Turn a Blind Eye

26

Every member of the team except PC Bailey was seated around the table in the commander’s office long before seven the following morning.

William had told Beth over breakfast that he still couldn’t make up his mind if Nicky was in bed with Summers, as well as sleeping with him.

‘You can’t have one without the other,’ suggested Beth, for whom things tended to be either black or white.

William didn’t pass on his wife’s opinion when the Hawk asked him to bring the team up to date. His description of how he ended up at the Playboy Club the previous night had them all on the edge of their seats.

‘Well done, William,’ said the Hawk. ‘On balance, I think you were wise not to call in the local Crime Squad. However, we now have a genuine chance of mounting a successful operation without their help. Let me build you a skeleton before we all put some flesh on it.’

As he began to share his initial ideas with the team, it became clear to William that the Hawk couldn’t have gone back to bed after his phone call. When he had finished, all he said was, ‘Observations?’

Rebecca was the first to speak.

‘Lamont may well be paying off his debts once again,’ she said, ‘but it’s a rare day when he doesn’t visit the bookies, or his wife can’t be found loitering with intent in Harrods.’

‘And Summers?’ said the Hawk, turning his attention to Jackie.

‘He’s traded in his old Jag for the latest model, paying on the never-never, so no one can query where the money’s coming from. On Saturday he flies to Malaga with a Miss Karen Turner, also the latest model, although I have a feeling she won’t be on the never-never.’

The Hawk frowned. ‘What about DI Castle?’

‘Lying low at the moment. No obvious extravagances that can’t be explained.’

‘We could always visit the Playboy Club and check all the banknotes?’ suggested Paul.

‘No point. We’d never be able to prove who’d handed them over, and it would simply alert Summers and Lamont that we were on to them. We have to accept we’ve lost that one. Let’s hope that while Summers is away we find some of the banknotes in one of their homes. What about PC Bailey?’ said the Hawk, switching his attention back to Rebecca. ‘I thought she was meant to be going to Malaga with Summers?’

‘Apparently not, sir. She came home last night in a foul temper, and perhaps more importantly, she was no longer wearing her engagement ring.’

‘Whose side do you think she’s on now?’ asked Jackie.

‘Certainly not Summers’s,’ said William, ‘otherwise she wouldn’t have delivered that note to my home.’

‘We’ll soon find out,’ said the commander, ‘because there’s one more job I need her to do. So let’s hope hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’

‘Do you know where that saying comes from?’ asked William, leaning back in his chair.

‘The Mourning Bride,’ said the Hawk, without missing a beat.

‘Written by William Congreve in 1697,’ added Paul.

‘A Restoration writer and dramatist who was educated at Trinity College Dublin,’ offered Rebecca.

‘Born in 1670 and died in 1729,’ said Jackie, stifling a yawn.

William threw his arms in the air and accepted he’d been set up.

‘Nevertheless,’ said Rebecca, ‘scorned or not, I think she’s still in love with Summers.’ After telling the team everything Nicky had told her over breakfast that morning, she produced a small leather box and placed it in the middle of the table. ‘She left this on the hall stand this morning before she went back to Romford.’

‘I presume it’s empty,’ said Paul, flicking open the lid.

‘Yes, but as I said, Nicky was no longer wearing the ring, so she clearly wanted me to find the box.’

William studied the gold lettering inside: House of Garrard, founded 1735. 24 Albemarle Street, London W1.

‘It’s often something small and unexpected that finally catches them out,’ said the commander. ‘Well done, Rebecca. However, I don’t consider it would be appropriate for you to follow up this particular lead. Leave that to DI Warwick. Now let’s all get back to work. We’ve only got a few days before Summers returns from Malaga, so remember, there’s no sleep—’

‘For the wicked,’ they all chorused.

William was standing outside the entrance of Garrard’s in Albemarle Street forty minutes later, only to be greeted with a closed sign. He checked the opening hours printed in neat black letters on the glass door: Mon — Sat 10–5. He had to agree with F. Scott Fitzgerald: the rich are different.

He decided to take a walk around the block to kill some time before the jewellers opened. As he passed the Royal Institution, he spotted a poster in the window: Visit Michael Faraday’s laboratory. It opened at nine o’clock.

He went inside, and joined a trickle of visitors as they descended the stairs that led to the laboratory of the great nineteenth-century scientist. William marvelled at the genius of the man who’d first turned electrical power into mechanical motion, and vice versa. It amused him to read what Sir Robert Peel had said at the time, ‘But tell me, Faraday, what’s the point of it?’ To which Faraday had replied, ‘What’s the point of a newborn baby, prime minister?’

It was only after the clock struck ten that William reluctantly stepped back into the twentieth century. He made his way upstairs and headed back to Garrard’s. Running through his mind were the questions he’d prepared on the Tube to Green Park earlier that morning. He remembered that Beth had once told him she would happily strangle anyone who even thought about stealing her engagement ring.

A uniformed guard opened the door for him as if he were a customer about to spend thousands of pounds on a bauble. He walked across to one of the counters and presented his warrant card to a young woman.

‘Would it be possible to speak to the manager?’

The woman picked up a phone, pressed a button and passed on the message. After a brief pause she put down the phone and said, ‘Please follow me, inspector.’

She led him up an elegant spiral staircase to the first floor, where the manager was waiting for him.

‘Good morning, inspector. My name is Paul Gumbley.’

They shook hands, and Gumbley opened a door that led into an inner sanctum where kings, maharajahs, presidents, and the occasional dictator were invited to view treasures mere mortals would never see.

‘How may I be of assistance, inspector?’

‘I’m investigating the theft of an engagement ring which was purchased here,’ said William, as he handed over the little leather box bearing the Garrard’s insignia.

‘I’m afraid there’s not a lot I can tell you from this,’ said the manager. ‘I don’t suppose you have the receipt?’ William shook his head. ‘Have you any idea how long ago it would have been purchased?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said William.

‘Oddly enough, one of your colleagues visited me some time ago, and asked about the theft of some jewellery.’ He opened a drawer in his desk, took out a diary and began to turn back the pages.

Tell me his name was Summers, prayed William.

‘Ah, yes, here it is,’ said Gumbley, after turning several pages of his diary. ‘An Inspector Prescott from West End Central. He came in to enquire about some jewellery that had been stolen from a house in Mayfair. Although I’m unable to reveal the name of the customer concerned, I can confirm that an engagement ring was among the items stolen.’

‘I’m grateful,’ said William. ‘Just out of interest, how much did the ring cost?’

‘A little over three thousand pounds,’ said Gumbley casually.

‘Then you’re never going to meet my wife,’ said William, with a smile.

Gumbley accompanied him back downstairs. ‘I hope you find the man who stole the ring,’ he said, as he opened the shop door.

‘He’s not the one I’m after,’ said William, leaving a puzzled look on the manager’s face.

Once he was back on Albemarle Street, he immediately headed for West End Central police station in Savile Row. He passed several art galleries on the way that he would have liked to drop into and browse for an hour or two, but not today.

When he reached the nick he went inside and presented his warrant card to the station officer, who checked it before taking a second look at him and asking, ‘How can I help, inspector?’

William wondered how old he’d have to be before other officers didn’t look surprised by his rank. ‘Is Inspector Prescott on duty?’ he asked.

‘I saw him go up to his office earlier this morning. I’ll give him a bell.’ He picked up the phone and said, ‘I have an Inspector Warwick at the desk, sir. He wondered if you could see him.’

‘Send him up!’ barked a voice.

‘Top of the stairs, first door on the right, sir,’ said the desk sergeant.

William thanked him, climbed the stairs and knocked on the first door, waiting until he heard the command, ‘Come!’ before entering.

William was greeted by a colleague who was clearly nearing the end of his career. A lined and crumpled face that had experienced a life of crime. He shook William warmly by the hand and said, ‘How can I help?’

‘I’m following up a burglary in your manor. The theft of an engagement ring, among several other expensive pieces of jewellery. The manager of Garrard’s told me that you visited him about it.’

‘Mr and Mrs van Haeften,’ said Prescott. He got up from behind his desk, walked across to a filing cabinet and flicked through several files, before extracting one.

‘Mr van Haeften reported the theft last year,’ he said as he returned to his desk. ‘They’d only been married a few months, and Mrs van Haeften left me in no doubt that she wanted her engagement ring back, and I should drop every other case I was working on until I found it.’

William began to turn the pages, occasionally pausing to make a note and to sip from a mug of foul coffee. ‘Thank you, inspector,’ he said finally, handing back the file.

‘Do you know who was responsible for the burglary?’ asked Prescott.

‘No. But I’m pretty sure I know the thief catcher who stole the ring from the thief.’

Inspector Prescott knew when not to press for more information. ‘Please give my regards to the Hawk,’ he said.

‘You know my boss?’

‘We were at Hendon training college together. That’s where he got his nickname. Are you by any chance Choirboy?’

‘Good work, inspector,’ said the Hawk, after he’d read William’s report.

‘Where do we go from here, sir?’

‘You’ll recall I said at this morning’s meeting there was one more thing I needed PC Bailey to do.’

‘I think I’ve already worked out what that might be, sir.’

‘Enlighten me.’

‘You want her to check all of Summers’s crime sheets to find out if he arrested a burglar soon after the theft of the jewellery from the van Haeftens’ home, because that would explain how he got hold of a ring he clearly couldn’t have afforded. Depending on her answer, we’ll know whose side she’s on.’

‘And if she’s on the other side?’

‘I’ll arrest her the same day Summers comes back from his holiday.’

‘And just in case you thought this was going to be an easy week, inspector, you might be interested to know that Mr Justice Ramsden has begun his summing-up in the Tony Roberts case.’

‘My father tells me it can only go one way. In fact, he was surprised Roberts didn’t plead guilty after I’d told the court I saw him on the platform talking to the two men who threw Rashidi onto the track.’

‘That might not be enough to convince the jury. They may conclude he was no more than an innocent bystander who was as shocked as everyone else on the platform by what happened.’

‘Then why did he start running the moment he saw me?’

‘Good question.’

‘And what about the dozen witnesses who also gave evidence?’

‘Unfortunately, there are also a dozen people on the jury who may have been persuaded by Booth Watson’s silver tongue.’

‘If we lose this case,’ said William, ‘I’d abolish the jury system.’

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ said the Hawk. ‘That way lies tyranny.’

‘Can you remember when my birthday is, caveman?’

‘Today,’ replied William, as he took Beth in his arms. ‘I would have wished you a happy birthday this morning if you hadn’t been sound asleep when I left.’

‘So where’s my present?’ she demanded, holding out both hands.

‘Waiting for you on our table at your favourite restaurant.’

‘The Ritz?’

‘Not yet. I’ll have to make commissioner before we can spend an evening at the Ritz. Until then, you’ll have to settle for Elena’s.’

‘Where we went on our first date, how romantic.’

‘And before that, we’re going to the Palace theatre,’ said William.

‘To see what?’

‘Les Misérables,’ said William, just as there was a knock on the door.

‘Who can that be?’

‘The babysitter. It’s Suzy’s night off. Why don’t you go and get changed while I introduce her to the twins.’

When Beth came back down thirty minutes later, William couldn’t stop staring longingly at her.

‘Not a chance, caveman. After dinner if you’re good.’

William grinned as he took her hand. ‘The children are tucked up in their cots, and your carriage awaits, my lady.’

‘I don’t think you can describe a second-hand Austin Allegro as a carriage? More like a pumpkin, I would have thought.’

They both enjoyed the show from the moment the curtain rose, but Beth still rang home in the interval to check the children were asleep. After they’d left the theatre she sang ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ all the way to the restaurant.

Gino guided them to their table in the corner, as he had done that first evening five years before. A green leather box awaited her. Gino uncorked a bottle of champagne while she opened it, to discover a necklace of cultured pearls. She gasped.

‘Did you steal these when you visited Garrard’s, caveman?’

‘No, my grandmother left them to me in her will, to be given to the woman I married.’

‘What took you so long?’

‘I had to be sure you’d last,’ he teased, leaning across the table and placing the pearls around her neck.

Beth opened her compact and looked at her present. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Your grandmother had good taste.’

‘As did my grandfather, who brought them back from Tokyo to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary.’

‘Do you think we’ll make it to our thirtieth?’ asked Beth, taking his hand.

‘If we don’t,’ said William, grinning, ‘I’ll want the necklace back.’

‘Not a hope,’ said Beth as Gino reappeared at their table, notepad open, biro poised. ‘What’s it to be?’ he asked.

‘We’d like the same meal we had on our first date,’ said William.

‘Of course, but I will replace the bottle of Frascati with a vintage champagne,’ said Gino as he refilled their glasses.

‘I have another surprise for you,’ said William after Gino had left them. ‘It shouldn’t be too long before I rejoin the unit and officially go back to work at the Yard.’

‘What’s changed?’

‘PC Bailey. I think she’s back playing for the home team, which will make all our lives easier.’

‘Will she have to face an inquiry?’

‘With a bit of luck that won’t be necessary,’ said William as a waiter placed a bowl of stracciatella in front of him.

‘Did I really order soup on our first date?’

‘Followed by spaghetti bolognese. While I had the smoked salmon and the veal piccata with lemon sauce and creamed spinach.’

‘How did I ever get a second date?’

‘I could see the raw potential,’ said Beth. ‘Even if you’re taking your time about it.’

‘Are you the director of the Fitzmolean yet?’ asked William, fighting back.

‘No, but there’s a rumour that Tim will be awarded a knighthood in the New Year’s honours list, and he may soon be moving on to greater things.’

‘As may you?’ asked William.

A waiter was whisking away their first course when Beth suddenly grabbed William’s hand. ‘Don’t look now, but Christina’s just walked in.’

‘Is she with the captain?’ whispered William, as their main course was placed in front of them.

‘No, a rather dishy younger man I’ve never seen before.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought Elena’s was her style,’ said William, twirling a forkful of spaghetti.

‘Unless she doesn’t want to be seen by any of her friends.’

‘Didn’t you tell me she was getting quite serious about Captain Neville?’

‘That was certainly the impression she gave me when I last saw her, which was only a few days ago. She told me they were going on holiday to New York — on the Alden, no less. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s gone back to her old ways.’

‘I’m not,’ said William.

‘Do you think we should go over and say hello?’

‘She wouldn’t thank you for that,’ said William, ‘so I’d stay put.’

‘I feel sorry for Ralph. I rather liked him. But then, you always thought he was a gold digger.’

‘It’s not quite that simple,’ said William. ‘There’s something about Captain Ralph Neville that doesn’t ring true,’ he added, as their plates were cleared away.

Gino rejoined them a few moments later carrying a birthday cake. He took a deep breath and was just about to deliver a raucous version of ‘Happy Birthday’ when William whispered firmly, ‘Not tonight, Gino.’

‘Why not, signore? I’m known as the Pavarotti of Potters Bar.’

‘No doubt, but we’re trying not to attract the attention of a certain lady who’s sitting on the other side of the restaurant.’

‘Ah, Signora Christina,’ whispered Gino, joining in the game.

‘Is she a regular?’ asked William.

‘Certainly. It’s the gentlemen who aren’t.’

Beth laughed. ‘Is there any way we can get out of here without her noticing?’

‘Not a problem,’ said Gino. ‘I’ll take you through to the kitchen and out of the staff entrance.’

‘Not before I’ve paid,’ said William, reaching for his wallet.

‘This one’s on the house,’ said Gino as he began to wrap up the birthday cake in a napkin. ‘By the way, I love the necklace.’

‘Harrison. Craig Harrison,’ said Nicky when she joined Rebecca for breakfast the following morning. ‘A petty thief with a record as long as your arm.’

‘Did Summers arrest him for burglary earlier in the year?’

‘Yes, on May the twenty-third, for a separate offence,’ confirmed Nicky, taking a seat at the kitchen table, although Rebecca noticed that she didn’t touch her breakfast.

‘Was he charged?’

‘The following day, and when he came up in front of the magistrate, he pleaded guilty and asked for eight other offences to be taken into consideration. But I suspect there’s only one the Hawk will be interested in.’

‘Will you be briefing him?’

‘I’ve already left my report on his desk.’

‘That’s good news,’ said Rebecca, taking her hand.

‘I’ve also decided I won’t be returning to the force after the baby is born.’

‘I wouldn’t tell anyone else that,’ said Rebecca. ‘After all, you may feel differently in a few months’ time.’

‘That seems unlikely,’ said Nicky, ‘since the child’s father will be serving a long prison sentence, and I’ll be the one who turned him in.’

‘Summers is the father?’

‘Oh, come on. There’s no need to pretend you didn’t know.’

Rebecca sat down next to her friend and put an arm gently around her shoulder.

‘Do the rest of the team know?’ asked Nicky.

‘Yes. They have done for some time, and I’m afraid I’m to blame.’

Nicky turned to face her flatmate, tears streaming down her face.

‘As soon as I saw the ring, I knew Summers couldn’t afford a diamond that size on a copper’s salary.’

‘It could have been given to me by someone else.’

‘Like an estate agent from Croydon, for example? I don’t think so.’

‘But I gave it back,’ said Nicky defensively, ‘and left the Garrard’s box where you couldn’t miss it.’

‘I handed it to DI Warwick that same morning.’

‘I assumed you would.’

‘And it’s thanks to you,’ said Rebecca, ‘that we now know Summers arrested Harrison after he’d stolen the ring, so—’

‘Will I be arrested?’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ said Rebecca gently. ‘I know the commander doesn’t think you were involved in any of DS Summers’s criminal activities, and he’s well aware you alerted DI Warwick about his visit to the Playboy Club, which must count in your favour.’

‘But not in Jerry’s.’

‘He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.’

‘You’ve been such a good friend,’ said Nicky, taking her hand.

‘Not as good as I’d like to have been.’

‘Do you find the prisoner at the bar, Anthony Roberts, guilty or not guilty of murder?’

The foreman of the jury rose slowly from her place. She looked up at the judge and said, ‘Guilty, m’lud.’ William leapt up and dashed out of court, forgetting to bow as he pushed his way through the doors and headed for the nearest phone. ‘Guilty,’ he said when he heard the Hawk’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘So you won’t be abolishing the jury system after all?’

‘No, sir. But I may change my mind if Summers is acquitted.’

‘You may not have a job if Summers is acquitted,’ responded the Hawk.