Breaking Point (30 page)

Alcott turned from the window to stare at Paget. ‘Are you telling me that Lyons held back information and went out there without telling
anyone
?'

‘That's the way it looks, I'm afraid,' said Paget. ‘And in all fairness, sir, he would have no idea that he was jeopardizing anything, because we kept that information to ourselves.'

‘Fairness?' Alcott fairly screeched as he slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘I don't give a shit for what this idiot knew or didn't know; he went off on his own without permission or telling anyone, and he is finished as far as I'm concerned, so you can save that little speech for the board at his dismissal if you like, but don't try it out on me!'

‘Assuming he's still alive,' said Paget quietly. ‘And,' he hurried on before Alcott could say anything, ‘if it was Emma Baker's call that prompted him to go out there, I'm wondering how she would know about the Roper farm? If Lyons has been caught, and he tells them who supplied him with the information that sent him out there, Emma could be in grave danger.' He made a move toward the door. ‘So, with your permission, sir . . .?'

He waited, but Alcott was in no mood to be hurried. ‘She
is
Sir Robert's niece,' he prompted.

Alcott's dark eyes glittered as he shot a warning glance in Paget's direction. But Paget did have a point, and chief constable's niece or not, he couldn't ignore the fact that an innocent person could be in grave danger.

‘Oh, get on with it, then,' he growled with a dismissive flick of the hand. ‘And for Christ's sake try not to make this into any more of a dog's breakfast than it already is,' he bellowed after him as Paget left the office.

‘So what's this flap all about, then?' Tregalles asked Paget as soon as he appeared downstairs. ‘Len says Lyons has gone missing, and it has something to do with Emma Baker.'

Before Paget could reply, Ormside said, ‘Here's Forsythe now. Did you get hold of Baker?' he asked as she joined the group.

Molly shook her head. ‘There's no reply from the cottage, and the people at the college tell me that Emma didn't turn up for class today. And she hasn't called in, which they say is unusual for her, because she always lets them know if she can't make it to class.' She turned to Paget. ‘Is Emma in some sort of trouble, sir?'

‘To be honest, I don't know,' he confessed, ‘but I will be a lot happier when I can talk to her and find out what she told Lyons. You haven't spoken to her since yesterday, I suppose?'

‘No, sir. But I can keep trying if you—'

‘That can be done by someone else,' Paget told her. ‘What I want you to do is go out there yourself and look for her. If she's anywhere in the village, she shouldn't be hard to find. So let us know the moment you do find her, then bring her in.'

‘If it's that important, I'll go with her . . .' Tregalles began, but Paget was shaking his head once again.

‘Just Forsythe,' he said tersely. ‘I want to keep this as low-key as possible.'

‘What should I tell her when I do find her, sir?' asked Molly as she prepared to leave.

‘Ask her exactly what she told Lyons, yesterday, and let us know immediately, but bring her in anyway.'

Still Molly hesitated. ‘It would help a lot if I knew what this was about,' she ventured.

‘I'm sure it would,' Paget said, ‘but that's all I can tell you at the moment, Constable, so please, just go!'

He watched as Molly made for the door, then turned to face the questioning look on the faces of the two sergeants.

‘She's right, you know,' Ormside said. ‘This job is no picnic when we know what we're doing, but it's a right bastard when we're kept in the dark, if you know what I mean – sir!'

Tregalles was nodding. ‘What
is
this flap all about?' he asked. ‘Why is Emma Baker in danger, and what has Lyons done now?'

Paget hesitated, but Ormside was right. Secrecy had its place, but since Lyons had taken matters into his own hands, Trowbridge's operation was already in jeopardy, so the old rules no longer applied. Both Ormside and Tregalles
had
to be told exactly what was at stake. And the sooner he had another talk with Trowbridge, the better.

‘If you are calling from Charter Lane, I'm not even going to talk to you,' Trowbridge said when he heard Paget's voice. ‘Bloody place probably leaks like a sieve, so if you want to talk to me, do it from an outside line. And no mobiles,' he added sternly before hanging up.

Paget walked down the street to the call box outside the local post office and rang Trowbridge's number again.

The superintendent was barely civil. Paget could almost feel the chill coming down the line as he explained very carefully what had happened, ending with: ‘Look, Ben, this man didn't know anything about your operation. As far as he was concerned, he received information that might lead to solving the Newman disappearance. Yes, he was wrong to go off on his own without telling anyone, and we'll deal with that later, but right now I have to know if the people you are after have him, because if they have and he has talked, then someone else could be in grave danger.'

‘That, my friend, is your problem,' Trowbridge told him. ‘Mine is trying to keep this entire operation from blowing up in our faces due to the stupidity of one of your men.'

‘I need an answer, Ben,' Paget persisted. ‘I know you must have a line inside. You'd know if they have Lyons.'

‘What I might know or not know is none of your business, Neil. I just want you and your crew to stay out of the way.'

‘They haven't, have they, Ben?' Paget said.

‘Haven't what?' Trowbridge asked irritably.

‘Haven't got our man. Because if they had, the auction would be off, and so would your operation, and you would be screaming bloody murder. But I'm not hearing that.'

‘You're assuming a hell of a lot,' Trowbridge grated, ‘but, all right, yes, you're right – at least so far, though God knows we've got our fingers crossed. To the best of my knowledge, they haven't got him, but it isn't as if I can ring up and ask, is it? I have to wait for information, and contact is sporadic, so all I can do is wait and pray. What concerns me most is that if that idiot policeman has somehow managed to escape detection, he could still be caught. Do you not have any contact with him?'

‘Unfortunately, no. But idiot or not, I can't just leave him there. These people are killers.'

‘Don't even
think
of going in after him,' Trowbridge warned. ‘You'd be putting too many other lives at risk, so stay out of it. We'll do everything we can to make sure we find him before they do, but he's going to have to take his chances for the next couple of . . .' He stopped abruptly.

‘Couple of
days
?' said Paget. ‘So you know exactly when this is going down, don't you, Ben? And you want me to leave my man out there all that time?'

‘I didn't tell you that,' Trowbridge snapped. ‘In fact we still don't have confirmation, but what I
can
tell you is if this clown of yours is still at large and hiding, he won't die of starvation or exposure before this whole thing is over.'

‘Perhaps not, but he could be injured, and I want some of my people with you when you go in to make sure that our man isn't one of the casualties.'

‘No need,' Trowbridge said dismissively. ‘We have his picture.'

‘Not good enough,' Paget told him. ‘We're talking about a man's life, Ben. One of ours, and you know how that resonates in the service. We have a stake in this, and I'm prepared to take this to the top if necessary.'

‘Don't try to threaten me, Neil,' Trowbridge growled. He remained silent for a moment, but when he spoke again his tone had softened. ‘I can understand your position, Neil, but you have to understand mine as well. Too many things have happened to upset our plans already; I can't afford to take any more risks.'

‘I meant what I said, Ben,' Paget warned.

A weary sigh of resignation came down the line. ‘All right, then, damn it!
You
can come,' Trowbridge conceded, ‘but that's it. Just you; no one else. You will be under my orders, and you'll tell no one about this conversation. Understood?'

‘Understood,' Paget told him, ‘but I also want it understood that while I'm prepared to let your people try to recover Lyons and get him out of there, I know what can happen in an undercover investigation as big and complex as yours, and I'm giving you fair warning, Ben: if you do find our man, I want him back alive.'

‘You've been watching too much TV,' Trowbridge said derisively. ‘Do you honestly think we'd
kill
him?'

‘No, I don't, but neither do I think you would go out of your way to save him if it meant jeopardizing the operation,' Paget said, and hung up.

‘There's no one at the cottage,' Ormside said when Paget returned, ‘and Forsythe says she's been in every shop in the village, as well as the pub, but no one has seen or heard from Emma Baker today. She said Baker's car is still there – it has two flat tyres, which she thought a bit odd, because they weren't flat the other day – but apart from that, and the fact that the back door still isn't fixed, she says everything looks normal.

‘Tregalles phoned the college and got Tom Foxworthy out of class, but all he could tell him was that Emma was still at home when he left this morning, and he was surprised to learn that she wasn't in class. Tregalles is trying to get hold of Sylvia Tyler in case she knows something, but she's off on some sort of field exercise. So, what do you want me to tell Forsythe? She . . .'

He stopped in mid-sentence. ‘What is it, man?' he demanded irritably of a uniformed constable who had entered the room and was now hovering a few feet away. ‘Can't you see we're busy?'

‘Sorry to interrupt,' the man apologized, ‘but I'm looking for DC Forsythe. We've got a woman up front who wants to speak to her. Says she doesn't want to talk to anyone else. Name of Baker. Emma Baker.'

When Emma Baker decided to come into town to find out for herself if anything was being done about the information she had given to the detective she had spoken to yesterday, she'd envisioned a quiet chat, perhaps over a cup of tea or coffee, with Molly Forsythe. She liked Molly; she trusted her, and she wished she had waited to give her the information she had given to the man she had spoken to yesterday. Perhaps she was mistaken, but Emma felt that the man was only half listening to her, especially toward the end – in fact she wondered afterwards if he even believed what she was telling him, because he'd seemed anxious to end the conversation.

But Molly would listen; Molly would understand.

‘Miss Baker?'

Emma had been so absorbed in he own thoughts that she hadn't seen Paget and Tregalles approach, and it took her a second or two to gather her wits. ‘Chief Inspector Paget . . .' She stopped, not quite knowing what to say to him.

‘I'm afraid DC Forsythe isn't available at the moment,' he said, ‘but we're very glad you're here because we need to talk to you. Please come with us.'

Emma picked up a large satchel-like bag that had been sitting at her feet, slung the strap over her shoulder and allowed herself to be shepherded down the corridor by the two men. But she was puzzled, and just a little bit alarmed. Why, when all she wanted to do was talk to Molly, would she be greeted by a detective chief inspector and a sergeant, both of whom were looking very serious indeed

She caught her breath and stopped in mid-stride. ‘Has something happened to Molly?' she asked anxiously. ‘Is that why I haven't been able to get hold of her?'

But Tregalles was shaking his head. ‘As a matter of fact, she is out there in Whitcott Lacey looking for you at this very moment,' he told her. ‘So it was quite a surprise to all of us when we heard you'd turned up here.' He was about to say more, but was stopped by a warning glance from Paget.

Ushered into a vacant room at the end of the corridor, Emma was invited to sit down. Tregalles closed the door, and both men took their seats facing her. Emma eased the bag from her shoulder and set it at her feet. ‘Something
is
wrong, though, isn't it?' she said as she looked at each of them in turn. ‘I can see it in your faces. Something . . .' She caught her breath. ‘Mark's dead, isn't he?' she said softly. ‘That's why you've been looking for me, isn't it, Chief Inspector?'

The question caught him by surprise. Trowbridge had told him that Mark Newman was dead, but Paget had told no one else.

He said, ‘No, that's not why we were looking for you, Miss Baker. The reason we want to talk to you is to find out what you told DC Lyons yesterday.'

Emma frowned. ‘Didn't he tell you?' she asked. ‘He said he was taking it all down.'

‘I'm afraid DC Lyons isn't available,' Paget said, ‘so it would be very helpful if you would tell us what you told him.'

Emma eyed the grave faces in front of her. ‘Something's happened to him, hasn't it?' she said. It was more of a statement than a question. ‘Because of something I told him?'

‘We'll have a better understanding of that if you will tell us everything you told him, and I would like to record what you have to say. This is not a formal interview, and you have the right to refuse, but it would be of considerable help to us if we have a record we can refer to later if necessary.'

Emma shrugged acceptance. ‘If it will help, why not?' she said. ‘Do you want me to begin with my seeing the Australian and the other man in the pub on Wednesday night?'

‘Everything that prompted you to call us yesterday,' Paget told her as he set the recorder in motion.

‘I realize now that it was a very foolish thing to do,' she said, then went on to tell them everything she had told Lyons the day before.