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9
We arrived back at number four, just in time to see the SOCOs lift Alistair Fleming’s body on to a plastic sheet.
I started to look around the bedroom. The bed was untouched, without a crease in the duvet. Expensive men’s grooming products were lined up neatly on the oak dresser. Towels were folded evenly on the towel rail of the en suite.
Paul handed me a pair of disposable gloves and I opened the large walk-in wardrobe and stepped inside. I touched his suits, his shirts and his trousers. I put my hand in the pockets of his jackets and found a taxi receipt, a dry cleaning tag, a pound coin and an unopened packet of chewing gum. There was a red and black Dunlop golf bag with clubs in one corner. In the middle, there were racks of shoes, at least a dozen pairs, arranged in the neat rows and in the other corner in a large transparent plastic container at least a hundred different varieties of scented massage oils.
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COUNTER MEASURES 10
I dragged my fingers through the manicured lawn of No.2 Magnolia Close, for some traces of sand that the rainfall had washed away. Laura Hardiman watched from her living-room window, with the obligatory glass of wine in her hand.“Found anything?” Paul asked, shining a torch over my shoulder at the grass.“This sand is really fine,” I said, rubbing my thumb and forefinger together. “It’s not builder’s sand. It feels like the type of sand you would find in the bunker of a golf course.”“How can you tell?” Paul asked.“I’ve spent enough time in bunkers to know what the sand feels like,” I joked.At that moment a battered old Mercedes that looked out of place in the plush surroundings of the cul-de-sac, pulled up on the driveway of No. 5 and a man with a lived-in face and crooked teeth climbed out. He was wearing a rumpled jacket, which wa
COUNTER MEASURES 11
Unusually WPC Melanie Softly was manning the main desk at the police station when we arrived.“Where’s Sergeant Higgins?” DI Silver’s tone caused the WPC to look up from her paper work.“Gone to the Oxmarket Golf course,” she told us, “a Winchester rifle has been found in one of the water hazards. He’s gone to meet the forensic boys there.”“Why didn’t he ring me?” the Detective Inspector pressed.“He did try too, sir,” she replied, “but couldn’t get an answer.”“You left your phone in the car,” I told him, “and I don’t remember you checking when we got back from the café.”“Bloody hell, I didn’t did I?” he relented. “I’d better get over there. Did Sergeant Higgins leave anything for us to look through?”“Yes, sir, it’s b
COUNTER MEASURES 12
There was mail for me the next morning. A hand delivered letter. I picked it up after I had closed the door of the outer eight by ten office, skirted the table and chair and pushed open the door marked “PRIVATE.”Behind the door lay my office which was a bigger room than the reception office and I immediately made myself a black coffee with the small travel kettle I kept in the bottom drawer of my desk with the water from the communal kitchen. I parked myself behind my desk, sipped the coffee from the chipped mug, ordained with the badge of Arsenal Football Club and opened the envelope. With the letter was a cheque for my services. It was quite a substantial fee. I immediately read the letter:OXMARKET ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY87 CHANDOS AVENUEOXMARKETSUFFOLKIP14 2NS01445-752028
COUNTER MEASURES 13
High tide had pushed into the inner harbour and the boats tied up along Oxmarket Quay towered over me as I headed south, past a forest of masts and radar grilles and satellite pods. The clock tower on the town hall could be seen above the steeply pitched roofs and dormer windows. I skirted piles of lobster creels and great heaps of tangled green fishing net. Skippers and crew were off loading supplies from vans and four-by-fours on to trawlers and small fishing boats, today nowhere near over before preparations were being made for tomorrow. Overhead the gulls wheeled endlessly, scraps of white against a clear blue sky, catching the midday sun and calling to the gods. At Buckingham Avenue I looked along the length of this pedestrianized street with its ornamental flowerbeds and wrought iron benches. On a Friday and Saturday night it would be thick with teenagers gathering in groups and cliques
COUNTER MEASURES 14
She came immediately and I studied her attentively in view of DI Silver’s revelations. She was certainly beautiful in her white dress with a rosebud on the shoulder. She was holding a matching clutch bag that was covered in silk rosebuds.I explained the circumstances that had brought me to Chandos Avenue, eyeing her very closely, but she showed only what seemed to be genuine astonishment, with no signs of uneasiness. She spoke of Captain Godden indifferently with tepid approval, it was only at the mention of John Kately did she approach animation.“That man’s a crook,” she said sharply. “I told the Old Man so, but he wouldn’t listen – constantly investing money for his plumbing business.”“Are you sorry that your father is dead?”She stared at me.“Of course. But over the years I’ve learnt to keep my emotions in check, so I don’t indulge in sob st
COUNTER MEASURES 15
The music from Turntable was pulsating in the Cellar & Kitchen, competing with the babble of voices and drink-induced laughter. I ordered a pint for me and a brandy and lemonade for Kimberley and we leaned on the bar and waited for the barmaid to finish serving us. The place was heaving, all the tables were full and a crowd three or four deep were gathered round the bar. The windows were all steamed up, like the majority of the locals who had been there from the start of the gig. Our drinks arrived, thumped down in a beer puddle on the bar. I dropped my money in the same puddle and caught the look the barmaid threw me. She swept the money into her hand and returned a moment later with a beer towel to wipe the counter dry. I gave her a winning smile and she replied with a sullen scowl.&nb
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After the helicopter had left, the man who had replaced Zoë as Oxmarket’s local GP, joined us and gave us all the information that I required. Ian Hammond had been found lying near the window, his head by the marble window-seat. There were two wounds, one between the eyes and the other, the fatal one, on the back of the head. “He was lying on his back?” “Yes. There is the mark.” He pointed to a small dark stain on the floor. “Couldn’t the blow on the back of the head have been caused when it hit the floor?” DI Silver asked.Much to her annoyance I had sent Kimberley off to use the many facilities available to the guests within the restored grand Neo-Jacobean mansion. They varied from a twenty metre p
COUNTER MEASURES 17
The bar was empty except for Sir William Frederick Patterson who was sitting by himself playing patience in an alcove formed by the left hand of three bow windows. We walked across the heavy carpet, noticing the rich background music of Hans Zimmer filling the room. “You must be Detective Inspector Paul Silver and John Handful, the consulting private detective,” he said as we came up. “And you must be Sir William Frederick Patterson.” DI Silver responded, sharply. “Please join me,” he said waving to two chairs that faced him. “Just let me finish this. Drink?” “Yes, please.” I said and we sat down and waited. He beckoned to the barman who came over
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