Jack in the Box (24 page)

He hesitated. ‘Max rang me first thing in the morning. Said a big shipment was coming in from the Cutter.’

She stared at him. Something wasn’t right. Tubby had told her the Cutter was Max himself. ‘Let me get this straight, Kenny, are you saying that Max didn’t do the cutting?’

‘Max? Cut?’ he said, caustically. ‘Where did you get that idea, love? Max wouldn’t have a clue. You need to mix the precise concentration of quinine, otherwise the stuff’s worthless. No, the Cutter was someone else.’

‘You’re absolutely sure Max wasn’t mixing quinine in the rented office, perhaps when you weren’t there?’ Steve said,
frowning.

Kenny looked at him with contempt. ‘You think I’d get a detail like that wrong, bright boy? Give me some credit.’

So Tubby had been misinformed. Max wasn’t the Cutter. Von pressed her fingers into her eyes. Was the whole operation at the Duke so shrouded in mystery that no-one knew who the Cutter was? Or had that piece of misinformation been deliberately supplied to throw Tubby off the scent? She lowered her hands. ‘What else did Max say about the Cutter?’

‘Just that they would be meeting at Max’s digs.’

Max’s digs…
Her heart was beating so hard, she thought it would burst out of her chest. ‘Later the same day? The twelfth?’

‘He wasn’t specific about the time but, yes, it was to be that afternoon.’

‘Does that mean he didn’t know? Or he just didn’t tell you?’

‘Max would know, love. The Cutter was always precise about the time of a meeting. And he never failed to turn up at the prearranged time. Never.’

She tried to keep the excitement from her face. The day Max had been killed, the Cutter had come to visit. This Cutter was the vicious thug that Dickie had said threatened Harrower’s family, and almost certainly killed Tubby when he got too close. Could he also have killed Max?

‘Wasn’t it risky meeting at Mrs Deacon’s?’ Steve was saying.

‘It was risky meeting the Cutter anywhere, mate. But when Max met him in his room, it was always Tuesday, after lunch. The place is dead then. Max told me that, after the landlady finishes her morning cleaning, she’s out shopping. Comes home only briefly, to drop her bags. Then it’s out for a meal with the girls, and off to bingo.’ He smiled. ‘He said she’s regular as clockwork.’

I left at about five and didn’t get back till eleven
. Of course Max would know Mrs Deacon’s routine. It meant he could
meet the Cutter with impunity.

‘How much stuff would the Cutter be bringing?’ Von said.

‘When he has dust to offload, it’s a large amount. We have to have the dosh ready.’

‘You must have had meetings with the Cutter too, when the Quincey Players were touring. Who was he, Kenny?’ she said softly.

‘I didn’t know his name. He wanted to be called the Cutter, said we should address him as that. We never met for long. He handed over the package, counted the money, and left. We rarely talked.’

‘Where did you meet?’

‘Somewhere out of the way. Always a different place in a different part of London. And never during the day. He’d ring me. I had no way of contacting him.’

‘Describe him,’ she said, folding her arms.

‘Like I said, it was dark, so I never got a good look at him. He wore a hood.’

‘For heaven’s sake, you must have seen something.’

‘Tall, held himself erect. Might have been a military man once. I met plenty like him in the army.’

‘Voice?’

‘Well-spoken. Home counties accent.’

‘Anything else? Come on, Kenny. Mannerisms?’

He ran a hand over his mouth. ‘I was late once. When I arrived, he was smoking. Didn’t smell like cigarettes.’

‘Dope?’ said Steve

‘I’d recognise that. It was richer, like a top-grade tobacco.’

Her breath caught in her throat.
Cigarillos. Hoyo de Monterrey
. If the Cutter had visited Max that fateful Tuesday, they must have smoked cigarillos together. It would explain the large quantity of ash. ‘Did you ever see his hair, Kenny? He can’t have worn a hood every time.’

‘He did. Either that, or headgear that covered his hair, like a ski hat.’

‘No loose strands?’

He shook his head. ‘And it was always at night.’

Just their bloody luck. Whoever the Cutter was, he was careful. They were dealing with a pro. A pro with blond hair.

‘And where were you for the rest of that Tuesday?’ she said.

‘Max never rang me. And I never saw him again.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’

‘I was with someone.’ He looked at the table. ‘I was with Georgie.’

She was conscious that Steve was staring at her. She kept her eyes on Kenny. ‘All day?’

‘And all night,’ he added quietly.

‘She’ll provide your alibi, will she? When I put her on the stand?’

His mouth tightened. ‘You’re not dragging her into this, Von.’

‘I have no choice. She’ll have to testify.’

‘You can’t do that,’ he said in a strangled voice.

‘I can and I will.’

He threw her a look of loathing. ‘This is so like you, love. Your fucking principles over everything else.’

‘That’s rich coming from you.’ She spat out the words. ‘A drug dealer.’

They glowered, like children daring one another to strike the first blow.

‘So what did you do when Max didn’t phone?’ Steve said quickly.

He dragged his eyes from Von. ‘I wasn’t particularly worried. I assumed there’d been a hold-up and he’d get in touch eventually.’ He paused. ‘When Von told me he was dead, my first thought was that the Cutter had killed him. Max might
have uncovered his identity and threatened him. Or double-crossed him over the money. I panicked. I thought I might be next. It was Max who’d introduced us, and it crossed my mind that the Cutter might be wanting to tie up loose ends. The following day, I went to Georgie’s.’

‘Your big tip-off,’ Von said, remembering they’d had sex that night. ‘And all the time, you were with Georgie. That’s where you’ve been hiding.’ Her voice was full of sarcasm. ‘Behind a woman’s skirts.’

He smiled his crooked smile, where a corner of his mouth lifted. ‘I didn’t always stop at hers. Sometimes we came here.’

‘And what was your reaction when you learnt how Max had died?’ said Steve. ‘The mutilation, I mean.’

‘I couldn’t understand why he did it like that. I was convinced the guy was ex-army. They know how to do them properly.’

‘I’ll bet,’ said Von.
Like he did Tubby
.

‘I reckoned he wanted you to think it was the same guy who did the Jack in the Boxes. You’d be too busy chasing your tail to catch the real killer. Anyway, I went to Max’s memorial. It was stupid – you saw me – but I thought he’d be there and I’d recognise the voice. If I could pinpoint him, it might give me some leverage.’

‘Were you thinking of turning him in?’ she said, astonished.

He avoided her eyes. ‘I thought I’d let him know there was a letter to be opened in the event of my death. That sort of thing.’

She smiled thinly. ‘You’ve been watching too much television, Kenny.’

‘It was a waste of time, he wasn’t there.’ He played with the food packets, turning them over. ‘There’s something I have to tell you, Von. It was when I discovered you were getting close to the Duke. It was just a matter of time before you found out about me.’ He looked at her pleadingly. ‘I decided to put the frighteners on you. I went to the theatre and bought a doll.’

Opening night at the Garrimont. The man in the dark jacket. She closed her eyes.
Jesus, not you, Kenny, not you
.

‘I was the one who left the doll outside your flat,’ he said, his voice quivering.

He tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away.

‘I did that stuff to it to warn you off. You know, with the knots and the blood. I should have known that you—’

‘You bastard.’ She sprang to her feet. ‘You fucking piece of shit.’

She balled her hand into a fist and swung her arm. Kenny jerked his head back, but not quickly enough. Blood gushed from his nose. She took a step forward, bringing her fist back to strike again, but Steve threw his arms round her and pulled her away. She struggled briefly. He must have sensed her resignation because he released her. She collapsed into the chair with a low moan, and clamped her hands over her face.

Kenny was on his feet, blood dripping onto his shirt, but he made no attempt to staunch the flow. ‘I deserved that,’ he said, almost with satisfaction.

Steve shook a handkerchief from his pocket and threw it at him. ‘Use this before you bleed to death.’

Kenny pressed the handkerchief to his nose. ‘You always did have a great right hook, love.’

‘Don’t you dare make a joke out of it,’ she said, through clenched teeth. A great sadness came over her suddenly, settling like a cloak. ‘Why Kenny? Why did you do it? Is money so important?’

He lowered the handkerchief, letting the blood trickle over his mouth. ‘You think I was doing it for myself. That’s how it was to begin with, for sure.’ His voice softened. ‘Shall I tell you about Georgie? You deserve to know. Her mother had her when she was only sixteen. Abandoned her, left her parents to bring her up while she went and got on with her own life. But
Georgie grew into a beautiful, wonderful, woman. If you saw her now, Von, you’d understand how I fell in love. The money I stashed away over the last fifteen years went to her. All of it. I didn’t keep a single penny.’ He wiped the blood away, smearing his chin. ‘I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I only wanted to help her. I tried hard not to love her.’

‘Oh, Kenny,’ Von said, tears spilling down her cheeks. She buried her head in her arms.

Steve moved away and gazed through the window, as though everything he ever wanted to know was out there. He traced a pattern on the pane, listening to the anguished sobs.

A moment later they heard the creak of the kitchen door.

Steve spun round.

‘He’s doing a runner!’ Von yelled, jumping to her feet. ‘Grab him, Steve!’

Steve bolted into the living room and hurled himself at Kenny. Kenny, easily the stronger of the two, landed a punch on his face that floored him.

Von dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands.

‘For God’s sake, never mind me,’ he gasped. ‘Go after him. Quickly. He’s getting away.’

She heard the front door open and slam. She ran into the corridor and flung the door wide. On the steps, she looked frantically first in one direction, then the other.

But she was too late. Kenny had vanished.

Chapter 29

‘We’ll find him,’ Steve said. ‘He can’t have gone far, we got it out quickly.’

Von looked up from her desk. ‘Perhaps.’ But she was less convinced.

The call had been put out for Kenny’s arrest. Zoë had been dispatched with a group of officers to seal off the ports and airports. The detectives back from the scene of Tubby’s murder had been sent to investigate the rented office, and the rest of the team had gone to search Kenny’s flat. The Chief Super was still nursing his mother.

‘Come on, Steve,’ Von said weakly, ‘buy a girl a drink.’

The corners of his eyes creased. ‘You’re sure this is a good time to start on the voddie?’

‘Oh yes, this is an excellent time to start on the voddie.’

The Drunken Duck was empty. They were too late for lunch, but the barman, eying their bruises knowingly, made them cheese salad sandwiches.

‘You up to talking about this?’ Steve said, watching her picking out the salad onions.

‘Look, I’m not weeping into a bucket over Kenny. What rankles most is that I’ve been a twenty-four-carat idiot. I usually am, where men are concerned,’ she added bitterly.

‘Boss—’

‘Let’s get on with the case, Steve.’ She removed a piece of cheese and chewed slowly. ‘If what Kenny said was true, Tubby
was given wrong information about the Cutter. It wasn’t Max Quincey.’

‘Aye. And I take it we’re ruling Kenny out as Max’s killer.’

‘Where’s the motive?’

He smiled. ‘Find the motive, and you find the murderer.’

‘If Kenny killed Max for whatever reason, he wouldn’t have mutilated him.’ She offered Steve her sandwich. ‘You want the rest? I’m not hungry.’

‘So what do you think happened on the day Max died?’ he said, taking half of the sandwich in one bite. ‘We know the Cutter was meeting him in his room. We don’t know the time, only that it was late afternoon,’ he added with his mouth full.

‘The landlady was out from 5.00pm. I’m betting the Cutter came shortly after, otherwise he’d risk running into her. And he strikes me as someone who doesn’t take unnecessary chances.’

He set down the remains of the sandwich. ‘You’re giving me the look. What am I missing?’

‘Think about it, Steve. One thing we didn’t find in Max’s room was a large package of heroin. The Cutter would have brought it, ready to be divvied.’

‘Okay, so he must have come early enough for Max to leave his digs and get the heroin to his rented office. If the Cutter
did
kill Max, he must have returned some time that evening.’

‘Here’s the million-dollar question: why would the Cutter return to kill him? If that was his intention, he would have done it when he came earlier. The place was deserted after all.’ She tapped the table. ‘But the clincher is that he wouldn’t have brought Max the package, whatever time he arrived. Why give heroin to a man you’re about to kill?’

He looked blank.

‘Regardless of the time he came,’ she said patiently, ‘the presence or absence of a package in Max’s rented office will give us a clue as to the Cutter’s objective.’

‘Got it, boss. If there’s no package, he intended to kill him.’

‘If there’s no package, he
may
have intended to kill him. But if there
is
a package, he definitely didn’t. We should know soon enough, although if our guys don’t get to that office before Kenny, then we’re Donald Ducked.’

He wiped the crumbs from his mouth. ‘If this package
is
in the office, we should find the Cutter’s dabs all over it.’

‘He’d have been careful to wear gloves. Remember the only prints we found in Max’s room were on the taps. He was careless there.’

‘What about Kenny’s theory that the Cutter mutilated Max because he wanted us to think he was the Jack in the Box murderer?’

‘Doesn’t wash. That way of killing led us to the boys, and from them to the Duke and the drugs. Why would he lead us there?’ She played with the salad onions, arranging them in a pattern. ‘That mutilation is difficult to explain, whatever theory you formulate.’

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I take it the Cutter’s now our prime suspect.’

‘Pity we don’t have much of a description.’

‘Other than an army man.’

She snorted. ‘Kenny says that about everyone who stands up straight. One thing’s for sure, though. We can definitely rule Max out as the Cutter. Kenny knew Max.’

‘The Cutter seemed to have had a much more easy-going relationship with Max. He met Kenny at night, hooded, but he was willing to meet Max during the day at his lodgings. Suggests he knew him from before. That would tie in with him being Michael Gillanders.’

‘Do you really see Gillanders masterminding all this, Steve? Okay, he had a good financial brain, but this sort of scam where huge numbers of people are involved doesn’t strike me as his
thing.’

‘Gillanders smoked Hoyo de Monterrey.’

‘But it wasn’t Gillanders’s hair we found in the room.’

‘He could still have been there. He could have killed Max almost any time that Tuesday.’

‘So whose hair was it?’ she said in exasperation. ‘If we could only put that one to bed.’

‘Have you considered it might be this Jonathan Moudry’s?’

‘Kenny said he left London in ’85.’

‘Maybe he returned and resumed his relationship with Max. And Max kept quiet about it to Kenny.’ A smile crept onto his lips. ‘Maybe Moudry was the visitor Mrs Deacon was always hearing on the stairs.’

‘Ah yes, Max, the
bon viveur
.’ She scooped the onions into a pile. ‘Perhaps they were having wild sex every day.’

‘The kind where you tie each other up?’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Moudry had short hair, according to Kenny, but he may have long blond hair now. Those unidentified prints on the taps might be his.’

She was silent for a while. ‘You may be onto something. If we can’t find Kenny, Moudry may be our best link to the identity of the Cutter. Moudry may have taken deliveries from him too. Okay, he only met him at night, but he might remember the voice. We have to find him first, though.’

‘Geordie accent, boss. He’ll be in his late thirties now. Not a rent boy, from what Kenny said. Strange we’ve only heard about Moudry now. And how come it’s only Kenny who remembers him? Someone must have seen him with Max.’

‘Dickie said Max hung around with loads of people. And Kenny did say there was nothing special about Moudry’s appearance.’ She reached for her bag. ‘Moudry isn’t a common name. Let’s get back to the nick and run a background check. He may have some priors.’

He studied his glass. ‘What if we find him, and it’s his hair and dabs in Max’s room, and he has a rock-solid alibi for the time Max was killed? We’ll be right back where we started.’

‘Moudry might still be able to give us the identity of the Cutter. Think positive, Steve.’ Her lips twitched.

‘What?’

‘That’s quite a shiner you’re getting.’

He motioned to her cheek. ‘Snap.’

Her expression softened. ‘People are going to take us for an old married couple.’

‘You cannot be serious!’ Von’s eyes were blazing. ‘What do you mean? There’s no office!’

Larry was looking uncomfortable. Amongst the junior staff, this behaviour was known as ‘Ma’am’s McEnroe Mode’.

‘The address Kenny Downley gave us doesn’t exist, ma’am. At least, not as rented premises.’

‘So what was it?’ said Steve.

‘An old people’s home, sir. We’ve got the dogs in there sniffing, just in case, but it’s looking increasingly likely we’ll find nothing.’

‘Give me strength,’ Von said under her breath.

‘At least the old folks aren’t complaining,’ Larry said, trying a grin. ‘They say they haven’t had so much fun since matron’s knicker elastic went.’

She turned away to hide her frustration. Kenny had outsmarted them. He must have known the minute he walked into that kitchen that he’d be doing a runner. He’d just been waiting for the right moment. It explained why he was so willing to talk. By now he’d have been to the office, taken the stash and disappeared. Finding the heroin might have provided them with a solid lead and, God knows, they needed one. She slammed her hand against the wall.

‘Another thing, ma’am.’ Larry lowered his voice. ‘The drugs squad have been in touch. I think they’ve got wind that we’re now investigating a ring.’

‘How the hell did they find that out?’ she said slowly.

‘Not from us. We’ve been careful.’

‘So what did you say to them?’

His eyes were steady. ‘That this was still a murder investigation and if they thought otherwise they should get in touch with the Chief Super.’

‘Initiative, Larry.’ She nodded, smiling. ‘Good work. And have you heard from the Chief Super?’

‘No-one’s been able to get hold of him, ma’am. His mother’s phone goes straight to voicemail.’

Things could be worse. At least she could get on without having Richard Quincey breathing down her neck. But she’d expected him to ring in. He’d made it clear he intended to keep his finger on her pulse.

Larry handed her a file. ‘The autopsy report on Michael Gillanders.’

‘Anything surprising?’

He shook his head. ‘The blood on the iron is his, ma’am, and the only prints are Rose Manning’s.’ He hesitated. ‘Sir Bernard is autopsying Tubby tomorrow. He wondered if you and DI English would be there.’

She turned away, the tears welling. This was one autopsy she wouldn’t be attending.

‘And he apologised that the forensics on Max Quincey aren’t through yet.’

She blinked back the tears. ‘What forensics?’

‘Something about chemical tests on the hair?’

‘Pity he can’t wave a magic wand and tell us whose it is.’

He was fidgeting. ‘There’s another thing, ma’am. We need Downley’s prints so we can check them against those on the
taps.’ He looked at a point beyond her shoulder. ‘We’d take something from his flat but we’re not sure whose prints we’ll find.’

They were all tiptoeing around her. By now, the whole nick knew, not only about Kenny’s drug-dealing, but about Georgie. ‘I’ll bring something I know only he’s touched,’ she said. ‘And tomorrow, let’s see if we can find this Jonathan Moudry. He’s the only lead we have left. For now, though, we’ll call it a day.’

Steve hung back, busying himself tidying a desk that didn’t need tidying.

‘Not got a home to go to?’ she said quietly.

He was looking everywhere but at her face. ‘I’m thinking you shouldn’t stay in your flat alone till we’ve caught Kenny. He may be dangerous.’

‘He’s hardly going to attack me.’

‘You don’t know that. It turned ugly back there.’

‘Yes, I hit him, I seem to remember.’

‘I meant—’

‘I know what you meant, Steve.’ She waited till he’d stopped what he was doing and looked at her. ‘If anyone tries to force the front door, I’ll climb out of the bedroom window.’ She smiled brightly. ‘The advantages of a ground-floor flat.’

He said nothing.

‘You may think I don’t know Kenny, but he wouldn’t hurt me. Of that, I’m sure.’

‘Let me stay with you, Von.’

‘You can’t.’

‘Why not?’ he said, a trace of anger in his voice.

It was a long time before she spoke. ‘Because we both know what might happen.’ She picked up her coat and walked past him to the door.

Von lay on the sofa, sipping wine, listening to ‘Shine On You
Crazy Diamond’. Whenever she felt low, Pink Floyd was guaranteed to raise her spirits. God, she was tired. It was the worst kind of tiredness. Not the tiredness of physical exercise, or even of a satisfying day’s work; it was like the lethargy after a long debilitating illness. They were still no nearer to finding Max’s killer, or the killer of the rent boys. It was as though she’d stepped into quicksand: the more she struggled to make sense of things, the faster she sank to nowhere.

They were fooling themselves if they thought they’d ever find the Cutter. Or Kenny. Especially Kenny. He knew how to hide. He had a string of contacts from here to eternity. And many lived abroad. She’d got his details out to the ports and airports promptly, but that meant nothing. There were a dozen ways he could slip overseas without being detected. Would he be taking Georgie with him? Without a doubt. She was having his baby, wasn’t she? His words still had the power to slice through her.
I tried hard not to love her
. Not hard enough, though, did you, Kenny?

She poured the last of the wine, and raised her glass.
Here’s to you, Kenny and Georgie, wherever you are
. She wondered what Georgie would think if she knew that the designer clothes she stood up in had been bought with the proceeds of the heroin trade. Would Kenny have told her how he made all that money? Course not.
I didn’t mean it to happen. I only wanted to help her
. The bastard. Tears stabbed at her eyes. If it took forever, she’d find him.

She rubbed her face hard. She was in danger of losing sight of the case. That was what mattered now; Kenny could wait. She considered the few options left to her. She could call the drugs squad and have them haul in everyone at the Duke. Tempting, but where would that get them? It would alert the Cutter and he’d melt into the darkness. Perhaps not, though. The Cutter had unfinished business. He’d marked her cards for
certain; under torture, Tubby would have given up her name. If the Cutter had killed a copper’s snout, he wouldn’t stop at killing a copper. A part of her wanted him to bring it on, so she could look into his eyes.

There was something she’d forgotten, something she’d meant to do, but the bottle of Shiraz had waylaid her. Kenny’s dabs. She dragged herself to the kitchen. The empty beer bottles were lined up beside the fridge, waiting to be taken to the bottle bank. She snapped on her latex gloves and lifted the one Kenny had used last.

She fished inside her handbag for the plastic bags which were, of course, at the bottom. It was a law of nature that everything she ever needed from that bag worked its way to the bottom. In a fit of impatience, she shook the contents onto the floor. The plastic bags fell out last. She wrapped the bottle carefully, pressing the plastic seal, and then placed it inside a carrier bag. She knelt to gather the rest of the items.