Broken Faith (22 page)

Then the small thought that had slipped from his mind when he had sat on Suarez balcony came back to him. He remembered what the old priest had said. “We make a convenience of each other.” He smiled as another little bit clicked into place. And that's exactly what the clever old bastard had done, made a convenience of Jarvis. Jarvis was there so he had used him. Clever, devious old bugger, a piece of work McBride would have been proud of herself.

Jimmy finished the wine and another thought floated into his mind which also brought a smile. She was going to throw a fit when she saw his expenses. There was always that to look forward to. 

Chapter Thirty-two

When Jimmy woke up he felt both good and bad. He felt good because the sleep had refreshed him, but he felt bad because sitting with his head on his arms on the table had not been such a good position to spend a couple of hours asleep, and now he was paying the price in aches and pains. Also he needed to take another piss. He stood up and looked at his watch. He had been in this bloody interview room nearly five hours. He walked about the room stretching and rubbing himself. It helped but he still didn't feel great. Also his mouth felt like somebody had emptied a vacuum cleaner bag into it. That must have been the wine. He decided he didn't like wine after all. He walked to the door of the interview room opened it and went into the corridor. There was no one there. He went to the gents toilet and went in. An officer was using it. Jimmy ignored him and, after one look, the officer ignored him, finished, washed his hands and left. When Jimmy was finished he did the same and went along the corridor and out into reception. There was a new officer on duty, a sergeant. He looked at Jimmy.

‘Do you speak English.'

‘A little.'

‘How long is Inspector Santos going to keep me here?'

‘No idea.'

‘Can I get a cup of coffee?'

‘Sure.'

‘Is there anywhere more comfortable to wait than that interview room?'

‘No.'

‘OK, and thanks for seeing about the coffee.'

Jimmy turned and made his way back to the interview room. The remains of the meal were still on the table. He didn't sit down, he'd had enough sitting down for the time being. His bum ached from the hard chair. After a few minutes the sergeant from reception came in and put a cup of coffee on the table then left. It was black coffee and when Jimmy tasted it there was no sugar. Jimmy liked milk and two sugars in his coffee. He put it down and carried on slowly walking around the room.

He tried not to think about anything. There was nothing he needed to think about. None of this was his business any more. It didn't matter why Rosa was in Santander. All he had to do was get back to Rome.

The door opened and Santos came in.

‘I'd like you to come with me, Mr Costello.'

‘Where?'

‘To talk to Mr Henderson.'

‘What do you need me for? I've told you everything I know and where you can go to back it all up. You don't need me.'

‘I think I do. Rosa Sikora was arrested a few minutes ago at Henderson's villa. She was stopped in his drive, searched and was found to be in possession of an illegal firearm. We know where she got it from.'

‘Mercer.'

‘Of course. He was followed. He went to a bar where certain things are for sale, illegal things. Money changed hands and he was given something. He took it back to his villa where Sikora was waiting. He then drove her to the end of the road where the Hendersons live and dropped her off. He is now sitting in El Sombrero Restaurant arguing with the waiter about something.'

‘Getting himself remembered?'

‘As you say, making his presence memorable. Once you have identified the Sikora woman we'll pick him up.'

‘Why do you want me to identify her? Didn't she have a passport with her?'

‘She did but we would prefer also to have a witness identify her.'

‘A witness?'

‘Of course. When all this comes to court you will be an important witness.'

Jimmy didn't like that but he couldn't see there was anything he could do about it at the moment. He was still supposed to be co-operating.

‘OK.'

They left the interview room, were joined by a uniformed officer and went along the corridor and then down some steps to a lower floor. Jimmy recognised the cells. He was taken to a door, the officer unlocked it and opened it. Rosa was sitting on the bed. She looked up.

‘Hello, Rosa.' She didn't answer. ‘What does your Politics and Economics degree make of this?'

‘Fuck off.'

She looked down at the floor. She didn't look clever, sharp or tough sitting in a cell. She was trying to, but mostly what she looked was frightened and defeated.

‘It happens, Rosa, you better get used to it. It's one of the risks of the trade. When they charge you and you get convicted and they bang you up in some Spanish jail, think of it as a post-graduate course or maybe more of an advanced work experience placement. And spare a thought for Harry, he's going down for killing a police inspector. They'll throw the book at him and then throw away the key. Harry will pop his clogs in a Spanish prison unless he can bargain some reduction. I hope you didn't tell him what you were up to, because if you did he'll use it.'

She looked up again. This time there was real fear in her eyes.

‘You're lying.'

But he could see she knew he wasn't. He had seen people in interview rooms and cells look at him like that too often to be mistaken. She was finished; she'd sing like a canary now. Jimmy stood aside and the door was slammed shut.

‘Let her see Harry being brought in or in a cell then interview her quick, she'll fold like paper.'

‘We don't need you to tell us how to do our job, Mr Costello.'

Jimmy shrugged and walked away. There was no pleasing some people. Santos and the officer followed him up the stairs. Jimmy stopped.

‘Can I go now, I'm getting a bit tired of this place.'

‘No, Mr Costello. I told you, we need you for one more job. I am going to interview Mr Henderson, probably arrest him. I would like you to be there.'

‘Why, back there in the cells you told me you didn't want my help?'

‘No, Mr Costello, I said I don't need you telling us how to do our job. But it would be a great help if you were there when I speak to Mr Henderson. I now know what happened but you actually worked it all out and know all parties concerned. If you tell him where he stands I'm sure he will believe you, believe you much more so than he might believe me. Tell him what you told me and I think your assessment of Mr Henderson will be perfectly accurate.'

He was right, of course. But Jimmy didn't want to meet the Hendersons again. He particularly wanted to avoid meeting Mrs Henderson. He didn't like her, she was not a nice woman..

‘Are you asking or telling?'

‘It depends on whether you want to stay in the interview room for the rest of the night and probably all tomorrow, or go to a hotel.'

‘I see. OK, let's go.'

They left the police station and got into a big black SEAT. They sat in the back. A plain-clothes men was in the front and another driving. It was about one-thirty when they got to the Hendersons' villa. They pulled up at the end of the drive, Santos and Jimmy got out. A man got out from a car parked across the other side of the road, came across and spoke to Santos then stood to one side. The two men in the front of the SEAT just sat there.

‘Come on, they're both at home and the lights are still on.'

They walked up to the door and Santos rang the bell. It was Henderson who answered it. Jimmy bet it was always his job to answer the door.

‘Good evening, Mr Henderson, I am Inspector Santos, and this is Mr Costello, whom I think you have met before.'

Henderson was already starting to sweat.

‘Really, Inspector' he looked at his watch ‘it's past one.  This is most …'

‘Mr Henderson, this is a very serious matter.'

‘If it's about Jarvis again I've told the police twice that my wife and I hardly knew Jarvis.'

‘It is not about Mr Jarvis.'

‘No?'

‘No.'

‘Is it about the woman inspector who came last time?' Henderson paused, he didn't want to ask, but he asked. ‘The one who was murdered?'

‘In part, yes.'

Jimmy watched as Henderson visibly began to disintegrate.

‘But what could I possibly know about that? I only met her once, briefly.' He looked at Jimmy as if seeing him for the first time. It was a sign of how close he was to panic that he seemed to think Jimmy might actually help him. ‘This man was with her. He'll tell you –'

‘Shall we discuss it inside?'

Santos pushed passed him and went into the villa. Henderson followed and Jimmy followed Henderson. Jimmy left the front door open. In the large living room Dorothy Henderson was sitting with some embroidery on her lap. She looked at Jimmy when he came in with the same look as last time.

‘Sit down, Mr Henderson.'

Dorothy Henderson wasn't weak like her husband and she certainly wasn't going to sweat. She put her sewing down and looked at Santos.

‘I presume you are the police. Do you normally give orders to people in their own homes when you barge in at one in the morning?'

‘In cases of murder, intent to murder, possession and distribution of pornographic material and money laundering, I invariably do give the orders, Mrs Henderson.'

Henderson almost collapsed onto the settee. She took it better.

‘No doubt you have some reason for being here. It had better be a good one because first thing tomorrow, or I should say today, I shall make a formal complaint about the timing of this intrusion, your manner and behaviour and the remarks you have just made.'

Jimmy decided that if he was here he might as well make the most of it.

‘You may need to save a little time from all of that to slip in and visit your husband in his cell at the police station.'

She looked at Jimmy with total loathing and was about to speak when Santos cut in.

‘Tonight my men have been stationed outside your house –'

‘Spying on respectable residents? Do you and your men have so little to do with your time?'

‘– and some short time ago they intercepted a woman who was on your drive coming to the house to kill Mr Henderson. The woman is now in custody.'

That stopped her and Henderson gave a low whimper and put his knuckles to his mouth. Dorothy Henderson waited a moment.

‘Please explain, Inspector. Why would anyone come here and kill my husband?'

Santos looked at Jimmy. It was show-time.

‘Because he is involved with others in a criminal operation to create and sell pornography. He launders the profits through a company called Iberian Property Holdings which is based in Gibraltar. Inspector Suarez and I stumbled onto the operation while looking into the death of Arthur Jarvis. A man called Mercer, a colleague of your husband who poses as a writer, killed Inspector Suarez in a failed attempt to kill me. It was his second attempt.' She looked at Jimmy and he could see she was on Harry's side, she also wanted him dead. ‘I went to England and did some digging. Jarvis and Mercer were in prison together. I found that Mercer's writing was merely a front, Jarvis wrote his books, badly as it happens. Mercer's real business was hard porn. I also found that Iberian Property Holdings was a vehicle used to launder the proceeds from the racket. Your husband handles the money and the money leads to a man in London who set up the whole thing.' He turned to Henderson. ‘I've told the police about Tate and Wiston and the book sales, Mr Henderson. Mr Jardene doesn't send his regards, he doesn't like you making him publish Harry's rubbish, although he says it's getting better. He says the next one, although with Jarvis dead, there won't be a next one, might even have been commercial.'

Henderson was wheezing and gently rocking back and forward. Santos took over. Jimmy had done his job.

‘It was the man in London who ordered the killing of Mr Costello which, unfortunately, led to Inspector Suarez's death. Now the operation here is fully blown he hired a woman called Rosa Sikora to come and kill your husband. As I said, we intercepted her and she is now in custody.'

Henderson slumped forward and started moaning. He was also shaking. If he heard any more he'd probably pass out. Jimmy decided he hadn't been needed after all. But Dorothy Henderson wasn't giving in so easily.

‘Have you any proof of these ridiculous accusations?'

‘The gun the woman was carrying which we know was supplied by Mercer. The material on Jarvis's computer. The fact that Jarvis lived rent-free in a house owned by the property company. The publisher. The company in Gibraltar. Do you want any more?'

Henderson came to life,

‘I was forced into it. I was blackmailed. I had no choice. I'll tell you anything, anything.' Then he shouted the clincher. ‘It wasn't my fault.'

Dorothy Henderson looked at him, it wasn't a nice look for a wife to give her husband.

‘Shut up.'

But he wasn't listening.

‘They threatened me. I was a respectable –'

‘Shut up.' Her voice was raised and was a voice that expected to be heard and obeyed.  Henderson looked at her with frightened eyes and shut up. Good God, thought Jimmy, he's about to be arrested on a hat-full of serious crimes and he's still more scared of his wife than what's going to happen to him.

‘What did they use to blackmail you with, Mr Henderson?'

Santos' voice was calm and quiet with no hint of a threat. Henderson was about to answer when his wife spoke. He didn't see the problem with the question, but she did.

‘Nothing. If there is an ounce of truth in any of this, which I doubt, there was nothing with which anyone could blackmail my husband. We are and always have been respectable people. If, and I emphasize if, there is anything to this,' she looked at Henderson to drive home her point, ‘my husband must have been threatened. His life must have been threatened. There could never have been any question of blackmail.' She looked again at her husband who swallowed but seemed to finally take the point. He tried to speak, spluttered a couple of times, then got his words out.

‘No, not blackmailed, threatened, with violence. I couldn't refuse. They threatened my life.'

‘Who did?' The question came from Jimmy. Henderson and his wife both looked at him. ‘Who threatened you with violence? Who made you fear for your life?'