A Place Of Safety(41)

‘Does anyone have any ideas,’ asked Barnaby, ‘as to how this breakthrough might put us on fast forward?’

Sergeant Troy did not hesitate. Although his thoughts and opinions were rarely canvassed, nevertheless he kept his mind in good trim. He could not bear to be found wanting.

‘Leathers saw someone being shoved into the river and tried a spot of financial arm-twisting. Instead of paying up, whoever it was gave him a nice wire collar. Also, as one of Lionel Lawrence’s bleeding hearts disappeared at roughly the same time, I’d say the two incidents were definitely connected.’ Troy paused, suddenly feeling very exposed, and stared hard at the nearest computer screen. The analysis seemed pretty sound to him but he knew the gaffer. Barnaby had a way of slicing through a presentation, finding the weak link and snapping it back hard under your nose, like a rubber band with a pebble in it.

‘Good.’

‘Sir.’ Troy received this with a certain amount of caution. He’d been here before. Something nice then a sting from the scorpion’s tail - e.g. good - for someone with three per cent of a dead amoeba’s single brain cell.

‘Although . . .’

Here we go.

‘The idea that this,’ Barnaby waved the paper, ‘is the first step to blackmail, though extremely likely, must be only supposition at this stage.’

He smiled happily around at his officers, lifted right out of his previous mood of despondency. ‘Anyone else? Yes, Inspector Carter.’

‘This nine-nine-nine call, sir. Maybe it was made by whoever did the pushing. They might have panicked. Had second thoughts.’

‘A rescue would hardly be in their interest,’ said Sergeant Brierley. ‘They could end up being accused of assault, or worse.’

‘Whoever it was could have fallen in accidentally,’ suggested Troy. ‘During a fight, say.’

‘That’s no lever for blackmail.’

‘Oh, yeah. Got it.’ I’m not saying another word during this briefing. Not a bloody word.

‘Right,’ said Barnaby. ‘Now, I want the tape of this anonymous call from force headquarters, so somebody get on to Kidlington. Also a copy of the report submitted by the investigation team who were called out to the river. Then we’ll start yet another house-to-house at Ferne Basset - leave out the Old Rectory, I’ll be calling there myself - plus the other two villages in the triangle, Swan Myrren and Martyr Bunting. Check on any sounds of disturbance heard between the hours of nine o’clock, say, and midnight. Bear in mind that could be anywhere - not necessarily on or near the river. Arguments travel.

‘As do floaters. So we’ll have to fax not just all our stations but borderline counties as well - Oxford, Wiltshire. And notify the river authorities. They might even run a search if we’re in luck. And I want an examination of the river bank as far as the weir but starting in the village. This is where Leathers walked his dog so I should imagine this is where he saw her pushed in. Plus a check on all the hospitals and morgues in that area. They may have had a drowning during the past six days. Don’t forget the outpatients’ register. She could well have climbed out or been fished out, needed medical treatment then been sent home. Wherever that proves to be.’

‘Do we specifically ask about a young woman, sir?’ asked Constable Phillips.

‘No. I don’t want it narrowed down at this stage. We’re still only guessing.’ Barnaby waved his A4 sheet with the six-word message briefly in the air before laying it on his desk. ‘I want copies of this on the board. Will someone please get Mrs Pauline Grantham’s prints, for elimination, and Leathers’ for confirmation. Also I want the phone box at Ferne Basset printed though I suspect after six days it’ll be a waste of time.’

As they all moved off, Barnaby sat back in his chair, eyes closed for a few moments of recapitulation. He decided to apply for a search warrant. It might be a good idea to look over the girl’s room and he could imagine Lawrence’s reaction should he turn up without the correct authority. Meanwhile . . .

‘Troy.’

‘Sir.’ Sergeant Troy scrambled quickly to his feet.

‘Mars bar.’





Hetty Leathers was anxious to get back to work. She was surprised, after Pauline had returned home to her husband and children, how much she missed the company. Though Hetty would be the last person to suggest that an unhappy marriage was better than no marriage at all, there was no doubt you got used to having another human being around the place. Pauline rang every evening and the whole family would be over at the weekend but it wasn’t quite the same.