When Night Closes in (27 page)

‘What about him?'

‘He looks as if he's about to have a nervous breakdown, he's shaking like a leaf.'

‘All right.' Lainey sighed. ‘I'll see him now – come with me.' On an impulse, he glanced at Major. ‘Got any CDs in the station, by any chance?'

‘No, guv, but I've got one or two in the car.'

‘Get one for me.'

‘All right, guv, but I don't think heavy rock is your kind of thing, is it?'

‘Doesn't matter, just get any CD. I'm not going to play it.'

‘Right.'

Ken Major returned within minutes and dropped a disc on the desk. Lainey slipped it into his pocket.

In the interview room, Timmy Perkins was sitting head down, smoking a cigarette; from the look of the ashtray, he had been smoking for some time. Do the boy good to sit in a cold police room for a while.

Lainey took a seat opposite him. Perkins knew more than he was letting on about the whole sorry mess, and perhaps now he was prepared to talk.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting.' Lainey leaned back in the chair, waiting for Ken to switch on the recorder. ‘What can I do for you?'

‘I think I'm being followed.' The boy seemed definitely agitated. ‘Don't look at me as if I'm stupid, I was straight with you the last time we talked and I don't know anything I haven't told you already.'

Lainey took the CD from his pocket and put it on the table, label down, and covertly watched for the boy's reaction. There was none.

‘Know anything about this?' Lainey said at last. Perkins stared at the gleaming reverse of the CD and shook his head.

‘No, should I?'

‘It's from a warehouse on the docks,' Lainey said. ‘It might contain valuable information.'

‘What's that got to do with me?'

‘You use a computer. I know that because you reported it stolen.'

Timmy turned the CD over. ‘Games! I think I'm a little past childish pursuits. Why don't you play the damn thing and leave me alone?'

‘I can't.' Lainey took a wild guess. ‘It's in a strange language I've never seen before.'

Timmy shook his head. ‘I doubt if it's in a foreign language, it's probably encrypted.'

‘Explain it to me.'

‘If you want to hide information you can encrypt it. You can even buy a cheap package to protect any e-mails you want to send.'

He paused; he seemed to be in a better mood now. He was the sort of lad who liked to show off his knowledge.

‘You could put masses of stuff on one CD. You can hide a message in what appears to be the music in a game. Didn't you know that?'

‘No, I didn't.' Lainey looked at Perkins thoughtfully; the boy was no fool. Whether he would be helpful was another matter. He tried a different tack.

‘I'm sure you want to know what has happened to your girlfriend, don't you? So if you have any information that would help . . .' Lainey stopped speaking as Perkins leaned forward in his chair.

‘All I'm concerned about now is my own safety,' he said. ‘Why are you so curious about computer stuff suddenly?'

Lainey smiled dryly. ‘Leave me to ask the questions, there's a good lad. Just talk to me some more about this encryption business.'

‘What do you want to know?'

Lainey shrugged. ‘I'm not sure, just humour me. The sooner we get this over, the sooner you can leave.'

‘Anyone got a cigarette?'

‘No.' Lainey smiled. ‘I don't smoke.' He switched off the tape. ‘Ken, see if you can cadge a cigarette from one of the boys.'

Ken left the room and Lainey stared at Timmy Perkins. ‘Carry on.'

‘I don't really know anything more about it. I've never actually used encryption myself, I don't have the facilities or the need.'

‘What about Sally White?'

Timmy shook his head. ‘Sally was no computer buff, she used the one at work for basic accounts, that sort of thing.'

Lainey pointed to the CD on the table. ‘If someone was sending information to certain parties across the Continent, why wouldn't they use the net?'

‘Too risky,' Perkins said. ‘Any fool can tap into information on the net, if they know what they are doing.'

‘Do you? Know what you are doing?'

‘I don't like that implication.'

‘Too bad. Are you a computer expert or not?' Lainey persisted.

‘I'm taking IT at college, but I wouldn't call that being an expert.'

‘Right, but you'd know enough to work out the most profitable way to send information to other countries? What could be sent on a CD?'

Perkins frowned. ‘I don't know! I suppose it could be lists of debtors, people whose business is going down.'

Lainey looked at him in surprise. ‘To what end?'

Perkins shook his head. ‘You don't know much about making money, do you?'

‘Tell me, then.'

‘Some people, sometimes the bailiffs themselves, buy up the assets of firms going bust at a knock-down price,' Perkins said. ‘Buildings, equipment, rolling stock, lorries, anything that's there for the taking.'

‘Are there enough people in Britain going bust to fund such a scheme?'

Perkins laughed. ‘Probably, but you wouldn't limit yourself to this country, would you?' He spoke as if Lainey was an ignorant child. ‘People go bust everywhere, the Continent, America, all over. With the right connections, you'd be laughing.'

‘Is this what you were doing?'

‘I'm just surmising, Inspector, as you wanted me to.'

‘What about extortion?' Lainey threw the question into the conversation casually. Perkins sat up straighter.

‘Hackers can get in anywhere, banks records, defence systems, anywhere. Extortion is possible, of course.'

Lainey's neck was tingling again. Perkins's face gave nothing away but he was definitely rattled. ‘Go on.'

‘Take this scenario, you get some dirt on a few rich people, insider dealing, porno films, anything, then you blackmail them with the threat that the info will be sold to competitors or fellow politicians, anyone.'

Lainey thought about it. The boy was right. The fact that he was right probably meant he was not involved in any scam. Or the scam was not quite what he was making it out to be.

‘Well thank you, Perkins, you've been very helpful. How would I find someone who could translate encrypted information?'

He stared at Lainey; he was looking smug now, damn him! ‘I've no idea. Heaven help us if this is the best our police force can do. Why haven't you brought in the metropolitan police?'

‘Because I like to solve my own puzzles. Two people have disappeared in suspicious circumstances on my patch. I will solve this crime if it's the last thing I do.'

‘And it could well be.' Timmy pointed to the CD. ‘No-one would think twice about getting rid of anyone planning to spoil their little game.'

He rose to his feet just as Ken Major returned to the room, holding out a cigarette. Timmy Perkins took it and immediately lit it, dragging smoke into his lungs like a desperate man.

‘Can I go, then?'

‘Yes, you can go.' Lainey watched him walk to the door. ‘And thanks for your help.'

‘Get anything out of him, guv?' asked Major.

‘Just a lesson in computing,' Lainey said, throwing the CD down on the desk. ‘It looks as if I've been barking up the wrong bloody tree thinking Perkins was involved.'

‘Bad luck, guv.'

‘It's not back luck, it's just that sometimes the criminals are cleverer than me, but I'll get there in the end.' He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes. It had been a long day.

Lowri felt the late autumn sun on her back as she sat in her office, the computer whining its way into life.

She looked at the CD that had been in Sally's bag of possessions and after a moment slipped it into the drive. Immediately weird symbols appeared on the screen. Lowri went to the door and looked into reception.

‘Mrs Jenkins, I wonder if you could help me out here? My computer's having a funny turn.' Mrs Jenkins frowned, but got to her feet and followed Lowri into her office.

‘Look at all this stuff,' Lowri said. ‘Has some sort of virus got in there, do you think?'

‘I'll just have a look.' Mrs Jenkins sat down at the desk and began clicking away on the mouse. After a few minutes she ejected the CD from the drive and brought up Lowri's normal desktop icons.

Lowri smiled. ‘Thank goodness I haven't ruined it.'

‘No harm done but you should be careful what you put on the computer, some give-away discs have been tampered with and are designed to cause problems.'

She still held the CD in her hand and Lowri took it from her. ‘Thanks, I appreciate your help.'

‘If I were you I should bin that right away,' Mrs Jenkins said. ‘It could be faulty. Just bin it!'

Why was she so insistent? ‘Thanks,' Lowri said, ‘but I can't do that, it's not mine, it belongs to Sally.'

Mrs Jenkins shrugged. ‘Please yourself.' The phone in reception rang stridently and she went out, leaving the door wide open. She could really be a pain, Lowri thought, as she moved to close the door.

Mrs Jenkins was answering the call. ‘You wish to rent one of the cottages in Plunch Lane? Right, I'll inform Mr Watson at once.'

Lowri stood by the open door as Mrs Jenkins knocked on Mr Watson's door. Lowri heard him call for her to come in, then the two of them talked in subdued tones.

She returned to her desk and sat in her chair, remembering vividly how she used to visit Jon at Plunch Lane. She remembered the log fire, remembered her feelings as she and Jon had made love there. Now it was nothing but a burned-out ruin, like her love life really.

She heard Mr Watson leave and bit her lip. Something very odd was going on, and she just wished someone would see fit to put her in the picture.

She sighed heavily, thinking how much her life had changed over the past months. Her mother and Mr Watson had been lovers: the idea was really strange. She opened her bag and took out her mother's letter. It had only arrived that morning and she had been in too much of a hurry to read it.

Her mother's first words were to say sorry for deceiving her all these years. Rhian was begging for understanding, if not forgiveness. Tears blurred Lowri's eyes as she leaned back in her chair to give the letter her full attention.

Timmy Perkins sat staring out of the window into the college quad next door to his rooms. His head ached and he felt sick to his stomach. He had received a phone call that threatened to push him over the edge. He had been a fool to get involved in the scam in the first place, but the biggest mistake of his life was getting rid of that damned CD.

Timmy sat, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. Perhaps he should go to the police, tell them everything. But tell them what? That he had been involved, however unintentionally, in a gigantic fraud?

DI Lainey was bright: he was well on the way to working it all out, even though Timmy had done his best to put him off the scent. By talking about the sort of profit that could be made out of repossessions, buying up bankrupt stock and suchlike, he had, he hoped, given Lainey the impression that he was innocent. At least it bought him some time. Maybe.

Timmy rose to his feet, his hands thrust into his pockets. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror – he looked pale and sick. He would look a damn sight sicker if anyone hunting for the CD caught up with him, that much was obvious. He was trembling and he tried to pull himself together. A weak link did not last long in any organization.

Timmy fetched a can from the fridge and pulled the ring. The beer tasted flat and unappetizing, it was probably past its sell-by date. He put it on the table with a grimace of disgust.

He moved to the window and looked down into the quad where a girl was sitting on one of the benches, her hair blowing in the breeze, her skirt riding above her thighs. She reminded him of Sally.

Timmy sighed. He had tried so hard to please Sally and look where it had got him. He was right in the shit!

Sally had lured Timmy with her fabulous body, and it had made him feel good to have a lovely girl on his arm. She had finally betrayed him and vanished from his life, leaving him with a time bomb waiting to go off.

Timmy had handed the stuff over to Lowri because he was scared to hold onto it. By now, Lowri might well have damaged the disc, or destroyed it altogether. The thought made him shudder.

It was possible that she might have found a way through the encryption. Lowri was a bright woman and she had just the sort of enquiring mind that would make sense of what appeared to be nonsensical. But even if she did crack it, the information would mean little to her.

If Lowri did work it all out, there was no question in his mind that she would go to the police. He would be dragged in for questioning again, and this time he might not be able to keep his mouth shut.

‘Oh God, what am I going to do?' Timmy paced around his room like a trapped animal. On an impulse, he threw some clothes into a bag and searched in the drawer for his passport and the envelope of money that was his reward for services rendered. He would get right away until the fuss blew over.

Outside, he felt the cool of the wind against his face. His car keys jangled in his hand and he looked at the BMW, gleaming in the cold sunlight. It was a great car, a status symbol, but it could cost him his freedom, even his life.

He climbed into the driving seat and stared for a moment up at the blank window of his room, then he turned the key in the ignition. He drove away from the town and joined the motorway at the nearest slip-road.

Once in the flow of traffic, he felt safer. He put his foot down and wondered which was the best route out of the country. Perhaps the docks at Bristol would be a good place to start. He would have to dump the car, of course, just leave it in a car park. It would take a long time for anyone to realize it had been abandoned.