The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖

business, I’m loath to do it, but I think we need to pay them some attention.’

‘My thoughts all along.’

‘Thought we might ask Gibbons in, see what he thinks.’

‘Doubt he’ll say a word.’

‘We don’t need him to say anything,’ and he winked at her and picked up the phone and dialled Darren’s extension.

‘Supercop!’ said Gibbons, expecting it to be the switchboard girl.

‘Yes well, thank you for that, Gibbons; would the supercop care to join us, room four.’

‘Sorry, Guv, be with you in a tick.’

Karen budged over and set out another chair close to the desk. Gibbons knocked, Walter yelled him in, and in the next moment he was seated around the desk, wondering what was going down.

Walter said, ‘We need to look more closely into the affairs at the Lodge, we need to look at any big loans that came Gerry Swaythling’s way; who they came from, and on what terms.’

Gibbons shifted uneasily in his seat.

‘Can’t talk about that, Guv, you know how it is, sworn to secrecy, and all that.’

‘One man has been murdered,’ said Karen, ‘and another is in the crosshairs; you can’t ignore that, Gibbo.’

‘I know that! But I am not involved, and I can’t say anything about it.’

Walter leant across the desk.

‘I don’t want you to say anything about it, Gibbons; I don’t want you to betray any solemn oaths into which you may have entered.’

‘Thanks Guv; knew you’d understand.’

‘I don’t want you to utter a single word, and I won’t ask you anything about the Lodge. I just want you to give us an indication, say strum your fingers on the desk, to one simple question. You don’t need to speak, you don’t even need to think about it, no one will ever know.’

‘I don’t know about that, Guv.’

‘This is important, Darren, for you, for us, and for Neil Swaythling. Think very carefully about it,’ and Walter stared into the suddenly vulnerable young man’s eyes.

Gibbons stared back, didn’t say a thing, didn’t blink; didn’t move a muscle.

Walter paused as if thinking of his question and then said, ‘Are we wasting our time, or do we need to look further into Swaythling’s financial affairs?’

They both stared at Gibbons, glanced down at his hand on the desk. It didn’t move, not a flicker, muscular arm, big firm hand, rock solid, neatly clipped and clean fingernails, fingers still. Walter sighed, said nothing; still looked. The middle finger, right hand, flipped up and down in an instant, just the once. If you hadn’t been concentrating you’d have missed it. Nothing else. Gibbons turned and glanced out of the window. Sat perfectly still. Then he said, ‘Is that everything, Guv?’

‘It is, thank you, Darren, you can get off now.’

Gibbons jumped up and shot outside.

‘What did you make of that?’ asked Karen.

‘Definite affirmative, I’d say.’

‘Not a nervous twitch?’

‘Nah! No chance. Does he look like a man with a nervous disposition?’

He didn’t. Karen shook her head.

‘The local Lodge meets at 8pm on Tuesday,’ said Walter.

‘How the hell do you know that?’

‘I overheard two traffic guys talking about it in the bog. They shut up like nervous clams when I came bumbling out of the stalls to wash my hands.’

Karen couldn’t stifle a laugh.

Walter was talking again. ‘You know that friendly fire solicitor?’

‘Which one?’

‘Wilkes and Partners.’

‘What about them?’

‘Their office just happens to overlook the Lodge.’

‘So?’

‘I thought you could go down there and sweet talk Mister Wilkes into letting us use his premises to monitor who goes in and who comes out, on Lodge night. You don’t need to tell him that, just say we are monitoring street violence at night, something like that. We’ll have to send a couple of the rookies down there to do it, otherwise he might get suspicious.’

‘What if he’s a Mason?’

‘He isn’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He’s Jewish.’

‘And Jews are not admitted either?’

‘Not often.’

‘Wilkes doesn’t sound like a Jewish name to me.’

‘It isn’t. The family name was Wilkenberg; they came from Germany, years ago, long before the Nazi scum oozed from the slime. Around 1900 I think.’

‘Why did they change their name?’

‘Expediency. It’s a common thing, immigrants fiddling with their names to fit in with the locals, been going on for centuries. Muller becomes Miller, Rainsberg become Rainsbury, that kind of thing. You don’t think those guys living in Buckingham Palace were always called Windsor, do you?’

Karen giggled, then pulled a thoughtful face and said, ‘Don’t tell me, your name isn’t really Darriteau?’

‘Oh, shut up!’

‘When do you want me to go and see Wilkes?’

‘No time like the present, Sergeant, and take Jenny with you, Mr Wilkes likes the ladies. I’d have gone myself otherwise.’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘Retentive memory, all good policemen have a retentive memory.’

‘And women, Guv, and women.’

‘Yeah, that too, I’ll see you later.’

AFTER SHE’D GONE HE went and had a chat with Mrs West. Fixed up for Gibbons to attend a five day course on dealing with hostage situations, it was a local thing up at Bromborough, and it started the next day, he didn’t even have to leave home, and it would get him out of the way, just in case DC Darren Gibbons was the mole.

Gibbons wasn’t best pleased about it, thought he smelt a rat, but Mrs West insisted it was something he must do, and ten minutes after that he was on his way home to get ready to listen to five dull days of hostage speak.

KAREN CAME BACK AN hour later and called Walter into a private room.

‘We’re in luck.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘The room that’s overlooking the street has a great view across the road to the Lodge entrance and it’s being redecorated, the room that is, they haven’t started yet, but all the furniture has been taken out. It’s perfect.’

‘And Mister Wilkes?’

‘Sent his regards, said we could have it for the week.’

‘We only need it for the one night.’

‘Told him that, he seemed happy enough.’

‘Do you think he knew what we are after?’

‘He’d have to be pretty thick if he didn’t.’

‘I don’t care what he thinks, so long as