a parked car where it was tossed into the boot.

  The next thing she knew she was staring into the blue eyes of a large and very muscular man. There was something about him that made him even more unsettling than Sykes. Her stomach burned with acid and she wondered if she was about to be murdered. She couldn’t imagine anyone would want her to stay alive after seeing that body. She lowered her eyes submissively. As she waited an image of her mother came into her mind and this time tears ran down her cheeks.

  The man finally lifted her chin and told her to look at him. “I hope you understand how serious we are. The body of that young woman you just saw.” He turned and stared at the car. “She has provided the embryo cells we needed, and I want you to make sure that everything is good and that you get the same results here that you were getting in your lab.”

  He touched her face, but there was nothing tender in it. “It will be much easier for all of us if you do co-operate, but if you don’t then I can’t afford to waste time. I’m told you are an intelligent woman so you can guess what happens to you if you don’t do as required.”

  With that he turned on his heel and left. The two thugs got in the car and drove it onto the lift which whisked them up to street level. Within moments only Sykes, Tricia and the lab assistant were left.

  “I suggest you get on with it,” said Sykes. He didn’t say it, but he was very disappointed that she had collapsed into tears. Perhaps he would let his boys have a bit of fun with her after all. He no longer thought that she deserved his special attention.

  Chapter 49

  Tim Ross had been talkative. But not in a good way. From the moment he had been arrested he demanded to see his lawyer. Back at Victoria, Hooley had tried to persuade him that co-operating was in his best interest. Ross was having none of it. Anything that sounded like a question was greeted with a firm ‘no comment’. Five minutes of that was enough to convince Hooley he might as well wait for the lawyer to appear.

  “Not just any old duty solicitor,” Hooley explained to Mayweather. “He’s got his very expensive brief coming down from one of those big London firms. The only other thing he has said is to complain about getting injured during the arrest.”

  “He was in the bath when the boys took his front door off. He says the shock made him spontaneously jump out of the tub and land heavily on the floor, causing minor injury and bruising.” He folded his arms and a mischievous grin flashed across his face before he added. “Personally, I think the real problem was that he was stark-naked when the dog unit, a bloody huge Alsatian, ran in and barked his head off. The handler says Mr. Ross was attempting to find sanctuary on the ceiling by climbing straight up the wall.”

  Mayweather suppressed a laugh. They were standing outside an interview room and looking in through the one-way mirror where a damp looking Ross was trying to look dignified in his boxer shorts and t-shirt.

  “I’ve got some proper clothes being brought from his house. If anyone asks, we were concerned that he might be in danger and wanted him out as fast as possible. But actually, I just wanted to mess him around a little bit.”

  His boss did a very good job of failing to hear that last bit.

  “When are you expecting the lawyer to get here?”

  “Any time now and Jonathan’s on his way back.” He paused. “That reminds me. We’ve got Sir James’s doctor coming in a bit later this afternoon; about 6pm. Jonathan’s got a hunch that the man was withholding information when he spoke to him right at the start of our investigation.”

  Mayweather’s eye-brows rose. She was just about to ask why when a woman appeared. She was dressed entirely in black; from her jacket, knee-length skirt, stockings and shoes to the black chopsticks inserted in an X-shape into dark black hair. Her thick-framed black glasses and round, black earrings completed the look. She was successfully sending out a message of supreme confidence. The DCI tried to estimate her age but the best he could come up with was between thirty and forty years old.

  She looked at him. “You must be Detective Chief Inspector Hooley and I take it you’re talking to your boss Assistant Deputy Commissioner Mayweather. He didn’t ask how she knew this or even offer to shake hands, just nodded politely.

  “Have you charged him with anythi
ng yet?” Her gaze as she made eye-contact was unwavering. She gave off no sense of emotion.

  Hooley was careful to match her, keeping his expression quite neutral. “We are considering a range of offences. At present he has been arrested on suspicion of committing offences under the Data Protection Act but we also believe he may be involved in a conspiracy to assault or even murder. As you know we can use our discretion as to what information we reveal at this stage, but it is no secret to say we’re taking this very seriously.” He kept his eyes locked on the lawyer as he added. “I think that will do for the time being but I am sure there will be other issues to discuss as well.”

  If he had hoped for a reaction he was disappointed. She shrugged off his words as if he were outlining minor traffic misdemeanours. “I need time alone with my client before I can consent to any questioning.”

  The DCI opened the door to the interview room with what he hoped was an ironic flourish, only slightly spoiled by the stiffness in his back. “Please feel free to take as long as you wish.”

  Watching the lawyer disappear Hooley turned to his boss. “It’s a funny thing, but for all his display of bravado and demanding to see his lawyer, I got the distinct feeling that our Mr. Ross is scared. I think he is more frightened of whoever has paid him than he is of us. And that lawyer looks far beyond the pay grade of a little scumbag like him. I think we should look into her background, see if she has any other interesting clients.”

  Mayweather thought about it for a moment. “I know I don’t need to say this but be very, very careful if you go down that path. We don’t need a lawyer like her complaining about police harassment. The commissioner, with his new PR team, is adamant there can be no more high-profile incidents with the Met accused of heavy-handedness and bullying.”

  She looked over the top of her glasses and interrupted the DCI before he could get going. “I know exactly what you’re going to say but that’s the way it is for the moment.”

  Chapter 50

  “So how long was she in there?” Mayweather was as incredulous as her deputy.

  “I left her to it; grabbed some water at the cooler then I virtually collided with her as she was on her way out. She didn’t even look at me, let alone say anything. One minute she’s all ‘my client this and my client that’, then the next she’s off.”

  They were standing in Mayweather’s office. She walked round to her chair and sat down, motioning Hooley to grab his usual perch.

  “Did they have some sort of argument?”

  Hooley shook his head.

  “I don’t think so. She wasn’t in there long enough for a start and when she came out she seemed quite calm. I immediately checked Ross and he was fine. So, no I don’t think it was that.”

  She was about to say more when a young detective constable appeared in the doorway, careful not to step inside without an invitation. He nodded at Mayweather, his expression serious. “Sorry to interrupt, Ma’am, but the DCI said he wanted to know the moment we’d checked the film footage.”

  He hesitated briefly and then nervously licked his lips. “I’m afraid there was no sign of any contact between them. She definitely didn’t hand anything to him and he didn’t make contact with her. They didn’t even shake hands.”

  Hooley was careful to mask his disappointment. He didn’t want his worry reported back to the troops. He thanked the officer and turned back to his boss.

  “I hadn’t had time to shut the cameras off so I thought we might as well check to make sure she didn’t give him anything. There is no audio though.”

  “What about the lawyer. I presume you will talk to her.”

  “I think I have to,” he said, with a small shrug. “But I’m not going to hold my breath. I wish Jonathan were here, I’d love to hear what he made of this.”

  While waiting for Roper to return he tracked down the lawyer. She was brusque and uncooperative, making him wish he hadn’t bothered. Her rudeness reminded him he wanted to dig into her back-ground. But he also had other priorities so it would have to go on the to-do list. He was pondering his next move when Roper walked in. Hooley brought him up to speed and the younger man spent the next five minutes silently running through his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. “I think her job may have been to deliver a message.”

  Hooley had been thinking the same thing and was momentarily embarrassed at how pleased he was to reach the same conclusion as Roper. “That’s how I’m beginning to see it but I’d be interested to hear your reasoning.” Maybe the way Roper approached things was rubbing off on him.

  The younger man interlocked his fingers and then flexed his arms. Hooley winced, he could hear joints crunching. A bit more flexing, then Roper was ready. “Look at the sequence of events. He gets arrested and immediately demands to see this lawyer. Then she turns up in quick time and is gone even faster.

  “I was talking to the IT guys down at Ross’s house and, from a quick look at his computer, they say he has been accessing all sorts of information. They are going to have no problem making a very serious case against him. So maybe Ross knows that he’s going to prison regardless, but whoever is driving all of this has anticipated that Ross might get arrested so set up a fallback plan to make sure he sticks to the script. The best way to do that is by delivering a message.”

  “Are you suggesting the lawyer was in on this?” asked Hooley.

  Another knuckle-crunch before Roper said: “I don’t think so. The message probably only means something to Ross but is otherwise quite innocent. I don’t think you would get a top lawyer from a big London firm willing to take a silly risk.”

  Hooley was on his feet and heading out of the office. “Given that we don’t have any audio of their meeting, I think we should find another way to put your theory to Mr. Ross right now.”

  He and Roper marched over to the interview room where Ross was now fully dressed and enjoying a cup of coffee. He barely looked up as the pair sat down and Hooley identified himself and Roper for the tape.

  “Mr. Ross, for the record, could you tell me again why you turned down the services of the lawyer you had demanded to see when we arrested you?”

  The man didn’t bother to look up and instead addressed his drink, which he had placed on the table in front of him. “I changed my mind.”

  Hooley let the silence build for a moment. “I think she delivered a message.”

  Ross tensed slightly. It was a blink-and-miss-it moment. But it was enough for Hooley. He stood up and left without any more comment, followed by Roper.

  Outside he turned to the younger man.

  “Nice work again.”

  “But he didn’t admit anything,” said a puzzled Roper.

  “Did you notice the way he tensed when I asked him about a message?”

  Roper thought back and nodded, he looked crestfallen.

  “I didn’t realise that was significant.”

  Hooley placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “These things are complicated but if you think about it he has been as cool as a cucumber since we picked him up. That was the first time he has given any real reaction to a question. We need to keep an open mind, but I think he confirmed your suspicion.”

  As they walked back to their office, Roper sighed. “I don’t think I will ever be able to understand body language.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it.” said Hooley. “You might not have noticed anything but it was thanks to you that I was asking the question. I think he gave something away just now and it proves your instincts were right - as usual. Now all we’ve got to do is work out what the message was.”

  Chapter 51

  Dr Paul Humbert was a small, neat man. He wore a fitted charcoal-grey suit, white shirt, pink tie and black loafers. He was seventy-two-years old with thick salt and pepper hair that made him look a little younger. He clearly favoured gold: the colour of his spectacles, and his gold-faced watch had a gold and platinum strap. He had a thin gold band on his wedding finger, which Hooley glanced at as they
shook hands. He was impressed by the doctor’s firm, dry grip.

  The DCI and Roper had both come down to meet him after he arrived. Signing him through security they headed back up to the fifth floor. They had decided to keep things low-key and talk to the doctor in their office, rather than the more formal setting of an interview room. The DCI had arranged three chairs in a loose circle in front of his desk and now they all sat down. With a practised flick of his wrists the doctor revealed half-an-inch of cuff and his gold cuff-links. It had been agreed that Hooley would lead the questioning, with Roper jumping in as he saw fit.

  “Thanks for coming in Dr Humbert. We just wanted to go back over what you told us about Sir James Taylor. Can I just confirm that you were his personal physician and had been for the last ten years?”

  For such a petite man he had a surprisingly deep voice as he replied that this was the case. After a few more questions Hooley decided he was the type of man it was best to be direct with.

  “In complex cases like the murder of Sir James it is important we review the evidence on a regular basis. Now there is one thing you told my colleague that we wanted to go over with you again.”

  The man remained unruffled but it was clear he was paying close attention and he nodded once to indicate Hooley should carry on.

  “Jonathan was especially interested in a phrase you used when you said there was nothing wrong with Sir James that could be picked up. That sounded a little cryptic when he went back over it so we wondered if you could help us clarify what you meant.”

  Dr Humbert sat very still, his hands gently clasped in his lap; he then inclined his head at Roper. “You have a remarkably good memory to recall that much detail and the truth is you’re not the only one who has been thinking about that conversation. I have been going over it in my mind endlessly and I was a little misleading, but only for the best of reasons.”