French Leave (22 page)

It was something he had done with ease from his teens, but it would take a deal of strength to drag his greased hips free of the tight chain, and he was presently not at peak fitness. Last night he had vomited several times, and he was burning as if with a fever. He added a swift rider to his thanks to the Almighty, asking for an injection of strength when his deliverance depended on it.

Those louts who had left him here after slapping him around, stealing the gold watch that meant a lot to him along with his only means of summoning help, would pay for what they had done. They might all have been wearing crash helmets that exposed only their eyes, but he had taken note of their number plates and had been repeating the digits constantly to ensure he did not forget them. They would think twice before tangling with a soldier again.

It was quiet in the Incident Room after the briefing. Because Heather had two teenage brothers, she had been given the task of investigating the sixth-formers' club, on the pretext of buying something for the birthday of one of them. Connie was absorbed in tracing Carr's school in the Acton area, and where he had worked on leaving it until he had enlisted. Beeny was talking to staff at Wellington College and Sandhurst about Dan Farley. Tom was going through that officer's personal effects and checking data on the computer in his room, with Will Fanshawe as a witness. Although it seemed unlikely, there could be evidence that Farley was a member of some seditious group or malicious secret society; hence his sudden disappearance.

Piercey had volunteered to compile information on Jake Morgan, Scott Pinner, Tim Jackson and Zoe Rogers, because he saw an opportunity to earn kudos if his suspicions proved correct. He soon understood why Jake was boss of this venture: he was the only one whose father was an officer. Cliff Pinner and Simon Jackson were corporals. Malcolm Rogers was a sergeant. Piercey's enthusiasm increased on discovering that Rogers's quarters were next to Miller's, which meant Zoe could well have been a bosom friend of the girl who was in hospital after falling from a bridge. Piercey had a score to settle with Eric Miller.

The moment Tom had mentioned Zoe Rogers, Piercey had recalled a girl with scarlet hair who was frightened of storms. She had said her father would soon be posted to the UK: Malcolm Rogers was listed for deployment to Lincoln in the new year. Zoe was involved with a trio selling CDs. Her bag had been chock-full of them in that restaurant. Time to renew her acquaintance.

Piercey parked where he had a clear view of the Rogerses' house, and fifty yards down the road in the direction the girl would take to walk to Jake's club. He was happy enough to sit in the sun with the windows open and music playing. Zoe was sure to appear sooner or later, and it was better than sitting in the stuffy atmosphere at Headquarters. He swore the air conditioning system had not operated fully since that storm.

Shortly after ten o'clock the girl with the bizarrely-dyed hair came from the house and began walking towards him. He immediately turned the CD player to full volume, which brought the intended reaction. Zoe's attention was first caught by the blare of music; then she stared at the man who smiled and waved to her.

‘That's right, sweetie, come over to make sure your eyes aren't deceiving you,' he murmured, giving her the full optical come-on as she crossed the road to his car. When she was near enough, he went into the next phase of his tactic.

‘Hi, Zoe! No storms around today. No excuse to hold your hand.'

She looked puzzled. ‘Phil? What are you doing here?'

He gave his girl-pulling grin. ‘Looking for Zoe with the scarlet tresses.'

‘Oh yeah?' she returned caustically. ‘How would you know how to find me? I didn't give you my address or mobile number.'

‘You told me your dad was soon to be posted back to the UK.' He tapped his temple. ‘Put two and two together and reasoned that you're an Army brat.'

‘And?'

She had more fire now than ten days ago in that café. A smart cookie, he decided. ‘
And
I wanted to see you again.'

Still visibly unimpressed by his line, Zoe bent to rest her elbow on the door frame, put her chin in her hand and gave him a provocative gaze from heavily outlined eyes, along with a generous view of her luscious cleavage.

‘What about those deals you had to clinch? Places to go, people to see, you claimed as you beat a pathetically obvious retreat.'

Yes, a
very
smart cookie. He continued to play the game. ‘Ah, Zoe, you have no idea how much it warms my heart to know you remember every word I said during that dramatic first encounter with you.'

She straightened abruptly. ‘Where'd you get that corny spiel? From TV?'

He laughed. ‘You were doing such a great act as a raunchy drama student, I had to reciprocate. Has RADA accepted your application yet?'

She shook her head absently. ‘What
are
you doing here?'

‘It's quite a story. Come and sit beside me while I tell it.' At her hesitation, he added, ‘You can hold the ignition key if you don't trust me the same way you did during that storm.'

She held out her hand and, with a shrug, he pulled out the key and gave it to her. ‘Wise girl. Never get in a car with a man you don't know much about.' He produced his identity card and held it out for her to see. ‘You're perfectly safe with me, Zoe.'

‘SIB!' she exclaimed. ‘You liar! You said you were a rep.'

‘I was on an undercover job,' he lied smoothly. ‘I had to leave abruptly because the guy I was watching made a dash from that café.'

It did the trick. She was on the seat beside him in a flash, demanding to know the full story. Never short of ideas he wove a tale guaranteed to appeal to a girl of her histrionic bent, which banished any remaining wariness on her part. How easily a practiced sexual predator could con his victim, he reflected.

Taking one of his usual bags of marshmallows from the glove compartment, he offered it. ‘That's enough about me, Zoe. You really are going to train as an actress?'

She nodded. ‘If RADA turns me down, I'll do it the other way.'

‘Oh, what's that?'

‘My boyfriend Jake has already been accepted by the National Youth Theatre to study lighting and sound. He's brill. Once he gets to know who's around and who else
they
know, he'll fix me up with an interview with the guy who's a drama coach. He'll swing it, I know he will. Jake has everything sussed.'

‘Smart guy!' Piercey offered the marshmallows again. ‘Tell the truth, I had you clocked as a singer. Jazzy hair, gorgeous, expressive eyes, sexy pazazz. Could just picture you wowing them with a really cool backing group.' Busying himself with returning the bag of sweets to the glove compartment, he said casually, ‘Saw you had a bagful of brand new CDs. Thought you were learning some tricks of the trade. Wondered if you even had a couple of your own demo tracks for auditions among them. They'll do that for you at The Jumping Bean on Rathausstrasse, you know.'

Completely won over by this opportunity to talk about herself, Zoe confessed that she had considered becoming a pop star. ‘But I love acting more than singing, Phil. I might do musicals once I've tired of the dramatic roles. That'll be the time to make the switch. Like Meryl Streep.'

In your dreams, thought Piercey. ‘So you'd bought all those CDs just for listening pleasure?'

‘Mmm?' she queried, loath to leave the romance she was weaving. ‘No, they were for J.S. A friend.'

‘Not the one who went off leaving no address, I hope. You were very sad and upset over what he'd done, if you remember. I asked if he was your boyfriend, and you said he was just someone who made life more exciting.'

Zoe frowned. ‘Did I? That was two weeks ago. I've forgotten him.'

‘Jake makes life exciting now?'

‘He's
brill
,' she said dramatically.

‘So I don't stand a chance?'

The actress in her could not resist the despondency in his voice. ‘I didn't say that. If you're around after Jake goes home, who knows?'

‘Not free this afternoon, I suppose?'

‘Uh-uh, I'm going to Jake's.'

He looked suitably dashed. ‘Can I at least drive you there?'

‘OK.' She held out the ignition key. ‘You'd better drop me before we get to his house.' Eyelashes fluttered. ‘Can't have him getting jealous, can we?'

Piercey took the long way around the perimeter road, keeping to the low speed limit. ‘Of course, you must have been involved in the real-life drama next door to you. Girl who fell in the river and hit her head. Friend of yours?'

She turned to him, eyes flashing. ‘Silly bitch! Ruined everything, Jake says.'

‘Almost ruined her future, Zoe.'

‘Yes, well . . . Sharon's always showing off, you know, and only a dimmo would try walking along a narrow wall when they're pissed. Jake says that's why J.S. jacked it in. He was totally gone on her until he saw what she was really like.'

‘The friend who made life exciting?'

The fact that she was talking to a detective sergeant had clearly flitted through her butterfly mind and straight out again, because she was eagerly dramatizing once more.

‘Yes, but
he
wasn't. Can't think what Sharon saw in him, but she was desperate for a man.
Any
man. He tried it on with me, you know. But
yuk
!' She gazed into her artificial world. ‘I suppose he must also have been desperate, to want to go with Sharon.' Turning to him with a smug smile, she added, ‘Soon saw the light, didn't he?'

‘And faded out of the picture?'

‘Daft twit went AWOL, just when we had something good . . .' She broke off and her colour rose. ‘You can let me out here. I'll walk the rest.'

‘Daren't make Jake jealous, eh?' he commented with a reassuring smile. ‘Great to see you again, Zoe. Maybe when Jake leaves we could get together sometime,' he added, to banish any suspicion she might have that he had heard anything interesting in her gossip.

‘Yeah, maybe.' She slid from the car, then poked her head back in to add, ‘If there's a storm, I'll come alookin' for you. Cheers.'

Continuing around the perimeter, still at the correct speed, Piercey inwardly rejoiced. She had given him just what he wanted: the link between Carr and Jake's club. The additional link between Carr and Sharon Miller needed to be investigated. One aspect of her guileless information puzzled him. Why had she said the CDs in her bag were
for
J.S. rather than
from
him, for surely Jake and Co. were selling the stuff Jack Carr had acquired by the same method as he had the DVDs in his locker?

Max was choosing shirts in a Knightsbridge store when Tom called. Conscious of impatient scowls from elderly female shoppers at this further evidence of people who could not even buy clothes without having a mobile phone clamped to their ear, he left the shirts and walked out to the emergency stairs.

‘Not about to board, are you?' Tom asked.

‘Haven't even set out for Heathrow.'

‘Good. We've just had info come in from Sussex police at Lewes. Two sightings of a biker taking on his pillion a young, dark-haired man with a blue holdall. Reports vary between two and three miles from the village centre on the Lewes Road.'

‘Not a terrorist situation, then,' Max said with relief. ‘So where the hell has Farley gone?'

‘Not far, if witnesses are to be believed,' came Tom's clipped rejoinder. ‘Several drinkers saw, from the windows of the White Ram, a group of four bikers heading for Lewes at around that time. They wore leathers decorated with a startling orange and white design. The lone biker was described as wearing similar gear, but none of the group of four carried a passenger. Seems they looked set to enter the pub for some kind of celebration, but then decided to move on, much to the relief of the landlord and customers.'

‘So what are the Lewes guys saying?' Max asked urgently.

‘They're saying their force is presently tied up with a missing schoolgirl and a double mugging on Worthing beach when both victims were stabbed. RMP involvement in the Farley case would be welcomed.'

Max gave a grim smile. ‘You bet it would! Tom, I'll head down there now. I drove the length of that Lewes road. There are a number of narrow tracks leading to farms, and an area of woodland which borders the tarmac. If there's a guy out there mugging at knifepoint, and ready to use his weapon, Farley could have been a plum target walking that country road. Plenty of places to dump a body.'

‘Make sure it isn't yours.'

‘I'll call with any info. Thanks, Tom.'

Max disconnected and went quickly to where he had left the car at a vacant meter a few roads away. Still smarting from the spat with Livya, and the unexpressed suggestion that her work was of greater importance than his, he embarked eagerly on the journey south. There was no proof that the biker who had taken Farley on the pillion was one of the four seen by patrons of the White Ram, nor was there any evidence to suggest he was the violent mugger, but Max was convinced something had happened to Farley on that road to Lewes. He had sensed it when he had driven up from the kennels on Monday, but surely there was now enough information to make an investigation necessary?

Farley had been missing for three days. Max's experienced judgement of human characters told him the young officer had not stayed beyond his official leave voluntarily. That meant something or someone was preventing him from making contact. A mugging resulting in GBH would provide answers to those suppositions. If Farley had been lying hidden for three days, Max knew he could well be too late on the scene.