Chameleon's Shadow

Twenty-six

JACKSON WAS LEANING AGAINST a pillar box, playing chess on her mobile, when Jones and Beale drew up behind her car. She acknowledged them with a nod, but showed no impatience when they spent fifteen minutes with the three-man SOCO team who were working on the contents of the back seat. Whatever irritation she’d felt earlier seemed to have evaporated.

‘I’m sorry about this, Dr Jackson,’ said the superintendent, finally walking over to speak to her. ‘I realize we’re making your life difficult.’

‘Not your fault,’ she said, closing out the game. ‘Not mine either . . . but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought otherwise. I seem to be making a habit of bringing hot telephones to your attention.’

‘Courtesy of Lieutenant Acland.’

‘He’s the only other person who could have put the bag in the car. I’m assuming he left it for me on purpose, otherwise he’d have told you about it at the pub. I was hardly going to miss it. I only had to open the back door.’

‘Why would he do that, do you think?’

‘Fear?’ she suggested. ‘He was terrified when I identified Atkins’s mobile . . . wanted to abandon the whole idea of reporting it because he thought he’d be first in the firing line. I imagine he feels the same about being associated with Harry Peel.’ She paused. ‘I’ve been wondering why he didn’t dump the bag as a matter of fact. He could have distanced himself immediately if he’d left it for someone else to find.’

‘Or thrown it in the Thames and got rid of it altogether?’

Jackson nodded. ‘That, too. I don’t say I’m happy to be landed with the responsibility, but he deserves some credit for doing the right thing . . . even if it was in a roundabout way.’

‘He told us he walked around for twenty-four hours before he put the bag in your car. Is that a likely time-frame?’

She frowned. ‘Have you questioned him already?’

‘Briefly. It’s a significant find, Dr Jackson.’

‘That’s no excuse to badger a sick man.’

‘I agree,’ said Jones with a blatant disregard for truth, ‘which is why we kept the questions to a minimum. When did you leave him yesterday?’

‘Midday.’

‘And you’re sure he had the bag with him when you met up again this evening?’

‘Pretty sure.’

‘He said something in it belongs to him. Have you any idea what that might be?’

Jackson shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen all the contents. I backed off as soon as I spotted Harry Peel’s phone. Is there a wallet? Maybe that belongs to Charles.’

Jones shook his head. ‘I didn’t get the impression he’d added anything to the contents. I think whatever he was referring to was already there.’ He glanced at Beale who’d just joined them. ‘Would you agree?’

The inspector nodded. ‘He seemed to think you’d be spooked by one of the objects. He says it belongs to him.’

Jackson looked surprised. ‘Surely he’d be more worried about your reactions.’

‘He was answering a question from the superintendent about why he’d kept you in the dark. He said he’d been working round to telling you.’

‘The stun gun might have spooked me,’ she admitted. ‘I’d question the motives of any man who carried one of those little bastards. Can you think of an easier way to overpower a woman than to have her twitching on the ground for fifteen seconds, unable to defend herself?’

Jones nodded. ‘We’re interested in the stun gun,’ he agreed. ‘The other objects are a wooden club – we think a Zulu knobkerrie

– two mobile phones – one of which would appear to be Harry Peel’s – a packet of baby wipes and some throat lozenges. Might any of those belong to the lieutenant? Did he say anything that might have given you a clue?’

Jackson looked from one to the other. ‘He said he’d left some African artefacts in his ex’s flat,’ she said slowly, describing how Acland had gone to look through Jen’s window. ‘I’ve been wondering about it ever since I found the knobkerrie. Do you think he was checking to see if his was still there? If he could spot it in her room, it would mean that one –’ she nodded towards the car – ‘had nothing to do with him.’

Jones looked sceptical. ‘What makes you think he wasn’t setting you up to repeat a convenient lie? It sounds like smoke and mirrors to me. How many knobkerries are there in London? Wouldn’t he have recognized his own as soon as he saw it?’

‘It wouldn’t stop him checking. I’d have checked if I’d found something I thought was mine next to a mobile with Harry Peel’s name on it.’

‘Or you’d have spent twenty-four hours working out a story. The lieutenant’s not a fool. If he says he left a knobkerrie in Ms Morley’s flat – backed by your interpretations of his actions – and she says he didn’t, then we’re no further forward.’

Jackson eyed him curiously. ‘I’m obviously way off-beam here. I thought this was Ben Russell’s bag, the one that Charles said Chalky nicked.’

Jones spread his hands in a gesture of bafflement. ‘We’re as confused as you, Dr Jackson. For all we know, the bag has always been in Lieutenant Acland’s possession.’

She studied him for a moment. ‘No,’ she said with sudden conviction. ‘You wouldn’t know it existed but for Charles. First he told you Chalky had taken it . . . then he left it for me to find. Why would he keep drawing attention to it if it ties him to Harry Peel?’

‘Smoke and mirrors,’ said Beale, echoing his boss’s earlier statement. ‘Unless you noticed the bag yourself last Friday – which you say you didn’t – we’ve only Charles’s word that it was ever in your boot. He’s accused both Ben and Chalky of handling it, but the only way we’ll know if he was telling the truth is if we find their fingerprints or DNA on any of the objects. If we don’t –’ he shrugged – ‘if we only find Charles’s – he’ll be able to claim they got there when he searched the bag yesterday.’

It was Jackson’s turn to look sceptical. ‘If that’s the way your mind works, I’m not surprised he wanted me to turn the stuff in. He didn’t have to do it at all . . . He could have dumped the lot and walked away from the responsibility.’ She searched their faces. ‘Why tempt fate if he’s guilty? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘He enjoys taking risks,’ said Jones thoughtfully. ‘He’s obsessed with chance, feels there should be meaning in random events.’

‘You would be, too, if you’d lost your eye, your career and your crew in an indiscriminate explosion that was aimed at the first vehicle that passed a particular point,’ said Jackson bluntly. ‘He understands malign fate extremely well . . . probably because he’s suffered quite a lot of it in the last few months.’

Jones eyed her curiously. ‘Why have you changed your mind, Doctor? You looked close to washing your hands of Charles earlier . . . and DC Khan said you were blowing a gasket when he spoke to you on the phone.’

‘The wonders of modern technology,’ she said, opening her phone again and scrolling through her menu before turning the screen to the superintendent. ‘This isn’t Chalky. The face is too thin . . . and the beard and hair too grey. I’d describe this man as a goatee-wearing professor type. Chalky was more of a grizzly bear . . . wild beard with a square, heavy-featured face. I’ve told DC Khan I’ll confirm it formally by looking at the body later, but I guarantee this isn’t the man I saw in the alleyway.’

‘It was dark,’ Jones reminded her.

‘He was a passenger in my car for twenty minutes. Even if I hadn’t had a good look at him when he climbed in beside me, I had a clear view of his profile during the journey. Chalky’s nose was broken. This guy’s isn’t.’

Ahmed Khan had already passed this information to Jones. ‘I hadn’t realized you were so worried about what the lieutenant might have done to Chalky,’ he murmured. ‘You obviously think Charles is capable of violence.’

Jackson tucked the mobile into her pocket. ‘I know he is,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I saw what he did to you at the station, and to Rashid in the pub . . . but he didn’t kill either of you, and the only weapons he used were his hands.’ She placed a meaty elbow on the top of the pillar box and stared towards her car. ‘Why are you so interested in the stun gun?’

‘For the same reason you gave. That particular model packs a million volts. Anyone touched by it would be unable to defend himself for two or three minutes . . . possibly longer. They’re illegal in this country, so it must have been smuggled in from abroad . . . which may well rule out Ben and Chalky.’

‘Meaning it’s Charles’s?’

‘It’s a possibility. He’s laying claim to something in that bag that he thought would worry you . . . and the first thing you nominated was the stun gun. You said you’d be very suspicious of a man who used an electric pulse to subdue a woman in order to rape her.’

Jackson shifted her attention back to the superintendent. ‘Are you suggesting Charles would do that?’

Jones shrugged. ‘You tell me, Doctor. All I know is, he has a real problem talking about the last time he saw Ms Morley . . . and that was shortly after he returned from a training exercise in the Middle East. It wouldn’t be hard to hide a stun gun in a kitbag.’

*

Jackson wasn’t amused to be informed by DI Beale a few minutes later that her car would have to be towed to a laboratory for examination under controlled conditions. He talked apologetically about contamination. ‘Two of the people who might have handled the bag have travelled in your car – Chalky and the lieutenant – so we need to be very precise about the location of DNA evidence. We also need to look for fibres in the boot. If we find a match with the bag, it will go some way to substantiating Charles’s claim that Chalky took it.’ ‘Only some way?’ ‘He could have put it there himself when you came into the pub.’ ‘And taken it out again?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘It’s a possibility.’ Jackson gave an impatient sigh. ‘You seem very set on Charles’s guilt. I don’t give much for his chances with you and the superintendent against him. Are you even looking for anyone else?’

*

Chalky opened a bloodshot eye and blinked into the beam of the torch that was shining in his face. ‘You’d better not be who I think you are. I hate cops!’ DC Khan turned the torch to illuminate the two uniformed constables beside him. ‘I’m afraid you’re out of luck, Chalky. We’ve been searching all over for you. Are you willing to cooperate or are we going to have to arrest you? Either way, you’ll be coming with us.’ ‘Who let you in?’ ‘Your lady friends.’

‘Two-timing bitches!’ The corporal raised his voice. ‘You hear me, you fuckers! This is the last time I do favours for dykes.’

Avril spoke from the doorway. ‘Seems to me it’s us who’s done you the favour. A bit of shoplifting, you said . . . no harm done. So how come we get served with a search warrant, eh? And how come there’s four more of these bozos downstairs guarding the exits. What you been up to, Chalky?’

He covered his face with his arm to block out the light. ‘Took the word of a bloody officer,’ he said. ‘Arrogant bastard! Should have known he couldn’t be trusted.’

*

‘I’m afraid we need to impose on your time a little longer,’ said the superintendent as he and Jackson stood side by side, watching her BMW disappear down the road on the back of a recovery vehicle. ‘Chalky – or a man we believe to be Chalky – was picked up ten minutes ago from a squat in Bread Street. It would be helpful if you could identify him for us.’ ‘The ladies’ squat? How come they let you in?’ ‘They didn’t fancy the alternative,’ Jones told her with a small laugh. ‘Given the choice between handing over the man tonight or having every inch of their property searched tomorrow under an official warrant, they traded Chalky. They don’t seem to like him very much.’ ‘The woman who runs the squat doesn’t like people she can’t manage . . . and I imagine Chalky’s a bit of a nightmare when he’s drunk.’ She stooped for her medical case, which had only been released from the car after she threatened to sue the Metropolitan Police for depriving her of her livelihood. ‘Is Charles still at the Crown?’ ‘No. He was removed about an hour ago after agreeing to spend the night in a cell. You’re welcome to check on him back at the station. He’s not under arrest and I don’t have a problem with you talking to him.’

Jackson eyed the superintendent thoughtfully. ‘Why so generous suddenly? What if I repeat your suspicions to him?’

‘I wouldn’t advise it, Doctor. If he changes his story now, he’ll be digging an even bigger hole for himself.’

*

Chalky was already in the interview room when Jones and Beale returned with Jackson. They watched him on the monitor as he sat swearing at the uniformed constable who was in the room with him. ‘He’s not happy,’ said Khan. ‘He’s claiming wrongful identity . . . harassment . . . false imprisonment . . . and anything else you can imagine. I’ve offered him legal representation, but he doesn’t like solicitors either.’ Jones turned to Jackson. ‘Doctor?’ She nodded. ‘That’s the man I know as Chalky.’ ‘Is he drunk?’ Jones asked Khan. ‘Claims he isn’t. It’s one of his beefs as a matter of fact. He says the women keep hiding their bottles and cans, and he hasn’t had a decent bevvy in days.’ He paused. ‘Apart from a bottle of vodka that the lieutenant gave him yesterday.’ ‘So he admits meeting the lieutenant?’ ‘Not in so many words. He mentioned taking the word of an arrogant bastard officer . . . then a little bit later he said the arrogant bastard had bribed him with a bottle of vodka. I’m assuming he was referring to the lieutenant.’ ‘Mm. Well, I suggest we don’t make any assumptions at this stage . . . except that he’s sober. You’re not going to tell me different, are you, Doctor? He looks fit enough to answer questions to me.’ ‘If you want a professional opinion that you can use in court, then you’ll have to let me examine him.’ ‘That’s not a bad idea. It’ll be interesting to see how he reacts to you. I wouldn’t mind him knowing his card’s been marked by someone who can recognize him.’

*

The smell in the room was ferocious. ‘Don’t you know anything about hygiene, Chalky?’ asked Jackson amiably. ‘You’re stinking worse than the last time I saw you.’

He glared at her. ‘What you doing here? Where’s the lootenant? Fucking bastard conned me . . . gave me his word he wouldn’t let on where I was.’

‘He didn’t,’ she said. ‘It was me who suggested you might be at the squat.’

Chalky spat on the floor. ‘Bloody interfering women . . . Can’t let a man alone . . . Got to be at him all the time. How’s the kid?’

‘Still in hospital but doing all right.’

‘He’s the one they should be talking to. What the fuck do I know? You do a favour for a little toerag and the next thing you’re banged up in the sodding nick. It ain’t fair. I was planning on hoofing it down to Brighton tomorrow...Get me some R&R by the sea.’

‘Let’s hope you still can,’ said Jackson pleasantly. ‘As I understand it, you’re not under arrest.’

‘Amounts to the same bloody thing. Me and the cops don’t see eye to eye on much.’

‘Then the sooner you’re out of here the better. They’ve asked me to assess whether you’re sober enough to answer questions. What’s your opinion?’

He looked at her through narrowed lids, a calculating gleam in his eyes. ‘Wouldn’t know what it feels like . . . Haven’t been sober for twenty years. Can’t answer questions in the state I’m in.’

‘You might find the alternative worse,’ Jackson warned him. ‘You’ll suffer withdrawal symptoms if the police keep you on ice until the alcohol’s out of your bloodstream. You seem pretty alert to me and I’m willing to give them the go-ahead now, but I’m equally happy to test your blood for alcohol if you’d rather delay.’

Chalky held his palm parallel with the table. ‘Shaking like a fucking leaf. It’s alcohol I need. Tell ’em that. I’ll be a damn sight keener to give the bastards what they want with a drop of liquor inside me . . . stands to reason.’

*

Whether by design or accident, Jones allowed Jackson to watch the monitor while Chalky was interviewed by DC Khan and a second detective whom she hadn’t seen before. The door to the viewing room stood open and she stepped quietly inside after a visit to the cells, where she’d found Charles asleep. Two other members of the inquiry team were gathered around the screen, but there was no sign of Beale. If anyone noticed Jackson’s arrival they didn’t comment on it. Most of Chalky’s statements contained long, complaining monologues against the police, bossy dykes, lying officers, ungrateful teenagers and the inhuman brutality of ‘denying a bloke a bevvy’. But in essence his story corroborated Jackson’s and Acland’s in relation to the events in the alleyway and the subsequent drive to St Thomas’s. ‘Do you remember how many bags Ben brought in with him, Chalky?’ ‘Just the two . . . a black rucksack and a Londis carrier.’ ‘And how many did the lieutenant have?’ ‘Reckon he had two as well . . . a kitbag and a duffel.’ ‘Are you sure about that?’ ‘You calling me a liar?’ Khan shook his head. ‘Just getting a few facts straight. Is it true you took the Londis bag? We’ve been told it had cigarettes and alcohol in it.’ ‘What if I did? The kid can’t use it in the hospital. I’ll pay him back next time I see him.’ ‘What about the duffel? Did you take that as well?’ ‘Course not. It wasn’t mine.’ ‘So what happened to it?’ ‘The lootenant took it.’

Khan studied him for a moment. ‘Meaning what? That he never removed it from the doctor’s boot?’

Chalky looked as if he was about to spit on the floor again, then appeared to think better of it. ‘Don’t ask me, mate,’ he said indifferently. ‘I wasn’t looking . . . But the lootenant’s the one that’s got it. It sure as hell ain’t nothing to do with me.’

Khan nodded. ‘That’s pretty much what we thought.’

‘So what am I doing here?’ Chalky asked belligerently. ‘The likes of me have rights, too, you know.’

‘We’re aware of that and we’re grateful for your assistance. You’ve confirmed an important piece of evidence for us. Up until now, we only had the lieutenant’s word that the duffel bag was ever in the boot. The doctor never saw it and, for all we knew, the lieutenant had reasons of his own to invent a bag that didn’t exist.’

Chalky’s black eyebrows drew together in a ferocious frown. ‘I ain’t confirming nothing.’

Khan consulted some notes on the table in front of him. ‘Why did you hole up in Bread Street, Chalky?’

‘None of your sodding business.’

‘Did you open the duffel and take fright when you saw what was in it?’

‘I want a lawyer. I ain’t answering no more questions without a brief in the room.’

‘Sure,’ said Khan easily. ‘Do you have a solicitor of your own or would you rather take one of the duty paralegals? If you choose a paralegal, it’ll be a couple of hours before they get here. You’re welcome to sit in this room with a cup of tea and a biscuit until they arrive.’

‘I’ll take a beer.’

‘This isn’t the Hilton, Chalky. We don’t do alcohol.’

He hunched forward over the table. ‘I should’ve tossed the bloody thing in the river,’ he grumbled. ‘Damn near did as a matter of fact. Only took it in the first place because I thought it had a bottle in it. It’s the kid you should be talking to. His head’s fucked.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘He’s a vicious little bastard . . . Got his girls to give me a kicking not so long ago.’ Chalky tugged at his matted beard. ‘He didn’t like me telling ’em they’d do better without a good-fornothing pimp living off ’em.’

‘The pimp being Ben?’

‘Right.’

‘So how come you let him sleep in the alleyway with you?’

‘Didn’t know what he was like the first time I met him. All I saw was a skinny kid taking a kicking himself. He told me the guy was a faggot after a rent boy . . . but I reckon it was someone he’d fleeced. Got stuck with him after that. He used the alleyway as a bolt hole whenever he thought people were after him . . . only reason he kept the location to himself.’

Khan folded his hands over his notes. ‘Weren’t you frightened of him after he attacked you?’

Chalky gave a growl of disgust. ‘Him and his bitches caught me asleep. Told him I’d break his fucking neck if he tried it again. Didn’t see hide nor hair of him till he turned up that night. The lootenant reckoned he was sick . . . Me, I thought he’d been on the receiving end of another thumping . . . Even more so when I looked in his fucking bag after I’d split with the doctor.’

Khan made what he could of this. ‘The duffel bag? Had you seen Ben with it before?’

‘Wouldn’t make any difference if I had or not. He had it that night . . . and in my book that makes it his.’

‘Why did you hang on to it?’

Chalky flicked him an assessing glance, as if to measure how gullible he was. ‘Because I read the newspapers, that’s why. Do you think a meths drinker doesn’t know what’s going on in your piss-ant world? The army’s not good for much – it drops you like a hot potato when you’ve done your bit for Queen and country – but it doesn’t take you on if you’re stupid. Recognized the name, didn’t I?’

‘Harry Peel?’

‘That’s the one. Put it together with the doctor telling me the kid had a murdered bloke’s mobile in his rucksack . . . and knew I’d shot myself in the bloody foot. I should have stuck with the booze and fags and left the duffel bag alone.’

‘All the more reason to dump it somewhere.’

‘Not if you have a conscience, it isn’t,’ said Chalky in an injured tone. ‘What makes you think I like killers any more than you do?’

‘The fact that you never brought the evidence to us,’ said Khan with a faint smile. ‘I’m betting you thought Ben would pay to get it back.’