The Eighth Witch (8 page)

“There’s an awful lot to go through,” she said.

Carter turned to Annie. “Annie, could you take Holly to the hospital now?”

“What about you?”

“I think I’m going to have my work cut out for me going through that lot. I’ll stay here and make a start. Take my car.”

“No problem,” she said.

Carter crouched down next to Holly, reached inside the safe for the laptop but recoiled as soon as his fingers brushed against the silver plastic casing. It was hot and his fingers tingled as the skin started to redden. Suddenly smoke spiraled up from the stack of files and the entire contents of the safe burst into flames. Carter swore and pushed Holly to one side, away from the flames. He tried to grab the computer but the heat was too intense. He could only watch helplessly as Norton’s research burned.

As smoke billowed out of the safe there was a hissing sound behind him. Holly was on her feet and had grabbed a small fire extinguisher from the wall. She was aiming the spray at the flames but missing most of them. Annie tossed a damp cloth across to Carter. “The laptop,” she said. “Get the laptop.”

After wrapping the cloth around his hand, Carter reached into the safe again, grabbed the computer and pulled it from the inferno. The plastic had softened and buckled slightly. He hoped the damage was only cosmetic.

It seemed to take an age for the extinguisher to take effect. Eventually the flames guttered and died, but all that was left in their wake was a pile of sodden, smoldering ash. The interior of the boat was filled with choking, acrid smoke. Annie and Holly went round opening windows to let it out and to let in some fresh air.

When they could breathe easier Annie said, “So what caused that?”

Carter shrugged. “No idea. But I think it’s clear that one of Henry’s theories has come a little too close to the truth. Someone is trying to silence him and bury—or in this case cremate—the evidence.”

“Is there anything left?” Holly said.

Carter peered into the safe. “Very little.” The fire may not have burned for long, but it burned long enough to almost totally destroy everything. “Holly, do you have a blank CD or a memory stick?”

“I think so. Why?”

“The laptop. I don’t know how much damage has been done, so I might need to back-up some files quickly.”

“Give me a moment.” She went down to the end of the boat and started opening and searching drawers in the metal cabinets positioned under her drawing board. “Found it,” she muttered at last and handed a memory stick to Carter.

Carter set the laptop down on the bunk, lifted the lid and switched it on. After a few moments the screen glowed into life. “It seems to be working okay.”

A few seconds later a window opened in the center of the screen, asking for his password.

“Do you have any idea what Henry’s password is?” Carter asked Holly.

She shrugged. “No idea. Sorry.”

“I told you he was a secretive man,” Annie said.

“I thought that as Holly knows the combination to the safe she might know the password.”

“No,” Holly said. “Henry didn’t tell me the combination. I just happened to be watching him setting it up when he installed the safe and I guess it just stuck. If he’d realized I knew it, he would have changed it.”

“Shame about the password though. Any thoughts, guesses?”

“Sorry.”

Carter switched the computer off and shut the lid. “Not to worry. I know a guy over in Rochdale. He’s done computer work for me before. He may be able to crack it. I’ll give him a call.” He pulled out his mobile phone and started to punch in a number. “Annie, if you can take Holly to the hospital in your car, I’ll drive over to see him.” Carter smiled. “Ollie Tucker is a self-confessed geek. Computers are his life. To him, solving a problem like this is like doing a crossword over breakfast. He loves it.”

He tapped in the last number on his mobile and waited. After a long pause the phone at the other end was picked up. A sleepy voice said, “Hello.”

“Ollie, it’s Rob Carter. How are you fixed to do me a favor?”

“Rob, good to hear from you. I’ve just crawled out of my pit. I was up ’til five this morning.”

“Working?”

“Gaming. What’s the favor?”

“I have a laptop I can’t get into. I don’t know the password.”

“Is it yours?”

“No.”

“Naughty.”

“It belongs to a friend of mine. He’s been hospitalized and the laptop may hold the answer as to who put him there.”

“I see. PC or Mac?”

“PC.”

“Windows or Linux?”

“Windows Vista.”

“Then it’s a piece of piss. I have a program to crack the password. Takes all of five minutes. I’ll send it to you on a disc.”

“I was hoping I could bring the computer over to you.”

“Are you at home?”

“No, I’m in Yorkshire.”

“Okay, bring it over. I’ll have the place cleaned up before you get here.”

“Don’t trouble on my account,” Carter said.

“Oh, I think I should,” Ollie said. “I had friends round last night for the game. Pizza boxes and beer bottles everywhere. The place is a shit hole. Catch you later.” He rang off.

“He’s agreed to help,” Carter said.

“I’ll take Holly to the hospital then,” Annie said. “Once you get into the computer perhaps you’ll call me to tell me what you find.”

“Sure,” Carter said.
 

The boat rocked slightly as if someone had climbed aboard. It was followed shortly by a knock at the door.

Holly went to answer it.

When Lacey and Sparks came through the door neither Carter nor Annie were that surprised.

“Has someone been having a bonfire in here?” Lacey said, sniffing the air.

“See for yourself,” Carter said and indicated the ruined contents of the safe.

“Why did you set fire to it?”

“It was an accident,” Holly said quickly.

“Some accident. How did it happen?”

“It was really stupid. I was smoking while I was looking for some papers and must have left the cigarette smoldering on the edge of the safe. Suddenly, whoosh! The whole lot went up.”

Lacey eyed her skeptically. “Careless,” he said. “I take it you’re Holly Ireland.”

She nodded.

“And I also take it these people have told you the news about Professor Norton?”

“We put her in the picture,” Carter said.

“We’d like to ask you some questions, Ms. Ireland.”

“Would you mind if I come along to the station later? I was about to go to the hospital to see Henry.”

“This won’t take long,” Lacey said, pulling up a chair and settling his large frame into it, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. He looked from Annie to Carter. “Don’t let us keep you.”
 

“I was going to take Holly to the hospital,” Annie said.

“You still can. We’ll only be fifteen minutes or so, if you wouldn’t mind coming back.”

Carter tucked the laptop under his arm. “Yes, well, I have to get off.”

“Is that your computer, Ms. Ireland?” Lacey said, noticing the fire-buckled plastic case.

“No it’s Hen…” She stopped herself, but too late.

Amusement glimmered in Lacey’s eyes. “The laptop, Sergeant,” he said.

Sparks stepped forwards, effectively blocking Carter’s path. “If you wouldn’t mind, sir?” he said, holding out his hand.

“Yes I would,” Carter said and tried to move past the detective.

Lacey sighed. “Don’t be difficult, Mr. Carter. The computer was Professor Norton’s. It might contain important clues that could lead to his attacker, so hand it over, there’s a good chap.”

“I don’t wish to pull rank, Inspector, but if I have to…” He reached into his jacket pocket, produced his Department 18 ID card and passed it to Lacey. Ian Lacey flicked his gaze over the laminated card, looked hard at Carter and then passed the card to Sparks.
 

The sergeant read the card carefully. “What is Department 18?”

“Government Spook Squad. And we’re not talking spies here, are we, sir?”

“No, Inspector, we’re not,” Carter said.

Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “Are you here officially?”

“At the moment I’m just looking into things. I’m actually on leave…but I can make it official with one phone call.”

Lacey pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “My chief constable knows your boss. Crozier, isn’t it? They’ve played golf together.”

“Simon Crozier, yes. What has that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing at all, really. It’s just that I could make a phone call too. I’m sure Simon Crozier wouldn’t approve of one of his operatives obstructing police business.”

“I’m not interested in obstructing your investigation, Inspector. The computer’s password protected. I’m taking it to someone I know to get the password cracked. Once I’m in I’ll go through Norton’s files, and anything I think will help your investigation I’ll pass on to you.”

“I’d prefer it if you’d just hand over the computer once you’re finished with it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Sir?” Sparks said. “You’re not letting him take it?”

“It would appear that I am,” Lacey said.

Sparks was glaring at Carter, a mixture of incredulity and anger in his eyes.

“Oh, simmer down, Matt,” Lacey said. “You’ll give yourself an ulcer.”

“But, sir…”

“We’re on the same side, Sergeant. I trust Mr. Carter here to do the right thing.” He turned to Carter. “You will do the right thing, won’t you?”

“Of course. Where can I reach you?”

Lacey dipped into his pocket and pulled out a card. “That’s my direct line. I don’t know if I’ll be here or back in Bradford, so call that and you’ll be patched through.”

Carter turned to Annie. “I’ll ring you.”

“Later, Rob.” She turned to Holly. “I’m going to pick up my car. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, and then I’ll take you to see Henry.”

Holly smiled at her gratefully.

Once they were alone Lacey sat forwards in his seat and rested his hands on his knees. “Perhaps we can start with you telling me about last night,” he said to Holly.

Chapter Nine

Ollie Tucker had never been keen on housework and today was no different. He lived in a small flat situated at the very top of Cavendish House, a run-down block on the outskirts of Rochdale. The block was built in the 1960’s when vertical living had been the architects’ dream. Now the dream was devalued, a graffiti-daubed nightmare that had destroyed local communities and ruined neighborhoods. The lifts smelled of urine and the majority of the windows were filmed with grime and grease. Many of the residents had moved out, leaving their vacated properties vulnerable to squatters. Other doors had been boarded up and secured with iron grilles and padlocks designed to keep the squatters out.
 

Ollie Tucker was oblivious to his surroundings. In his flat living space was at a premium. In the lounge there were a few tatty items of furniture, a TV connected to a games console and a 1950’s jukebox jostling for space with ten computers and various pieces of hardware. He cast a cursory glance around the place. He gathered up and binned the empty beer bottles and pizza debris, threw a moth-eaten blanket over his unmade bed and then went back to his computer screen.
 

He was still there when Carter rang his doorbell an hour later. Tucker was five feet eight and weighed close to three hundred pounds. His long, thinning, gray hair was scraped back from his stubbled face and held in a straggly ponytail by an elastic band. He covered his bulk with baggy khaki shorts and a very loose-fitting Jethro Tull T-shirt that bore the legend
Roots to Branches Tour 1996
. The T-shirt was faded and marked with cigarette burns and curry stains.
 

“You shouldn’t have dressed up just because I was coming,” Carter said with a smile as Ollie Tucker let him in.

“One has to make an effort,” Tucker said. “Welcome to the penthouse.” He eyed the computer tucked under Carter’s arm. “Is that it?”

“That’s it,” Carter said, handing it to him.

Tucker took it gingerly, noticing the buckled casing and the scorch marks on the plastic. “Barbecued laptop. Nice. What the hell have you done to it?” He sounded affronted, as if the damage to the computer was a personal insult.

“I rescued it from a fire,” Carter said. “But from what I can tell it still works.”

Tucker cleared a space on a cluttered dining table and set it down, opening the lid gently and stroking his finger over the On button. As the computer whirred into life he glanced over his shoulder at Carter. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself. I take mine black with three sugars.” He pulled an office chair over from the corner of the room and settled his bulk into it.

Carter went through to the kitchen and began the search for clean mugs. Finding none, he unearthed two from a pile of dirty crockery and rinsed them under scalding hot water. When he returned to the living room he found Tucker tapping keys and bringing up menus on the screen.