The Price of Failure (17 page)

The building society's branch office was halfway along the High Street, in one of the oldest buildings which, thanks to an unusually responsible attitude, had had its exterior repaired but left unaltered and its interior modernized in such a way as not to destroy character.

The middle-aged manager had a quick smile, a firm handshake, and a manner that was straightforward, but often strangely formal.

‘I understand,' Wyatt said, ‘that your predecessor retired at the end of last year.'

‘He retired nearly five years ago.' He studied Wyatt. ‘My answer seems to disturb you?'

‘Only because … Frankly, my inquiry is both difficult and confidential.'

‘So you said at the beginning. Perhaps if I point out that the ability to respect confidences is an integral part of my job?'

‘This is … different.'

‘If you could be more explicit?'

‘Michael Carr has a mortgage with you.'

‘Without checking, I cannot comment, but for the moment I'll accept that.'

‘I need to know whether at the end of last year he was granted a second mortgage for three thousand pounds.'

The manager began to stroke his square chin with his thumb. ‘You have a court order calling on me to divulge the information?'

‘No.'

‘Then you must know I cannot give it without the client's permission.'

‘It takes time to get an order.'

‘That has to be a matter for you, not me.'

‘The information could save someone from being murdered.'

The manager dropped his hand away from his chin. ‘You're not exaggerating?'

‘I wish I were.'

‘And someone may be put in even greater jeopardy if I insist on a court order?'

‘Yes.'

He studied the far wall. He fidgeted with the corner of a sheet of paper on the desk. ‘Very well,' he finally said. ‘If I have your word that what you've told me is fact?'

‘You have it.'

Less than five minutes later, Wyatt learned that Carr had applied for a second mortgage and this had been refused because his house did not hold sufficient value.

*   *   *

The drive to the Hoskins' house had Wyatt questioning his move time and time again; a less stubborn man might well have turned round.

Miranda opened the front door. ‘Hullo, Sergeant Wyatt.'

Virtually every time he met her, he wondered whether Freda was wholly right and Miranda's manner was the result of shyness and not an overwhelming sense of superiority. ‘Is the guv'nor in, Mrs Hoskin?'

‘I'm afraid he isn't at the moment.'

‘When do you expect him back?'

‘Very soon.'

‘Would you mind if I waited for him?'

She hesitated. ‘He is very tired. Couldn't the matter wait until tomorrow?'

‘I'm afraid not.'

‘Then you'd better come in.' As he entered, she said: ‘Don't forget to mind your head.'

‘I won't.'

‘It's turned quite cold, hasn't it? And the forecast said that snow's possible later in the week.'

He ducked under the lintel and entered the sitting room. The two children were watching the television and when she told them to turn it off and go through to the kitchen and watch the set in there, they looked at Wyatt with undisguised resentment as they left. She offered him a drink, poured it, and talked about the social life of the division, asking him for his opinion on the proposed changes in the annual dinner dance. Since she appeared to believe it was popular, he found great difficulty in giving any sort of an opinion. Conversation had become difficult by the time they heard the sound of the front door's being opened and closed.

‘There's Bevis,' she said, not quite concealing her relief.

Hoskin entered. ‘I thought it was your old banger parked outside. My God, but the wind's beginning to get knives in it!'

‘Would you like a drink?' she asked.

‘As I'm not doing any more driving, a really stiff whisky, but I'll get it.'

‘Better make it a small one, Guv,' Wyatt said.

‘Trouble?'

‘Could be. In six foot high capitals.'

‘Then we'll go through to the other room.'

The study was a small, heavily beamed room with a single window. Comfort was the theme, not smart chic. The easy chair had seen hard wear, the desk was an antique only in age, not value, the carpet had several stains, and the curtains were too short. Hoskin sat on the edge of the desk. ‘So what's got you looking like a man who's lost the winning lottery ticket?'

‘It's … it's difficult to know how to begin.'

‘Try at the beginning.'

‘It's possible Mike Carr's been grassing to the mob who've snatched the Lumley girl,' Wyatt said in a rush of words.

‘Have you gone bloody mad?'

‘No.'

‘Shit!… Let's have it, then.'

Hoskin listened without once interrupting, then said, voice harsh: ‘Most of that's supposition or circumstantial.'

‘If you'd seen his expression when he learned Shropshire were asking about MacClearey and again when I told him Morrell had been tortured and murdered.'

‘It obviously didn't say anything to you at the time and it's only now when you find either occasion significant. Damnit, you know as well as me that expressions can be the biggest liars out.'

‘He was desperate to find some way of affording to move Gloria.'

‘Who wouldn't have been?'

‘Where did the money come from?'

‘Have you asked him?'

‘I've only now confirmed the fact that he didn't obtain a second mortgage, as he's told everyone, including his wife.'

‘Then you're quick to slag the man!'

‘The facts…'

‘You're saying that an officer who's proved himself to be keen, efficient, intelligent, and straight, suddenly decides to turn crook; that knowing what the mob did to Victoria Arkwright, he nevertheless is ready to work with them.'

‘I know him well enough to be certain it can't have been voluntarily.'

‘Goddamnit, you've been saying just that.'

‘What I mean, sir, is that he'd never have intended things. But once he couldn't avoid working for them for whatever reason, he used the money they paid to help Gloria.'

‘In other words, the mob had something on him and used this to force him to grass. What's that something?'

‘I don't know.'

‘There's a sight more you don't know than that you do.'

‘Surely there is one certainty? If he's been working with the mob, he should be able to provide a lead?'

‘Which you imagine he'll willingly pass on after making a full confession because of delayed conscience?'

‘It could happen.'

‘Only in once-upon-a-time land … Use that phone there to ring him and tell him to get to the station now.'

24

Carr replaced the receiver. Something big might have occurred that had nothing to do with the kidnapping; something big might have occurred that was connected to the kidnapping, but in no way directly involved him; but he sensed with icy fear that he was under suspicion.

‘Who was it?' Gloria called from the kitchen.

‘I've got to get back to the station.'

‘Now?'

‘'Fraid so.'

She appeared in the doorway. ‘But you haven't been back half an hour.'

He shrugged his shoulders.

‘Is something wrong?'

‘Why d'you ask?'

‘You look as if … Well, as if something worrying has happened.'

‘It has. My supper's going to be delayed.'

‘That really is all?'

‘May I be turned from a handsome prince into a frog if I'm lying.'

She smiled. ‘You're getting ideas above your appearance.' Then, her smile gone, she said: ‘You promise me nothing's happened?'

Before he could answer, there was a wail through the loudspeaker in the kitchen that sent her hurrying upstairs. For once he was grateful for a son with powerful lungs.

He drove to the end of the road, turned right, right again at the T-junction, and drew up by a call box. He'd known too many cases where well-laid plans had gone astray through unforeseen circumstances not to have worked out an emergency plan. He inserted a call card, dialled. His mother answered. He sympathized with her latest aches and pains and the neighbours who would keep shouting, promised the family would be up to see her very soon, said: ‘Mum, d'you remember me asking you a little while back to support me if that became neessary?'

‘Naturally I do.'

‘Also that I told you how you could help?'

‘I may never see sixty again, but I'm not quite in my dotage yet.'

‘Of course you're not. Then it's to say you lent me the three thousand.'

‘Very well, dear. And who'll be asking me?'

‘Detective Inspector Hoskin.'

‘I met him at one of your parties. Rather a nice man, isn't he?'

‘Part of the time.'

A couple of minutes later, he said goodbye and rang off. She had shown no curiosity. A loving mother, she believed in him implicitly, and would never doubt him. Which showed how wrong loving mothers could be.

In the station, he parked alongside the DI's Mondeo. The DI was sharp, but fair and because he offered those under him the same degree of loyalty he expected them to show, he would be very reluctant to believe one of his DCs had turned crook. So play on that reluctance …

He took the lift up to the fourth floor, conscious of rising tension and fear. He believed he had covered himself, but didn't every criminal think that before he was arrested.

Hoskin sat behind his desk, Wyatt stood by the window. The desk light had the effect of drawing shadows on the DI's face which highlighted the harshness of some of his features. ‘Sit down.'

Carr sat on the chair in front of the desk.

‘You know why you're here, of course.'

First rule of interrogation. Make the suspect believe you know more than you do; first defence of the suspect, admit nothing. ‘On the contrary, sir, I have no idea.'

‘Come on, don't waste my time.'

‘If it isn't impertinent, I'd like to ask if perhaps you aren't wasting the time of both of us?'

That annoyed Hoskin, but also elicited very brief, professional respect.

‘Very well. Did you request British Telecom to instal a Caller Display and an alert unit at your home?'

‘To be precise, I asked them to take whatever steps were necessary to trace certain incoming calls and they decided on the equipment.'

‘Did you make out the usual requisition note?'

‘Of course.'

‘In whose name?'

‘Yours, sir.'

‘In whose name did you sign it?'

‘Yours, sir.'

‘An act of forgery, since I know nothing about the request.'

‘In theory, I suppose it could be called that. But it's not so long ago I told you a similar authorization needed your signature and you said to sign it in your name because you were busy and the form would only be filed along with all the others no one ever read.'

‘Why did you want your calls monitored?'

‘To find out if their place of origin would help determine who was making them.'

‘This is in connection with what?'

‘As yet, no definite case. The caller is a man who refuses to identify himself, but is offering to grass heavy.'

‘Sergeant Wyatt says you have not logged anything.'

‘There seemed no point in doing so until I became reasonably certain that the caller is genuine and not trying to moonshine me. I'm still undetermined.'

‘He also says you failed to log the fact that you had been given a possible lead on the Arkwright kidnapping.'

‘Presumably, you're referring to the fact that I was given word two newcomers to the patch had been talking about MacClearey. Initially, that name meant nothing to me. However, after learning the facts from Sergeant Grant, I got back on to my source and told him to find the couple and listen in, but he's not seen them again. There just didn't seem to be anything to log.'

‘Sergeant Grant asked you to get back on to him; you didn't.'

‘Get back if I learned anything more.'

‘Sergeant Wyatt says that when you heard that the MacClearey household might be the target for a second kidnapping, you were horrified.'

‘Naturally.'

‘I should have thought that the immediate reaction of any officer would be excitement, since this raised the possibility of gaining a lead on the kidnappers.'

‘My horror of any repetition of the suffering of Victoria Arkwright momentarily outweighed my excitement at the possibility of fingering the villains.'

‘At the end of last year, your wife was in hospital, suffering from a form of eclampsia and an accompanying deep depression.'

‘I fail to see that that can have the slightest relevancy.'

‘And her depression became so severe that there were fears for the safety not only of the child but of her. Unfortunately, the doctors decided that because of the child, they could not treat her with sufficiently strong antidepressants. Is that correct?'

‘Yes.'

‘And you believed that the only feasible solution was to move her to a private nursing home?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did you ask the building society with whom you had the original mortgage for a second mortgage?'

‘Yes.'

‘And did they grant it to you?'

‘The manager explained that the rules of the building society would not allow him to lend me any more in view of the drop in property values, even though he very much wished that because of the special circumstances, he could.'

‘Am I right in understanding that despite this fact, you told your wife the building society had granted you a second mortgage and it was this that would pay for the nursing home?'