Over My Dead Body

Chapter 9

‘You did what?’ said the commander.

‘I lost him, sir.’

‘Then you’d better find him, or I might have to lose you.’

William was about to ask The Hawk what he had in mind, when it became a rhetorical question.

‘Remind me, Chief Inspector Warwick’ — not a good sign; ‘William’ would have suggested he was in with a chance — ‘do you still have another week’s leave?’

‘Yes, I do, sir.’

‘Then you’ve got seven days to find Faulkner. Should you fail to do so, Chief Inspector, that will give me more than enough time to appoint a replacement as the team’s new SIO, and to decide what your next job will be, and the appropriate rank to go with it.’

The phone went dead.

‘That didn’t sound too friendly,’ said Danny.

‘It could have been worse,’ William responded. ‘He might have addressed me as Constable Warwick.’

‘Then I wouldn’t have to call you “sir”,’ quipped Danny.

‘But until then,’ said William, ‘you can take me home.’

‘Yes, sir.’

William picked up the phone by his bedside, assuming it would be The Hawk calling to deliver a second volley.

‘Hello, caveman. Do you miss me?’

‘More than you realize,’ admitted William. He wanted to tell Beth why, but satisfied himself with, ‘How’s New York?’ There was a buzz of boisterous laughter in the background.

‘Splendiferous! We went to the Frick this afternoon, and you were right about the Bellini, stunning. But I couldn’t wait to find out how the wedding went. Did you arrest Faulkner before or after he said “I do”?’

‘After,’ said William, hoping he would have done so by the time Beth returned.

‘How did Christina react?’ she asked, sounding like The Hawk.

‘Not over the phone, my darling. I’ll tell you everything as soon as you get back. What are you up to this evening?’ he asked, desperate to change the subject.

‘We’re going to La Cage aux Folles. Had to buy scalper’s tickets. But then, a deserted woman can’t afford to hang around. I miss you.’

‘Miss you too.’

‘And congratulations.’

‘On what?’

‘On your triumph. Can’t wait to hear all about it. I have to go now, the curtain’s about to go up. Sleep well, miss you.’

William didn’t sleep well; in fact he didn’t sleep at all. He would have liked to discuss the problem with Beth and seek her advice, but it would have ruined her holiday. In fact, he suspected she would have been on her way to JFK before the curtain had gone up. By the time the first suggestion of morning announced itself through a crack in the curtain, William had already taken a cold shower, dressed, had a bowl of cornflakes and made two phone calls: one to Danny and the other to DI Ross Hogan.

He was about half-way through briefing his new second-in-command when he remembered what time it was. He began to apologize, when he heard a muffled voice in the background, which he thought he recognized. He’d clearly woken both of them.

‘I’ll be there as quickly as I can, sir,’ said Hogan, before putting the phone down.

‘Do give the chief my best wishes,’ said Jackie, as Ross leapt out of bed. ‘And don’t forget to thank him for ruining our last weekend together.’

Danny pulled up outside DCI Warwick’s house forty minutes later. William climbed into the back of the car to join Ross, who looked far more awake than he felt.

DI Hogan was clearly a man who wasn’t quite ready for plainclothes work. He was dressed in a pair of light blue jeans, a creased T-shirt that looked as if it had been picked up off the floor, and trainers which, although top of the range, were hardly regulation. But that’s how The Hawk would have described his brain.

‘What a balls-up, sir,’ were Ross’s first words as William pulled the back door closed.

‘Couldn’t be much worse. In fact, you’d better get used to calling me William, as I have a feeling I could be calling you sir by the end of the week,’ he said, before revealing the details of his telephone conversation with The Hawk.

‘That bad?’

‘Worse. He pointed out,’ continued William, ‘that we have more than enough evidence to arrest Christina Faulkner for assisting an offender, contrary to the 1967 Criminal Law Act.’

‘Which would keep her out of harm’s way for at least five years.’

‘However, he felt we should concentrate on the bigger prize, while keeping her under surveillance. He believes she’ll happily shop her husband in return for a reduced sentence, so we should, to quote him, keep our powder dry.’

‘I wonder which party Booth Watson would end up representing, when it came to trial.’

‘Both of them, if he thought he could get away with it,’ said William.

‘So what’s our next move?’

‘Some old-fashioned foot-slogging, as if we were back on the beat learning our trade. First, we have to reconstruct everything that took place yesterday in the hope of finding out where Faulkner ended up. Danny,’ said William, leaning forward, ‘head for that railway crossing where Faulkner took us both for a ride.’

During the journey to Limpton, William took Ross through the best-laid scheme he’d come up with during the night.

‘Of mice and men,’ said Ross.

‘I know which I am,’ said William. ‘None of this would have been necessary if I’d used a squad car and not a taxi when we followed Faulkner. So The Hawk’s right, there’s no one else to blame. If I don’t find Faulkner by the end of the week, I’ll be back on the beat, and it’s not hard to work out who’ll be appointed to take my place.’

‘Don’t look at me,’ said Ross. ‘I’m a loner, not officer material. But I hear there’s a job going in traffic control for a recently demoted sergeant. No experience required.’

‘Don’t joke about it,’ said William, as Danny drove onto the motorway.

By the time they reached the level crossing, Ross had asked several insightful questions, and added one or two of his own ideas. William was quickly discovering why The Hawk held him in such high regard.

‘Once Faulkner had seen you and Danny running towards the station, he would have had two choices,’ said Ross. ‘Turn back or carry on over the level crossing.’

‘He carried on,’ said Danny.

‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Ross.

‘I didn’t reach the train in time, so I had to return to the car. While I was crossing the bridge on the way back, I saw the barrier rise and a dark blue Mercedes drive through.’

‘Why didn’t you follow it?’ asked Ross.

‘The driver was wearing a chauffeur’s hat, so I assumed Faulkner was on the train. My first responsibility was to make sure there was a welcoming party waiting for him at the next station.’

‘And there was, but Faulkner wasn’t on it,’ said William. ‘It was some time before I cottoned on to the fact that his chauffeur had taken his place. From now on, let’s start thinking like Faulkner. If I was driving over the level crossing, where would I head for?’

‘He wouldn’t have carried on into Limpton,’ said Ross, ‘because by then he would have realized there would be several ushers waiting for the groom.’

‘There’s only one other turning off the road before Limpton,’ chipped in Danny.

‘Then he must have taken it,’ said William, as they approached a crossroads.

Danny ignored the signpost to Limpton, turned right and put his foot on the accelerator.

‘Slow down,’ said William. ‘Keep a steady pace. Faulkner wouldn’t have risked breaking the speed limit and being pulled over.’

‘How long do you think he would have carried on for before he ditched the car?’ asked Ross.

‘Not for too long,’ said William. ‘He would have known that once we realized he wasn’t on that train, every patrol car in the county would be on the look-out for a dark blue Mercedes.’

‘Assuming it hasn’t already been picked up, or stolen,’ said Danny. ‘We’d have a better chance of finding it if we’d been able to use the Met’s helicopter rather than this ancient Austin Allegro.’

‘I don’t think the commander would have authorized that,’ said William, as Danny drove slowly through a small village before stopping at another crossroad.

‘Help,’ said Danny. ‘Right, left or straight on?’

‘Straight on,’ said William. ‘He wouldn’t have turned left to Limpton. If we don’t come across anything in the next fifteen minutes, we’ll turn back.’

William became more and more pessimistic with each passing mile, but as they approached the next village, Danny shouted, ‘Bingo!’ and screeched to a halt beside a dark blue Mercedes.

Ross was about to get out of the car when William said quietly, ‘Wrong number plate.’

No one spoke as Danny turned the car around and put his foot on the accelerator. He slowed down only when he was back at the crossroads. This time, he turned left and followed the signpost to Sevenoaks, being careful to keep his speed below thirty.

William couldn’t help wishing he’d stayed in New York and was now visiting the Frick, rather than roaming around the countryside searching for an abandoned car.

‘What in hell’s name are they up to?’ said Danny, when he spotted a couple of youths unscrewing the bolts on the wheel of a car. He threw on the brakes, but the two lads had fled in different directions long before he got out of the car, one of them with a wheel under his arm.

‘Do you want me to go after him, boss?’

‘No,’ said William, staring at the number plate. ‘They’ve left a far bigger prize behind. Call Inspector Thomas, tell him to send a tow truck, and to keep the car under wraps until I get back in touch with him.’

While Danny was on the radio, Ross, who had circled the car several times, was now looking over a nearby hedge. ‘Over here, sir,’ he shouted.

William quickly joined him. They clambered through the hedge and into a muddy field, where William used a small branch to carefully pick up a chauffeur’s hat.

‘We’ll only need one fingerprint to confirm that Captain Ralph Neville is in fact Miles Faulkner,’ said William. ‘But what I want to know is why he dumped the car here.’

‘That might be the reason,’ said Ross, pointing to a bus stop.

‘Well spotted,’ said William. They crossed the road and examined the timetable inside the shelter. ‘There was a bus to Sevenoaks at two twenty on Saturday,’ said William.

‘That would fit in with the timing,’ said Ross, as Danny joined them.

‘Inspector Thomas is on his way, and a tow truck will follow shortly. What next, guv?’

‘Seal this in an evidence bag,’ said William, handing over the chauffeur’s hat, before he checked the timetable once again. ‘I’ll take the next bus to Sevenoaks and meet you both there, at the last stop. Ross, when you get there, try to see everything through Faulkner’s eyes. That might help us work out what he did next. I’ll do the same while I’m on the bus.’

William watched as the two of them climbed back into the car and sped away. He sat down in the shelter and waited for the next bus to appear.