Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(14)

During the past few weeks, he’d also done a couple of jobs for Mrs Christina Faulkner, and wondered if Booth Watson might consider that a conflict of interest. After he’d checked his bank balance, he decided not to mention his double-dating to either party. Lamont made sure he was sitting in the waiting room of No. 1 Fetter Court at ten to ten the following morning. He was kept waiting.

When the Head of Chambers eventually called for him, he didn’t mention Summers or the key piece of evidence Lamont should have switched, but got straight to the point.

‘I need to know what your old friend Warwick is up to at the moment.’

‘Warwick’s no friend of mine,’ said Lamont, almost spitting out the words.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ said Booth Watson. ‘In which case it should make your task even more enjoyable. I can tell you that the Inspector and his wife are currently sailing first class to New York aboard the Alden.’

‘A holiday that must have been paid for by his father, because he certainly couldn’t afford to travel first class on a Chief Inspector’s salary.’

Booth Watson knew exactly who had paid for the trip, but satisfied himself with repeating the words, ‘Chief Inspector?’

‘Warwick was promoted following the success of the Summers trial,’ said Lamont, who immediately regretted the word ‘success’, as it produced a scowl on his paymaster’s lips.

‘Can you tell me anything about this new squad he’s heading up?’

‘Unit,’ said Lamont.

The scowl returned; Booth Watson didn’t like to be corrected, even by a judge.

Lamont ploughed on. ‘Warwick has four officers under his command. DS Paul Adaja, who isn’t one of us, DS Jackie Roycroft, she’s already on my payroll, and DC Rebecca Pankhurst, who’s still wet behind the ears. They’ll be joined by DI Ross Hogan, but not before Warwick returns from his holiday.’

‘I don’t know Hogan,’ said Booth Watson. ‘What can you tell me about him?’

‘Tough, resilient, but a bit of a maverick, who’s not averse to taking the occasional risk. He’s been working undercover for the past three years, but Hawksby must have decided to bring him in from the cold.’

‘Why?’ demanded Booth Watson.

‘Needed to bolster the team with a little sharp-end experience would be my bet. So we’ll need to keep an eye on him because maverick he may be, but his loyalty to Hawksby is not in question.’

Booth Watson took his time before asking his next question. ‘Do you think Hogan could be tempted into an indiscretion?’

‘Never. If that man found a wallet on the London Underground stuffed with fifty-pound notes, he’d hand it in to the nearest police station and not expect a reward.’

‘Money may well be the root of all evil, Superintendent, but it’s not the only sin Moses found etched on the tablet he brought down from Mount Sinai.’

Lamont thought for some time before he responded. ‘Hogan’s had on-off relationships with several female officers in the past, and even with a suspect on one occasion, for which he was temporarily suspended. His latest conquest is DS Roycroft, but I’m pretty sure that’s coming to an end.’

‘So, if we could find the right Eve,’ said Booth Watson, ‘he might be tempted to bite the apple.’

‘I’m not a pimp,’ said Lamont acidly.

‘Of course you’re not, Superintendent. But fortunately, I have a client who swims in those particular waters, so you can leave Hogan to me, while you concentrate on DS Roycroft.’

‘Is there anything in particular you want me to find out, when I next see her?’

‘The names of everyone under investigation by Warwick’s new unit.’

‘That shouldn’t prove difficult, but it won’t come cheap.’

Booth Watson opened his desk drawer, withdrew a thick brown envelope and pushed it across the table, confident in the knowledge that if the ex-Superintendent found a wallet stuffed with fifty-pound notes, he wouldn’t hand it in to the nearest police station.

? ? ?

‘I can only imagine what you must be going through,’ said William, as he sat down next to James and placed an arm around the young man’s shoulder. ‘But I’m not convinced your grandfather died of a heart attack.’

‘Neither am I,’ said James, tears streaming down his face. ‘Even if he did, I’d still want to know what was in that flask.’

‘Then I’ll need you to be at your sharpest for the next forty-eight hours, because once we dock in New York the NYPD won’t be interested in what I have to say, unless I can show reasonable grounds for suspicion.’

‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’

‘I need a detailed table plan that shows where everyone was seated during dinner. And, more important, I want you to write down what you remember of the conversation that took place between your grandfather and your uncle Hamish concerning what he was drinking.’

‘That would be hard to forget,’ said James. He gathered up half a dozen menu cards, turned one over and began to draw a rectangle on the back of it. He had filled in the last name by the time Franco reappeared, carrying three pairs of white gloves. He handed one pair each to William and James, keeping the third for himself.