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‘Very nice of him,’ Grace said, with a grin.
‘To me, that sounds like a suicide note, pal.’
‘Either way, he’s gone, Pat. Does it actually matter? Nothing’s going to bring him back – and, you know, I don’t think he would have wanted to come back. Life’s not compulsory!’
‘I like that!’ Lanigan said. ‘Life’s not compulsory. Think I’m going to use that line next time I have to deal with some total shitbag.’
‘Be my guest.’
124
‘Good morning,’ Roy Grace said to his assembled team in the conference room at the start of the morning briefing. ‘Welcome to this briefing on the progress of Operation Flounder today, September the 13th. An unlucky day for some people – particularly our perpetrators.’
There was a ripple of laughter.
‘But a lucky day for Operation Flounder,’ he went on. ‘Lots of positives to report.’ He looked down at his notes. ‘First up is that our forensic podiatrist, Haydn Kelly, has, through his analysis of Lucas Daly and his henchman Augustine Krasniki’s shoes enabled us to put them on Eamo
He turned to Norman Potting, who was looking better than last time he had seen him; clearly he had caught a little sun while in Spain. ‘You have some information for us, Norman?’
‘Yes, the Marbella police have found a witness who was close to Pollock’s boat on the night of Friday, August the 31st. He was approached for a light by a man who he could not see clearly, but he was accompanied by another man, and their build and height fit Daly and Krasniki. The Spanish police are intending to issue a Magistrate’s Warrant for both of them. Just to add to Daly’s woes.’
Grace smiled.
Norman Potting continued. ‘Spanish police, acting on information supplied by Shoreham Harbour, have raided a warehouse, and found a container filled with antiques matching the majority of the high-value items taken.’
‘Brilliant news. Thank you, Norman,’ Grace said. Then he looked down at his notes again. ‘There’s something else which I consider significant. Shortly after the robbery, when we requested photographs of the Patek Philippe watch, Gavin Daly informed us that the photographs he had, and those that his sister had, were missing. Search officers found them late yesterday in a locked filing cabinet in Lucas Daly’s back office behind his shop.’ He looked up at the Crime Scene Manager. ‘Good work, Dave.’ He turned to Bella. ‘How did the interview go?’
‘DC Exton and I interviewed Lucas Daly yesterday, in the presence of his solicitor, as the first of three interviews in our pla
She paused and checked her notes. ‘Now here’s the bit that DC Exton and I find hard to believe. Daly claims that they hired a Moroccan to go and talk to the men and see if he could get any more out of them.’
‘A Moroccan?’ Grace asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what he says. He paid this Moroccan five hundred euros to go and speak to the men.’
‘By speak, you mean torture?’ Potting asked.
‘That’s the implication, yes. Daly reckons this mysterious Moroccan might have just gone over the top.’
‘Does he have a name for this Moroccan, or a description?’ Emma-Jane Boutwood asked.
‘No,’ Bella responded. ‘He claims he only saw him in the darkness, on the quay near Pollock’s boat.’
‘This witness who gave Daly a light, did he see him too?’ Grace looked at Potting.
‘No, chief. The witness is adamant it was just the two men, presumably Daly and Krasniki.’
‘Something is not making very good sense to me,’ Roy Grace said. ‘Daly and Krasniki are big guys – what would this Moroccan, if he exists, get out of Macario and Barnes that Daly and Krasniki couldn’t?’
‘Our thinking exactly, sir,’ Bella replied.
‘So is your view that this Moroccan is an invention?’
‘It is, sir, yes.’
Grace nodded. ‘Unless someone can physically produce him, it’s mine too.’
‘What about this Krasniki, boss?’ Guy Batchelor asked. ‘Has he been arrested yet?’
‘No, it looks like he’s done a ru
‘He left a short note in an envelope for his boss, Lucas Daly,’ Alec Davies said, and held up a small sheet of paper.
‘What does it say?’ Grace asked.
‘Well, not much at all really, sir. It just says, “Sorry ”.’
125
‘Turns out the thirteenth was an unlucky day for Carl Ve
Marlon reacted the same way he reacted to everything else in life: by circling his bowl, opening and shutting his mouth.
‘That’s such fantastic news, darling!’ Cleo, seated beside him, set down her laptop and the one small glass of white wine she had allowed herself, kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug. Noah, lying on his mat on the floor, gurgled happily. Humphrey, asleep in his favourite place – the sofa opposite – did not stir; he appeared to be recovering, slowly, from his ordeal.
‘He’s got life, with a minimum tariff of eighteen years.’
‘You must be so pleased,’ she said.
‘And bloody relieved!’
‘What a week it’s been for you!’
‘I’ve had worse.’ He smiled and kissed her back, and ran his finger through the delicate Tiffany chain he’d bought her in New York, before heading off to catch his plane.
It was good to be home on a Saturday night again, and this was the first real chance he’d had to celebrate the Ve
Cleo picked up her laptop again and showed him a baby outfit with stripes on it. ‘Isn’t that so cute?’ she said. ‘It’s on this website, Zulily. Don’t you think Noah would look so cute in this?’
‘It would make him look like a convict!’ he replied.
She puckered her face in disappointment. ‘No, it wouldn’t!’
He continued to look at the estate agent’s plans for the house Cleo had fallen in love with, which they were going to see in the morning. But there was a shadow over that, too. He’d had the news in the morning’s post that the mystery buyer in Germany of his house had suddenly, and without any explanation, pulled out. They had been relying on his sale, together with Cleo’s, to fund the purchase of the new place.
‘Darling, do you think there’s any point in going tomorrow?’ he said.
Cleo smiled and nodded vigorously. ‘I was going to tell you this evening my bit of good news. Well, ours, really. Mummy and Daddy have offered to lend us the money for the deposit!’
He looked at her. ‘Really?’
‘Yes – when you eventually sell your house, then we can pay them back.’
He sipped some more of his martini, closed his eyes for a moment, sinking back into the deep, soft cushions. ‘That’s incredibly kind of them.’
‘They like you,’ she said. ‘I don’t understand why, but they do!’ She gave him a cheeky grin. ‘A bit the same with me, really!’