Buried in the Past (9 page)

‘Presumably, if the person you’re referring to had been ill, they might have been summoned to his bedside,’ Thornton pointed out. ‘I don’t see anything unusual in that.’

The Ferret nodded in agreement. ‘That’s exactly what I thought, Mr T, except that the information I was given was that the illness was a sudden one, an extremely sudden illness. A hit-and-run accident that remains a mystery, as I understand it.’

‘I agree, that certainly sounds odd. Can you tell me anything more? Like the names of the people we’re talking about? Then I’ll be able to judge if there’s any interest for me in this story.’

‘I think I can assure you of that,’ Freddie told him, making a gesture with his thumb and forefinger indicative of the passing of money.

He was right, of course. He always was. One of the reasons Freddie had survived so long was his ability to judge how much a story was worth, and who to sell it to – or who not to sell it to. Mr T pulled out his wallet and placed ten twenty-pound notes on the bar. Freddie smiled. Thornton’s eyes opened wide. ‘This has to be really good,’ he warned Freddie, adding yet more notes. ‘For five hundred, this has to be really, really good.’

Freddie, who had been something of an amateur magician in his younger days, made the notes disappear into his pocket in the blink of an eye. ‘The injured party has been a guest of Her Majesty for many years, a quarter of a century or so. This was the result of an unfortunate encounter with an old friend of yours, someone who was in the motor trade. Shortly before that, as I recall, the man’s uncle had passed to the other side, and many people believe the two events weren’t tragic coincidences.’

‘Ray Perry? You’re talking about Ray Perry? What makes you think this is worth five hundred quid? It would be if the bastard
was dead.’

‘Yes, that was what I thought at first. I thought, that’s
interesting
, but no more than that. Maybe some folk would place more significance on it than me, but no, not really valuable. Then, when I knew that my revered employer was dashing off up north with the man who is now making her eyes sparkle, long before Raymond’s accident, I got to wondering why. And at the same time, I wondered why Ray had opted to go to such an out of the way place. Why would someone like Ray Perry want to go there, unless there was something in that place that attracted him? And what could that be, I wondered?’

Freddie paused, but Thornton didn’t interrupt. He knew there would be more to come. Freddie always saved the best until last. ‘And then I remembered something I heard a long, long time ago,’ Freddie continued, ‘and I started to wonder if perhaps they’d all gone looking for something. Something they thought might be there, in this out of the way spot. Like on a sort of treasure hunt, perhaps.’

If Freddie had any doubts about Thornton’s interest, the final couple of sentences resolved them. ‘Treasure?’ Thornton asked. ‘What sort of treasure?’

‘Well, it could be all sorts of things, but I do recall hearing of something that was said to have gone missing at around the same time as Ray Perry went into solitary confinement. A large collection of diamonds, that were worth a lot of money, even in those days. What they would be worth today is anyone’s guess.’

‘Where is this place that seems to have attracted so much
attention
all of a sudden?’

‘It’s a small town in Yorkshire, I believe.’

‘How did you get to know all this?’

Perkins explained. ‘The thing is, a few weeks ago I was right outside the office at the time and just happened to overhear a phone call. Then, a bit later on, when I went into the office, I saw an address written down on a pad. Then after I heard the news about Raymond I got to thinking, I bet all this would interest my friend Mr T, so I came to tell you.’

‘You don’t happen to remember that address, by any chance?’

‘I can do better than that, Mr T’ – Freddie passed Thornton a slip
of paper – ‘I copied it down, see, so I didn’t forget. Even got you the postcode.’

‘I think you’re right, Freddie. That story was worth the money after all.’

There was one other piece of information that Freddie could have passed on, but he thought it better to keep it to himself, for the time being, at least. In a few days he would have the documentary evidence and when he had that, the money he’d just got from Thornton would be chickenfeed compared to what he could earn from the other news.

It is a curious, though well known fact that when people
foregather
at a bar, they often forget the existence of the person who has just served them drinks. Many professional and personal secrets are leaked out within the hearing of members of the bar staff. Some scandals reach the general public this way, which is probably why journalists are so fond of barmaids. Or at least, that’s one of the reasons.

Candy, the barmaid at the club owned by Thornton, had listened to his conversation with Freddie without understanding much of what they were discussing. The names were unfamiliar, the events they referred to had happened before she was born. Nevertheless, she stored them in her memory. One word had stood out, a word that interested Candy greatly. The word was diamonds. Not only that, a fortune in diamonds. Now that was sure to be of interest, Candy thought. Because Candy had her own secret, a boyfriend she adored, much more so than his ex-wife had done. Sadly, even without matrimonial duties standing in his way any longer, Candy could only see him occasionally. The frequency of their meetings was curtailed by the antisocial hours she worked, and also by his duties as a detective in the Metropolitan Police.

Half an hour later, Thornton walked into the upstairs room, where a game of blackjack was in progress. The croupier in charge of the roulette wheel was spinning the ball idly, watching it bounce around the various numbers before settling. There were no punters around the table. Thornton wandered over. ‘How do you fancy a holiday?’

The croupier eyed his boss with interest. When Thornton
mentioned a holiday, it usually meant a trip to Spain. He wasn’t averse to that – if someone else was paying. And when Thornton went on holiday, he always took the croupier along, not for his expertise with the roulette wheel, but for his other talents. In addition to relieving gamblers of their hard-earned, he also acted as Thornton’s minder. It was this talent that led to his nickname.

‘Where to?’

‘Yorkshire, I’ve just heard a very interesting story. Apparently there might be a small fortune in diamonds up there, and we might be able to get our hands on them.’

‘Whereabouts is it we’re going?’

‘Some place called Bishops Cross, near Helmsdale.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘Neither had I until half an hour ago. Let’s just hope the satnav can find it. I want to make an early start in the morning. I’m off now to sort out somewhere to stay and book rooms. Be at my place first thing.’

Thornton stopped at his office where his second in command was watching the CCTV monitors. ‘I’m going away for a few days.’

‘OK, Mr T. Anything special you want sorting?’

‘Better ask someone to fill in on the roulette wheel for a few nights. I’m taking Mr Muscle with me.’

It was late when Candy awoke, as often happened when she’d been at work. Thornton’s club stayed open until the last punter had been relieved of his cash in any of the various ways Thornton had devised, either by the exorbitant drinks prices at the bar, the less than favourable odds in the casino or by the services offered by the hostesses in the ‘entertainment suite’, as Thornton described the private rooms.

Candy wondered about getting up, when her mobile rang. She fumbled on her bedside table for it and grunted something that might have been, ‘Hello.’

‘Did I wake you?’

‘No, but I didn’t get home until gone five, so I’m still in bed. What do you want?’

‘Apart from you, nothing.’

‘That’s not fair, saying things like that when I’m here in bed alone and you’re miles away.’

‘No I’m not.’

‘You’re not what?’

‘Miles away, I’m sitting in my car outside your front door. I was going to ask about coming in, but if you’re in need of more sleep, I’ll go away.’

‘Don’t you dare! Hang on a minute while I let you in. If you want coffee, though, you’ll have to make your own.’

‘I can assure you, coffee was the last thing on my mind.’

‘Oh, good.’

Several hours later, Candy woke again. She looked at Detective Sergeant Brian Shaw, who was asleep alongside her. She snuggled
up to him, wanting him to wake up. Wanting him. Without opening his eyes, he reached across and pulled her closely and began to nuzzle her neck.

Later, they talked. ‘How was work?’ he asked.

She knew why he asked what was a fairly mundane question. Thornton had tried to enlist her as one of the hostesses and got quite nasty when she refused. That had been dealt with very smartly, courtesy of the sight of a Metropolitan Police warrant card and the threat of closure of the club.

‘Fairly boring,’ Candy told him. ‘The place is going downhill, I reckon.’

‘I thought it was already at rock bottom.’

Candy smiled. ‘Maybe, but it doesn’t help with Thornton buggering off up north somewhere.’

‘What’s he done that for? I thought he’d get lost north of the river?’

‘It’s got something to do with diamonds, although exactly what I can’t be sure. I only heard part of the conversation. Bloody customers needed serving.’

‘What on earth has Thornton got to do with diamonds?’

‘It was something a character called Freddie told him. Thornton must have thought the info was good because he paid Freddie a monkey without whingeing, which is out of character.’

‘Five hundred? That’s steep. It must have been really good news. Who is this Freddie bloke? Do I know him? Is he one of your regulars?’

‘No, I don’t think so. I’ve only seen him in the club a couple of times. Thin-faced little runt, sly manner. He has a nickname, some kind of animal. Weasel? No, that’s not it.’

‘Freddie the Ferret? He’s selling info to Thornton? Wow, what’s he got? A death wish?’

‘I don’t get you. Why is it a death wish?’

‘Because Freddie works for Thornton’s biggest competitor. And Freddie’s bosses won’t like it one little bit if they find out. And knowing what I do about the firm Freddie works for, I wouldn’t like to be his life insurance company if they do get to hear about it. What exactly did the Ferret say?’

‘I only heard bits between serving punters. It was something to do with his boss going to see a bloke somewhere up north, someone who had an accident. Freddie mentions this, and Thornton’s mega unimpressed, but then Freddie says something else I didn’t catch and then they’re talking about diamonds and I could see Thornton was getting a real hard on by the news. Next thing I know he’s gone, clutching an address and taking Mr Muscle along for protection.’

‘Did you catch the name of the man they were talking about?’

‘Berry, I think. Raymond Berry.’

‘Not Berry, Perry. Ray Perry?’

Candy nodded.

‘That’s a real blast from the past and I can see why it would interest Thornton – and Freddie the Ferret’s employer. It might also interest my old mate DI Mike Nash.’

‘I’ve had some success,’ Clara began. ‘Remember, you asked me to try and find out what had happened to Ray Perry’s mother? I made some enquiries around the area where the Perry family was based – the local council, Social Services, local charities and even the local branch of Alcoholics Anonymous. They wouldn’t tell me anything about their members, naturally, but they put me in touch with a retired pastor who’s been very active in helping
down-and-outs
and homeless people over the years. I spoke with him and he remembered Mrs Perry very well; regarded her as one of his success stories. Contrary to what we suspected, Mrs Perry didn’t die of alcoholism. In fact, at around the time of her brother-in-law’s murder she went in for a prolonged course of rehabilitation. Once she’d dried out, she spent a long time helping the pastor deal with women in a similar situation, or who had become homeless, or were escaping from an abusive relationship.

‘The pastor told me he all but lost contact with her after she joined what he referred to as a “quasi-religious sect”. I say all but, because he still receives a Christmas card from her every year. The last one showed a picture of the headquarters of the sect, which, as he remembered it, was based in an old country mansion somewhere in the Scottish borders.

‘I rang various local authorities and got lucky. The sect is based
in the Kelso area and is known as The Children of the One True Light. I rang them’ – Clara grinned – ‘and after I’d waited for them to announce their title, I spoke to someone who referred to herself as their almoner. She was quite open, said they didn’t believe in hiding anything and that Sister Evangeline, as Mrs Perry is now known, is one of their most respected elders. I asked if it would be possible to speak to her, but was told she was instructing some novices in the ways of the brotherhood and would be tied up for most of the day. I also asked about the possibility of a visit, and was told that was quite permissible. I said I’d ring back after I’d spoken with you.’

‘That’s extremely good work, Clara, and I’ve been doing a bit of thinking.’ Nash smiled as he heard Mironova groan. ‘Let’s face it, we’re making little or no progress as things stand, with either end of the case, so here’s what I suggest. We believe that the same person killed Graham Nattrass and Max Perry, even though there is a quarter of a century gap between the two murders and half the length of the country. At about the time that Nattrass was being killed, Max Perry’s nephew Raymond was also being attacked only a few miles away. Conclusion?’

‘That all three events were linked, even though we’re not sure what the link is.’

‘OK. Any ideas?’

‘It could be the missing woman, Frankie Da Silva, although I’m not sure in what way she could be connected to Nattrass. Similarly, it could be this talk of diamonds.’

‘I don’t see how Nattrass could be connected to the diamonds, Clara. He wasn’t born at the time, besides which the diamond story is just a rumour.’

‘Which leaves the woman.’

‘Possibly, but without more fact, more background, we’re snookered.’

‘That was what Wellings told us, barroom gossip I think he called it, all those years ago.’

‘I think we have to try and force things to happen.’

‘How?’

‘Let’s start with background on the people concerned. Begin with Ray and Max Perry. I think we should visit the Children of the
Whatever-Their-Name-Is and interview Sister Angelica, or whatever Ray Perry’s mother calls herself these days. If anyone can shed any light on their activities, she can. Besides which, she needs to know what’s happened to Ray.’

‘Her name’s Evangeline. OK, I’ll phone for that appointment, shall I?’

‘Please, and when Viv gets in ask him to concentrate on Graham Nattrass, find out more about his parents and upbringing. He can make a start on that. It will make a change from his trawl through theatrical agencies, although I’m still hoping that will yield
something
about the mysterious Frankie Da Silva.’

‘And what will you be doing whilst we’re busy with that? Nothing, same as usual, or sitting here pretending to think?’

‘No, I’m going to go through these files again and then phone my friend Brian in the Met. He might be able to tell us more about what happened to Max Perry’s organization after he was murdered. He might also be able to shed some light on what became of the one person involved in all this that we haven’t given much thought to.’

‘And who might that be?’

‘Max Perry’s widow, Corinna. It might be interesting to find out where she is and what she’s doing these days.’

‘You haven’t forgotten it’s my long weekend and I’m off tomorrow have you? I’m going to visit David; he’s got a weekend pass.’

‘Of course I haven’t forgotten.’

‘DS Shaw, please?’ Nash identified himself and waited.

After a couple of minutes, he heard, ‘Morning, Guv’nor. I was just about to phone you.’

Nash laughed. ‘It’s a while since anyone called me that.’

‘What can I do for you this time?’

‘I need some background information, if you can help.’

‘Would this have something to do with the Perrys?’

‘Yes, I’m trying to piece together the past and present.’

‘The odd thing is, I was going to ring you with something that might be relevant. This girl I’m seeing, Candy, she works behind the bar in a club run by a slimeball, name of Thornton. Going back
before our time, he used to be apprentice to Dirty Harry Callaghan, took over after Callaghan was killed. Anyway, Candy overheard a conversation during which Perry’s name was mentioned. By what she told me, Thornton was being fed a load of info and then he called in one of his hired goons and they shot off up north
somewhere
. At a guess, I’d say you’ll now have the pleasure of their company.’

‘Did your girl hear any more? Was there anything mentioned about diamonds?’

This time it was Shaw’s turn to be astonished. ‘How did you know?’

Nash explained, adding, ‘Which leads me to think there might be more than a grain of truth in this old diamond rumour. What I really wanted to know was what had happened to Max Perry’s set-up after he was murdered, and where his wife Corinna is nowadays.’

‘That’s easy. She’s shacked up with the guy who’s now running Max’s old firm.’

‘Really? Who is it? Do I know him?’

‘I doubt it. He’s a fairly unpleasant character; goes by the name of Phil Miller. Nobody knows too much about him, and nobody likes to ask. The odd thing is, Thornton was told Miller and Corinna had headed north before he decided to do the same.’

‘Strange how everything points towards these alleged diamonds,’ Nash said. ‘There’s another link with the present day, though, apart from Ray and the supposed diamonds.’ Nash explained about the identical MO. ‘We wouldn’t have made the connection but for the attack on Ray, which caused us to request Max’s file as well.’

‘Yes, but I thought it was Ray Perry you were interested in? Max was before my time. Ray was, too, come to think about it. I reckon when his Uncle Max was murdered, I’d have still been in kindergarten but I can ask one or two blokes who have been in this division a lot longer than I have. I’ll find out what I can and get back to you.’

‘Thanks, Brian, that’s great.’

‘One thing I do know. The guy who was feeding Thornton with
information is braver than he looks. He works in a betting shop run by Phil Miller. If Miller gets to hear he’s been passing the news, he’ll be very unhappy. And when Phil Miller gets unhappy, somebody usually finishes up getting hurt. Oh, and one other thing, watch out for Thornton’s hired hand. Goes by the name of Mr Muscle, but he’s more of a deterrent than a detergent.’

Next morning, Nash’s Range Rover was already in the car park when Viv arrived. He made two coffees and took them to the office where Nash greeted him, ‘Morning, Viv, how did you go on in Netherdale yesterday?’

‘It was bloody frustrating, to put it mildly. I went to the register office to get Nattrass’s birth certificate, which I thought was going to be quite straightforward. No such luck. As far as they’re concerned, Graham Nattrass doesn’t exist, and never did.’

‘You mean they’ve no record of his birth?’

‘No, and I made sure I’d got my facts right. I took his date of birth from the form he filled in when he applied for the job at the garage, because I thought that’s one thing you’re never going to get wrong, or forget, and the register office has no record of anyone by the name of Graham Nattrass born on that day.’

‘Perhaps he was born elsewhere, in a district covered by another office.’

‘No, they checked the records nationwide. Even then there was nothing to show for it.’

‘He could have been born abroad, I suppose.’

‘That was one thought I had,’ Pearce agreed, ‘but if I had to guess, I’d rather go for him being adopted.’

Nash stared at him in surprise. ‘It’s a possibility, but why put that at the top of your list?’

‘After I left the register office, I went for a coffee to think it over, and that’s when I had the idea. If he was adopted, that would explain the change of name, and also why we couldn’t locate him on the births register. So, as I was next door to the council offices, I thought it might be worth asking them to check their adoption records for that and the next couple of years. I thought that would be enough to start with, and then if we didn’t get any result from
that, we could extend it, because he could have been adopted at any age.’

‘Good thinking. Did it pay off? Did you find anything?’

‘Absolutely nothing.’

‘So, unless he was adopted later, that’s another dead end.’

‘No, I don’t think it is, actually.’

Nash frowned, his expression puzzled. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because when I said I found nothing, I meant there was nothing in their files to find. In fact there were no files to look through.’

‘Sorry, Viv, you’ve lost me. Completely.’

‘The files for that period are missing.’

‘How do you mean, missing?’