Indian Summer (7 page)

‘Three girls.' He grinned as he indicated the changes she had mentioned. ‘This is nothing. Wait until she's the age of any of mine.'

She laughed again, then called to her husband. ‘John, Mr Black's here to talk to you about what happened last night.'

The young officer steadied the swing, lifted the child from it and walked across to hand her to his wife. ‘Get her interested in those building blocks. It'll take her mind from the swing and there'll be no tears.'

Prue Sears glanced up at Tom. ‘I don't know how he thinks I coped with her while he played desert games for six months.'

Sears gently patted the head of the daughter he clearly adored, and led Tom indoors to a room he used as an office.

‘
SIB
, I take it?' He waved an arm at a chair, then sat at the desk and swivelled to face Tom.

‘Sorry to disturb your Sunday afternoon, sir, but there's an urgency to this case in respect of the safety of the dead man's missing wife and children.'

Sears frowned. ‘Sounds serious. Can't help you there, I'm afraid. I've never met Keane or his family. Had no reason to. You've come to ask me about my section, I guess. All I can say is that they're a very professional, close-knit group of men and women I'd trust with my life. Cruz and Figgis are naturally concerned because someone chose to kill Keane in the tank with something Gabbi Cruz created for the amusement of spectators. I spoke to them this morning and they know nothing of what happened after they packed up and left the tank, around nineteen thirty. I've no reason to disbelieve them.'

Tom nodded in agreement. ‘They've just told me they would have drained the tank last night, but you insisted that they wait until this morning. Why was that?'

John Sears' dark eyes narrowed. ‘Not so that I could commit murder. It takes ninety minutes to pump that tank dry, and another ninety to fill it with chlorinated water, to say nothing of the business between the two operations. My men had been on the go all day, and tired men make mistakes. Colonel Trelawney gave permission for us to leave the task until this morning. In addition, I like to oversee any activity with that tank, and I didn't fancy doing it at the end of a day I'd spent on horseback dressed in armour.'

‘You took part in the jousting?'

‘Unfortunately, yes. I'm presently black and blue.'

Tom greeted that with a faint smile before saying, ‘You're not overseeing the activity right now, sir.'

Taking exception to what he regarded as criticism, Sears said coldly, ‘Our eight o'clock start was delayed for three and a half hours by your men. The draining process was well under way when I took this lunch break. I'll be spending the rest of the afternoon and evening on the job.' He got to his feet. ‘You'll be wanting to get on with yours, Sar'nt Major.'

Tom followed the subaltern to the front door. ‘I will, of course, be questioning any of your men who were involved with the Corps enterprise for the Open Day. Thank you for your time, sir.'

On the point of driving away, Tom's mobile rang. A glance told him the caller was Max. He grinned. Having given his lady lunch, had he claimed an urgent need to call for an up-to-date sitrep? He had known Max would be unable to dismiss what he had been told of the case. The jellyfish was almost certainly the lure. There was nothing Max liked more than puzzling out how a killer's mind worked.

‘You're supposed to be romancing your ladyfriend for two weeks,' he said lightly.

‘Where are you, Tom? I'm coming in for a full report. Should be at
HQ
in forty-five, possibly less if the traffic has thinned by now. Are you able to r.v. around then?'

‘On way,' Tom said, still smiling as he disconnected and turned on the ignition. That love affair was on the road to nowhere.

FOUR

H
eather Johnson was combing accommodation blocks to track down
RCR
soldiers, all of whom were presently officially on several weeks' leave as part of the wind-down from Afghanistan. They had spent the first few days back at base in surrendering equipment, kit and desert combat uniforms, having medical checks and being debriefed by Intelligence staff. This had led up to the fun and relaxation of the Open Day, which many of them had enjoyed.

On this, the day after it, those troops planning to spend time in the
UK
were packing, consulting ferry timetables, preparing for the long drive, making steamy calls to wives or girlfriends and cheery ones to parents and mates. The men with families on the base were more likely to be starting a holiday in Europe when they had recovered from the inevitable rehabilitation period.

The stay-at-homes could not fully grasp what it was like to come from a day-to-day existence in a vast camp filled with mainly male personnel, living in a small unit with four bunk beds, or spending four days and nights with just a handful of mates way out in the desert, potentially vulnerable, where you sweltered and sweated by day and often awoke to find frost coating your sleeping bag. At the base there was the constant thunder of aero engines, the thwak-thwak of helicopter rotors and the rumble of the eternal passage of trucks. Alcohol was forbidden; so was sex with any of the women serving there, military or civilian. And, all the while, there was the risk of any day being your last on earth. It took time to slough off the warzone skin and resume the former one.

Heather was mainly seeking men of B Company, of which Keane had been a corporal. Olly Simpson was visiting married quarters and the Sergeants' Mess. Heather had drawn the short straw which obliged her to traipse through these accommodation blocks in the hope of finding squaddies who might have seen Keane on Saturday morning just before he was killed. It was a thankless task for a young woman dressed in a fitted grey skirt and a starched white shirt. Often found on their beds wearing just underpants, the soldiers jeered, cheered or wolf-whistled when she appeared. Even when she revealed her identity they pushed their cheeky masculinity as far as they could during the interview.

She had taken a break for lunch and now, late in the afternoon, she was confronting two riflemen of B Company who had plenty to say. Heather had discovered them playing darts in the recreation area, and they now sat in leather chairs facing her. This pair were close friends, clearly
NCO
material, if not higher. It was a relief to get intelligent replies from men of relatively serious vein. They revealed that they planned to fly to Canada the following day to trek through the Rockies.

‘We miss the wide open spaces,' explained one with a smile.

‘You're both in Corporal Keane's platoon?' They nodded. ‘What's your opinion of him?'

Rob Kelly, a serious twenty-year-old with brown hair and eyes, spoke without hesitation. ‘He made a good job of it out there. I never questioned what he told us to do. Seemed
OK
to me.'

‘And you?' Heather asked Rick Beavis, another dark-haired man.

‘I trusted him. He was a born soldier. His problem was his missus, so far as I heard. Tried to stop him being deployed out there.'

‘Wanted him to come out altogether,' added Kelly. ‘Stupid cow! What else could he do that would give her a place to live in and all this base offers? He loved the Army.'

‘He talked to you about his private affairs?' asked Heather dryly.

‘Look, it's different out there. You're in it together; living, sleeping, fighting in close proximity for six months. You can't have a can or two, you can't have a session with a girl. So you get very close, help each other, get your probs out in the open around a camp fire when there's nothing but miles and miles of dark desert in every direction. You become a family out there.'

Heather had heard this before. ‘So Flip Keane was in an aggressive mood over his wife's demand?'

Beavis smiled. ‘He was in an aggressive mood over the Taliban, who disturbed our peace.'

Kelly replied more seriously. ‘He was real choked-up when we left here. A lot were. Saying goodbye to weeping wives and girlfriends. You know. The Corp had kids. He probably cared more about leaving them than getting away from Starr.' He frowned and glanced at his friend. ‘Most guys are OK once they're on their way, but he . . . we both thought he took a little longer to settle in than the others.'

‘That's right,' agreed Beavis. ‘He was morose, edgy for several weeks. Did his job, but seemed to be fretting about something back here. Spent a lot of time calling home.'

‘He was very nervy, at first.'

‘That all changed when we ran into an ambush. The setting sun was in our eyes; couldn't see the buggers moving around,' Beavis explained. ‘It was a tricky one, Sergeant, but he got us out with whole skins. After that he always pulled out all the stops. Got us through anything, cool as you like.'

Heather finished writing a note, then looked up. ‘You've described a man with courage, expertise and assurance, someone you liked and trusted, yet somebody killed him yesterday in a most specific way. Can you guess why, or who might do that to him? Had he enemies in the platoon, in B Company, or even in the battalion that you know of?'

‘No,' they said together.

‘Can you think of any link Corporal Keane had with jellyfish or ocean creatures?'

Kelly put forward an opinion. ‘Wasn't it just a case of being convenient?'

‘Unpremeditated murder is usually committed with the weapon nearest to hand in a sudden loss of control. That synthetic thing in a tank of deep water wouldn't be the most convenient means of strangling a victim.' She held up her hands. ‘These would be.'

‘You're saying someone planned it?' asked Beavis. ‘It's
weird
. He'd been in the desert for six months, nowhere near the ocean.'

Realizing she was allowing the interview to run away from her with these pleasant young men, Heather fired a more pertinent question at them.

‘What did you do yesterday from mid-morning until midnight?'

They both looked startled. ‘You can't think
we
killed him,' cried Kelly.

‘I need to know your movements during the Open Day. We're checking out anyone who knew Keane in case they noticed anything that'll lead us to the killer. Did either of you see him yesterday?'

‘No,' said Beavis. ‘We slept in late, then spent the morning running over the details and timetable of our trip, checking our gear, emailing Rob's sister who we'll be staying with for the first three days.'

‘Then we had a late lunch and took a look at what was going on around the base, until the whole shebang packed up after the locals were shooed out. No sign of the Corp,' said Kelly. ‘It doesn't mean he wasn't there in that mass of people.'

‘What did you do after that, until midnight?'

They were starting to resent her approach, and reacted. ‘D'you want every detail, including the number of times we visted the pisser?' demanded Beavis.

Heather had been questioning soldiers long enough to be able to handle anything they might say. ‘If it's relevant to the murder case, yes.' She added, straightfaced, ‘You might have to give it as evidence in court.'

Kelly then said quietly, ‘We went for fish and chips and a jar or two, chatted up a couple of girls who'd been running the lost kids corner all day. Must've been around twenty-three hundred when we turned in.'

‘Did you get the girls' names?'

‘Fanny and Annie,' offered Beavis belligerently.

Heather gave him a glare. ‘Don't get smart, sonny!'

‘But that's right, Sarge,' insisted Kelly. ‘You can check.'

‘I will. So you didn't sight Corporal Keane at any time yesterday, or see anything you thought suspicious or odd?'

‘I wish we had,' murmured Beavis, suddenly serious. ‘To come through six months out there safely only to . . . which bastard would do that to him?'

Heather prepared to leave. ‘We'll get him, don't fret. Have a good time in the Rockies.'

‘We did see one of those guys who'd been jousting, as we came back to our rooms,' ventured Kelly suddenly. ‘He was still kitted out in armour, with the visor down. We reckoned he was having it off with someone he shouldn't and didn't want to be recognized. Why else would he be riding around dressed that way after dark?'

When Max arrived Tom was in his office drinking coffee. He got to his feet and held up the mug. ‘Kettle's only just boiled.'

Max diverted to the counter where drinks were made by members of 26 Section. Above it was a cupboard containing a tin of biscuits, another filled with small cakes and tarts, and a wide selection of crisps and chocolate bars, all of which frequently had to substitute for a meal. Unhealthy, but very satisfying. Although he had enjoyed a large lunch just over two hours ago, Max helped himself to two chocolate digestives and returned to Tom's office with them and a full mug.

‘What have we got so far?' he asked, pulling a chair round to sit facing his
2IC
.

Tom leaned back and outlined what he knew for certain. ‘Piercey phoned in a report on his search of the Keanes' home. No signs of foul play or abduction. Half-empty drawers and wardrobe, tidy house and absence of nappies, feeding bottle, pushchair and handbag suggests willing, organized departure of Mrs Keane and her children. Piercey says there's visual evidence of marital violence in their bedroom, which supports the neighbour's report of hearing them rowing on Friday night.'

Max munched a biscuit. ‘Points to a classic case of aggrieved wife deciding to put some distance between herself and a violent partner until things cool down, Tom.'

‘She could have killed him before leaving the scene.'

‘
I'm
the one who chases wild geese, not you, and that's so wild I'll pretend I didn't hear it.'

Tom grinned. ‘You're supposed to be planning a romantic tour of Germany, not finding fault with my ideas.'