Faraday 01 The Gigabyte Detective (30 page)

She looked at him and there was a genuine sadness in the little black eyes. “I did everything I could for him. I continued to make myself available to advise him if ever he wished to take advantage of my advice.” She looked down at the intricate pattern on the faded carpet. “But I could do nothing to counter the attractions which she offered him. He left school at eighteen with very few qualifications. His father set him up in a profession locally to be near his beloved mother. In the fullness of time Giles realised that he couldn’t have her himself, so he discovered girls. In due course he found one who was nearly as pretty and as foolish his mother. He and Carol were dreadfully young when they married, but they were living close enough for him to still see plenty of his beloved mother. They had a nice house and a young son and a position in local society. For a few years they were all very happy.” She paused dramatically. “And then came the great betrayal - the first of the two betrayals which destroyed him.”

Paulson sat upright. Now had come the moment he had been waiting for. “Just a moment please,” he said, “I’d like to take some notes if I may.” He cursed the fact that he’d left his recording mobile on charge at the station. He realised he was already becoming reliant upon it. He opened his notebook.

“But of course,” said Aunt Agatha, “I’ll be careful to speak slowly and clearly to assist you.”

She continued with her story in measured tones while Paulson scribbled furiously and his breath came short in his chest. Finally he excused himself and hurried out to the car and set off back to Torquay at speed.

-
9. Saturday Evening
-

Julian Brace said he would pick her up at eight o’clock. Charlotte had spent the rest of the afternoon at the station in splendid isolation, updating the information on the computer and trying to work out the links between the various disparate directions the enquiry was following. She shook her head with annoyance when she thought about how literally the whole CID section had taken her suggestion that they should have the weekend off to recover from the hard work of the previous week.

She noted, when she switched on the computer, that Stafford Paulson had logged on at five past two. She noted that he was trying a new track, presumably based on some sort of hunch. That was an interesting development. But he had disappeared by the time she got there and she found she couldn’t contact him. There was no reply from his home number and he had left his mobile in the office. Control confirmed that he was out of communication.

Lonely and fed up, Charlotte went back to Newton Abbot at six o’clock to prepare for her evening out with Julian. She was slightly amused with herself when she noticed the amount of time she spent bathing and washing her hair and selecting her clothes. ‘Anyone would think,’ she accused herself, ‘that you were getting interested in this man. He’s only an ordinary reporter on a modest provincial newspaper.’ And it was even more interesting that she was ready exactly at eight o’clock when Julian turned up.

She drove back to the station to meet him. He was already waiting in the front office. She received an admiring whistle from the sergeant on duty and Julian was clearly impressed by her appearance. He looked at her appreciatively.

“Wow,” he said. “I must say I prefer you off-duty.”

His car was waiting just outside the front door on one of the restricted parking bay. He helped her into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her with an unexpected old-world courtesy. Then he got in and started the engine. He drove down to the sea-front and headed west. Ahead of them great angry masses of cloud had risen to hide the setting sun. The sea looked grey and cold. There were white horses out in the Bay which suggested the wind had started to rise.

Julian pulled a face. “It looks as though our lovely weather is coming to an end,” he said. “I think there’s going to be a storm tonight.”

Charlotte watched the darkening sky. She felt a strange disquiet, as though something unpleasant was already starting to happen just over the horizon. Perhaps it was simply that she was facing a boring weekend without Mitch to share it. She could imagine that she would be sitting in her aunt’s Victorian house all day tomorrow, looking out at the streaming rain, trying to read a book and feeling the frustration of being unable to do anything active to take her mind off things until Monday morning.

Her escort gave her a sidelong glance, wondering whether to break into her thoughts. After a pause he said, “Guess who I saw on my drive over here.”

His words jerked her away from introspection. “I don’t know. Who was it?” Perhaps it was Paulson, she thought angrily. Wouldn’t that be just typical when she’d been looking for him all afternoon?

“Susannah Blake,” said Julian. “I recognized her white BMW. And,” he leaned towards her in conspiratorial fashion, “she had a man with her.”

“A man? What did he look like?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him that clearly. But he was certainly occupying a lot of her attention. She came right across the centre of the carriage-way as she turned out onto the Babbacombe Road and I had to take avoiding action. That’s what made me notice the car.”

“That is interesting,” she agreed. “I was absolutely sure that she had someone with her by the swimming pool this afternoon. Perhaps our Susannah is enjoying an assignation while her husband’s away in Munich for the weekend.”

“Who do you think that might be?”

“I don’t know.” Charlotte snorted. “If the woman wants to go out with strange men and doesn’t want to tell me about it, there’s not much I can do, is there? As far as we know she’s not committing any offence. It’s not a police state yet.”

“Of course,” said Julian conversationally, “she may be having a summer holiday fling with a certain chap called Richard Harris who also might just happen to be the same one who did this sort of thing last year with Cynthia Adams - an affair which ended up with that lady getting murdered.”

“Don’t torture me.” Charlotte shuddered and spread her hands wide. “But what can I do? I tried to warn her, but she just clammed up completely. I could tell from the look in her eyes that she knows something about this Richard Harris fellow or his wife. However she obviously didn’t want to talk to me about it. And then I couldn’t get hold of Paulson to try to arrange some sort of surveillance. Unfortunately my word alone means nothing around here at the weekend. Now you tell me Susannah Blake is driving round in the middle of the night with some unknown man - who may be quite safe.” She took a breath. “On the other hand he may be intending to do her a lot of harm.”

“Well,” said her escort, “as you say, there’s nothing you can do about it. Let’s try and forget it and enjoy our meal. I thought you might like a nice little Italian restaurant I know in Totnes. Would that be that all right?”

She turned and smiled at him. “That’ll be lovely. I’m sorry to be such a wet blanket. I’ll try and be better company for the rest of the evening.”

But she didn’t succeed very well. During the meal her conversation was stilted and she was often distracted. At last Julian said to her, “Come on. For goodness sake let’s talk about it. Haven’t you heard the old saying about a trouble shared being a trouble halved.”

“I’ve just got this feeling that I should be doing something,” she said. “How would I feel if Susannah’s dead body was found tomorrow, when I should have done something tonight which might have prevented the tragedy occurring.”

“But what could you do?”

Charlotte shook her head and gazed at him. “I don’t know. That’s why I feel so useless.”

“Well,” he said logically, “let’s try and work out what we should do, just in case you’re right. However before we can do anything to help, we need to know where she is. Will your brilliant computer have any ideas?”

She looked at him and shrugged. “We can but try, I suppose.”

So he paid for the meal and they left for the short drive back to Torquay. It was now dark, with sharp squalls of wind from time to time, and the occasional flurry of rain. “Not a nice night for sailors,” he murmured.

Back at the station, Charlotte signed Julian in as a visitor, and they went straight up to the deserted CID section. He watched with interest as she started the computer going. She showed him briefly how the programme worked and led him through the commands into obtaining a series of questions from the machine.

“Of course, the secret is to make sure you ask the right questions. We need to say, ‘What if so-and-so happens? What are the possible consequences?’” She turned to him. “Do you understand?”

“OK,” said Julian, “let’s ask it ‘What if Richard Harris murdered Cynthia Adams and is now taking out Susannah Blake for the evening?’ What is likely to happen in that situation?”

“Right. Let’s see what the programme makes of that set of coincidences.” Charlotte called up a blank data sheet and started entering information in the appropriate boxes. She went on to a second sheet and finished. She looked up at him. “Can you think of anything else?”

“No,” he agreed. “I think you’ve got it all there.”

“OK.” She pressed the enter key and the machine swallowed the data and started digesting it.

Within a few seconds it had completed its deliberations. A message flashed up on the screen saying, “There are seven possible scenarios listed in numerical order of probability. Enter 1 to 7 to see scenarios.”

Charlotte entered number 1.

The computer screen read:

“Suspect: Richard Harris

Possible victim: Susannah Blake

Motive: Revenge for suicidal death of wife who was a sacked former employee of husband.

Likely method of killing: Induced natural causes - e.g. inducing drowning by holding under water, smothering when asleep (especially after sexual gratification), causing fall from high building or other location, strangulation and hanging to appear as suicide, other similar apparent accident or suicide.”

“Blimey,” interrupted Julian, “who writes this stuff?”

Charlotte turned to him coldly. “I did most of it, if you must know.” She went back to the computer. “Let’s go on to the next screen.”

The second screen read:

“Possible location of murder: Site related to event for which revenge required. Most likely sites - cliffs near Brixham where suspect’s wife committed suicide, beach near Brixham where drowning could be induced, bed at home of victim or at location where suspect has taken victim.

Likely time of murder: If outside - night-time or bad weather when witnesses are unlikely to be around to see murder take place.

If inside - daytime or early evening

Necessary pre-conditions: A degree of trust would have to be established between the suspect and the victim to allow the murder to take place without creating outside suspicion.

Please press ‘Next’ button to go to scenario 2.”

Obediently Charlotte went through each of the other scenarios.

When that had been completed, Julian stood back from the machine. “The first one looks the most obvious scenario to me,” he said. “I can just see that happening tonight. The weather’s pretty foul and there’s a high tide. There won’t be anyone around to watch the dirty deed. All the fellow has to do, is persuade her to go with him to look at the waves breaking against the rocks at the foot of Berry Head. One push and it’s a two hundred-foot drop into the sea. Who knows when the body will be washed up.”

“Well, you know what the place is like.” Charlotte was watching him. “Do you think it could work out like the computer suggests?”

“I certainly do.” He turned to face her and there was sense of urgency in his voice. “Look Charlotte, I think we’ve got to go up there. You said you wanted to do something to prevent this murder taking place. This is the only thing we can do.” He grinned. “After all - I thought you said this bloody machine was brilliant.”

“Well, I believe in it of course. But we’re having to rush into the next stage without constructing a proper back-up to the data.” She shook her head. “Suddenly, I don’t feel confident about using it for something so important.”

He took her arm. “Come on, we’re going to try. It’s no good having the equipment if you don’t use it. If we’re wrong,” he shrugged, “well, nobody but us will know, so we won’t look such a pair of fools.”

“OK,” she nodded. “I guess you’re right. Just let me close down the computer and I’ll be with you”

* * * * * * * *

It was dark and stormy when Richard and Susannah came out of the hotel into the car park. There was no rain yet but the great trees on the hillside above the buildings were writhing and thrashing about in the wind. Whenever a new gust of wind burst upon them, it sounded like an express train roaring down the little valley towards the bay.

“It’s a good thing we put your long mack in the car,” he said. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it when we’re up on Berry Head.”

“Are you sure this is such a good idea, Richard?” she asked doubtfully, worried about going up onto the lonely headland at night in such wild weather. “Won’t it be awfully rough up there?”

He put an arm round her. “That’s the whole point. That’s why I want you to come up there with me and experience something wild and primeval. You have been living such a comfortable life. I want to shake you out of your cosy, upper-middle-class world. I want you to find out what the real world is like.” He gave her a little squeeze. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure that I hang on to you so tightly that you won’t come to any harm.”