Hidden in Plain Sight

13

‘Have you ever fancied yourself as a madam?’

‘Oh no, sir,’ said Jackie. ‘That would be above and beyond the call of duty.’

‘Not if you’re still hoping to be reinstated as a sergeant, it wouldn’t,’ said Lamont.

William tried not to smile when the superintendent briefed Jackie on what he had in mind.

‘I could drive Jackie in my taxi, sir,’ said Danny, once the superintendent had fully explained what he expected DC Roycroft to do. ‘Then the guard will think we’ve come from the station.’

‘Good idea, Danny,’ said Lamont. ‘But leave Jackie to do the talking. Never been your strong suit.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Danny.

‘Right, let’s go over the plan one more time,’ said Lamont. ‘Jackie will...’

Fifteen minutes later Danny drove his black cab out onto the road with a single passenger in the back. He made his way slowly towards Limpton Hall, and came to a halt in front of the closed gates. The guard emerged from the gatehouse and slowly approached the taxi. Jackie wound down her window, adjusted her skirt and greeted him with her most seductive smile.

‘Can I help you, madam?’

‘Well, at least you got that right,’ said Jackie, glad to see his eyes settling on her legs. ‘You can call me Blanche. I’ve come to make sure my girls arrived safely. All part of the service.’

The guard checked his clipboard. ‘But you’re not on my list.’

‘Neither were they,’ said Jackie, taking a risk. ‘But then that’s the way Miles prefers it, as I’m sure you know.’

He didn’t look convinced. ‘Where have you come from?’ he asked politely.

Danny gripped the handle of the cab door.

‘From the station,’ said Jackie. ‘Like my girls.’

‘But the last train to Limpton Holt was over an hour ago,’ said the guard. ‘I’ll have to call the Hall and check with Mr Makins that you’re expected. Could you give me your name again, madam?’

Danny thrust open the cab door and rammed it into the guard, who fell unceremoniously to the ground, as Jackie leapt out, shot past him and headed for the gatehouse. She had just located the switch marked ‘front gate’ by the time the guard had recovered, rushed back into the gatehouse and brushed her aside with one sweep of an arm. He was about to hit the red panic button when a knee landed in his groin with all the force Jackie could muster.

The guard doubled over and grabbed his crotch, momentarily stunned, and didn’t see the fist swinging towards his chin. A referee wouldn’t have had to count to ten to confirm he’d been knocked out.

Danny sat on the guard as Jackie quickly flicked up the switch and the vast wrought-iron gates swung slowly open.

Seconds later four squad cars that had been waiting around the corner, engines idling, shot past them and headed up the long drive. No lights, no sirens, the drivers thankful for a half moon.

‘How are you going to explain that?’ said Danny, looking down at the prostrate figure laying on the ground.

‘Resisting arrest,’ said Jackie.

‘Then you’d better pray they find enough evidence of a crime once they get inside the house. Because if they don’t, it won’t be promotion you’ll be looking forward to, but—’ said Danny, as the first of the squad cars screeched to a halt outside the hall seventy-two seconds later.

Lamont leapt out and ran up the steps to the front door. He kept his thumb pressed on the bell while two of the cars swung left into the paddock, blocking the exit for the eight drivers and assorted bodyguards, several of whom were quietly dozing or listening to their car radios.

Lamont was about to give the order to break down the door when it was opened by possibly the only person in the house who was still fully dressed.

‘Good evening, sir,’ said Makins, as if greeting a late guest. ‘How may I help you?’

‘I am Superintendent Lamont, and I have a warrant to search these premises.’ He held up the legal authority, before barging past the butler and into the hall. He was followed by sixteen drugs squad officers and two sniffer dogs, all of whom immediately went to work. None of them could have failed to notice the stench of cannabis in the air.

Lamont stationed himself in the middle of the hall while his officers spread through the house, ignoring the guests, some of whom were zipping up their trousers, others looking somewhat flustered, while one elderly man appeared to have passed out.

William was among the last of the team to enter the house. The first thing he noticed was that the Constable landscape was still hanging in the hall, but then he was distracted by something that hadn’t been there when he’d first visited the house over a year ago. He stared in disbelief at a large bust of Miles Faulkner with a falcon on his arm, lit by a single spotlight. He was about to offer his unfettered opinion of its vulgarity when a voice from above him shouted, ‘What the hell is going on?’

William looked up to see Faulkner standing at the top of the stairs in a red silk dressing gown, glaring down at them. He walked slowly down the sweeping marble staircase and stopped directly in front of Lamont. Their noses almost touching.

‘What exactly do you think you’re doing, chief inspector?’

‘Superintendent,’ said Lamont. ‘I have a warrant to search these premises,’ he added, holding up an official-looking document.

‘And what were you hoping to find, superintendent? Another Rembrandt perhaps? Not that you’d know one if it was staring you in the face.’

‘We have reason to believe that you are in possession of a large amount of illegal drugs,’ said Lamont calmly. ‘And not just for your personal use, which is contrary to the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ said Faulkner, ‘but I can assure you, superintendent, you will not find any drugs on these premises, as my guests are all law-abiding citizens.’ He crossed the hallway and picked up the phone.

‘Who are you calling?’ demanded Lamont.

‘My lawyer, which is no more than my legal right, as you well know, superintendent.’

‘Just be sure it’s only your lawyer you’re calling,’ barked Lamont. He didn’t take his eyes off Faulkner, as his officers spread through the house.

After he made the call, Faulkner sat down in an armchair and lit a cigar, while Makins poured him a brandy. By the time his goblet had been refilled a second time, and his cigar was no more than a glowing ember, all the intruders had to show for their troubles was a couple of joints and an Ecstasy tablet. The dogs’ tails, which had previously been wagging eagerly, were now between their legs. William couldn’t resist looking at the paintings that lined the walls as he walked along the corridor and entered Faulkner’s study. No books. Just photos of Faulkner with so-called ‘celebrities’. It was then that he spotted it on the desk, and wondered if it was possible.

He returned to the hall to hear Faulkner asking Lamont, ‘May I be allowed to get dressed, superintendent, while this charade continues?’

Lamont didn’t respond immediately, but then reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t see why not. But DS Warwick will accompany you. Don’t let him out of your sight, Warwick.’

‘Otherwise, like Peter Pan, I might fly out of the window and never be seen again?’ said Faulkner. He rose from his place and began walking up the stairs, with William only a pace behind, this time not even glancing at the pictures on the wall.

Once they reached the first floor, William followed him along a corridor and into what could only have been the master bedroom. His eyes settled on a Vermeer that hung above the bed, the one Beth had told him had been promised to the Fitzmolean, once Faulkner’s divorce had gone through.

‘Enjoy it while you can,’ he said. ‘Although I have a feeling you may have seen it before,’ Faulkner added as the bathroom door opened and a young girl appeared, wearing only her knickers.

‘You didn’t tell me there would be two of you,’ she said, giving William a warm smile.

‘Not this time,’ said Faulkner. ‘But I won’t keep you waiting much longer,’ he added, as he pulled on a clean shirt.

The girl looked disappointed, grinned at William and disappeared back into the bathroom.

By the time William had recovered, Faulkner was zipping up his jeans and strapping on the Cartier Tank watch William remembered from the first time he’d arrested him. Once he was dressed, Faulkner marched out of the bedroom, headed back downstairs, and returned to his seat in the corner of the hall.

‘Found anything worth reporting back to Commander Hawksby?’ he asked Lamont, as Makins refilled his brandy glass. He didn’t receive a reply.

Lamont was beginning to wonder if Choirboy had been set up by his OSC, who might have recently transferred his allegiance to a new paymaster, someone who was now lighting another cigar. His thoughts were interrupted when the front doorbell rang.

‘Good evening, sir,’ said the butler as Mr Booth Watson strode into the hallway. The QC took his time surveying the carnage around him before he offered an opinion.

‘I can see you’ve had a fruitful outing, superintendent,’ he said when his eyes settled on the two small plastic bags, one containing a couple of joints, the other an Ecstasy tablet, both marked ‘Evidence’. ‘No doubt you’ll be calling Commander Hawksby to inform him of your spectacular triumph.’

Faulkner laughed, stubbed out his cigar and strolled across the hall to join his lawyer.

‘Hardly a hanging offence,’ continued Booth Watson. ‘My client, as you well know, superintendent, is a model citizen, who lives a quiet life, devoting a great deal of his time to supporting worthy causes, not least the Fitzmolean Museum, with which I believe you are familiar. So may I suggest, as much for your reputation as my client’s, that the least you can do is release his dinner guests and allow them to return to the bosom of their families, unless of course you feel that any of them might be suppliers of illegal substances, and should be arrested and carted off to the nearest police station.’ He paused, staring at the evidence once again. ‘Although I can’t imagine what the charge would be.’

Lamont nodded reluctantly, and a few minutes later every one of the guests had quietly left the house, one or two of them accompanied by someone they hadn’t arrived with. Several of them shook hands with Faulkner on the way out, and one even said, ‘You can call me as a witness, Miles.’ Booth Watson made a note of his name and telephone number.

Once all the guests had left, Booth Watson turned his attention back to Lamont. ‘You have without doubt, superintendent, caused my client considerable embarrassment, not to mention the damage you’ve done to his relationships, both personal and professional, with some of his oldest friends and most respected colleagues. I cannot begin to imagine what this unwarranted intrusion has already cost the taxpayer. But let me assure you, it is nothing compared to the amount I will be claiming on behalf of my client in compensation for the damage you have done to his beautiful home and his priceless possessions.’

One or two of the officers looked embarrassed by the sight of the ripped sofas and up-ended antique furniture sprawled across the floor. Booth Watson graced them with a smile he usually reserved only for juries, while Makins began taking photographs of the wreckage.

‘Keep him talking,’ murmured William, as he walked past Lamont and made his way quickly back down the corridor, before disappearing into Faulkner’s study.

‘You have to appreciate, Mr Booth Watson,’ said Lamont, ‘that we were acting in good faith on information received.’

‘Clearly from an unreliable source, which I think you’ll agree, superintendent, is becoming a hallmark of your investigations when dealing with my client.’

Lamont tried to remain calm.

William looked up the number in his pocket diary and began to dial. He started to pray, and to his relief, the call was answered a few moments later.

‘Who’s this?’ a voice demanded.

‘William Warwick. I apologize for disturbing you at this time of night, Christina, but an emergency has arisen and I have a feeling you’re the one person who might be able to help.’

‘You’re lucky to catch me, William. I’ve only just walked in after enjoying a rather lengthy getting-to-know-you dinner. Let me guess, it has to be Miles who’s causing you so much trouble. How can I help?’

William hurriedly explained the problem he was up against, and when she supplied him with the answer, he felt a complete fool, because it had been staring him in the face the whole evening.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you a call in the morning and let you know how it all worked out.’

‘Not too early,’ said Christina. ‘My dinner companion is considerably younger than I am.’

William laughed for the first time that evening. ‘Have a good time,’ he said before replacing the receiver. He took a moment to compose his thoughts, and was about to leave the room when he once again spotted the rolled-up twenty-pound note on the desk, which now made him feel more confident. He picked it up and left Faulkner’s study to head back down the corridor towards the hall.

‘Well, look who’s rejoined us,’ said Booth Watson as William reappeared. ‘None other than our newly appointed sergeant — I do apologize, detective sergeant. Not for much longer, I suspect.’ Only Faulkner laughed.

‘Well, detective sergeant,’ said Booth Watson, glancing dismissively at the twenty-pound note William was holding. ‘Apprehended one of the Great Train Robbers, have we?’

‘Far better,’ said William without explanation, as he placed the note in a plastic bag and labelled it ‘Evidence’. He then strolled slowly over to the bust of Faulkner. ‘Only someone with an oversized ego would allow such a grotesque object to be seen in a house full of masterpieces,’ he said, turning to Faulkner.

‘I hope you have another job lined up, detective sergeant,’ said Booth Watson, ‘because I have a feeling your days as a police officer are numbered.’

‘No, I haven’t,’ William replied. ‘But it shouldn’t be too difficult to get a job identifying fake works of art.’ He lifted the bust off its stand.

‘Put that down!’ yelled Faulkner. ‘It’s extremely rare!’

‘Unique, I would hope,’ said William. ‘But if that’s what you want, Mr Faulkner, I’m only too happy to oblige.’ William allowed the bust to slip from his fingers and crash onto the marble floor, where it shattered into a hundred pieces.

Everyone stared, not at what was left of the broken statue, but at a dozen small paper wraps, each containing a white substance, that lay strewn across the floor.

The dogs’ tails began to wag excitedly, while the photographers immediately set about their task. Once they’d finished, a dozen officers began to gather up the evidence.

‘I suspect it doesn’t get any purer than this,’ said a senior drugs officer, holding up one of the bags. ‘I’ll get this lot back to the lab for testing, superintendent, and have a report on your desk first thing on Monday morning.’

Lamont stepped forward, thrust Faulkner’s arms behind his back and handcuffed him. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this for some time, Mr Faulkner,’ he said. Booth Watson made a note. ‘I’ll leave you to do the honours, DS Warwick.’

William walked up to Faulkner and stood directly in front of him. He was so nervous he nearly forgot the words of the caution.

‘Miles Faulkner, I am arresting you on suspicion of being in possession of a Class A substance with an intent to supply. You do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be given in evidence.’

He accompanied the prisoner out of the house, and bundled him into the back of a waiting squad car. He couldn’t resist waving goodbye as he was driven away.

Lamont picked up the phone in the hall and began dialling. ‘I think I’ll take your advice, Mr Booth Watson,’ he said with a smile, ‘and give Commander Hawksby a call to tell him about my spectacular triumph.’