? ? ?
William picked up the phone by his bedside, assuming it would be The Hawk calling to deliver a second volley.
‘Hello, caveman. Do you miss me?’
‘More than you realize,’ admitted William. He wanted to tell Beth why, but satisfied himself with, ‘How’s New York?’ There was a buzz of boisterous laughter in the background.
‘Splendiferous! We went to the Frick this afternoon, and you were right about the Bellini, stunning. But I couldn’t wait to find out how the wedding went. Did you arrest Faulkner before or after he said “I do”？’
‘After,’ said William, hoping he would have done so by the time Beth returned.
‘How did Christina react?’ she asked, sounding like The Hawk.
‘Not over the phone, my darling. I’ll tell you everything as soon as you get back. What are you up to this evening?’ he asked, desperate to change the subject.
‘We’re going to La Cage aux Folles. Had to buy scalper’s tickets. But then, a deserted woman can’t afford to hang around. I miss you.’
‘Miss you too.’
‘And congratulations.’
‘On what?’
‘On your triumph. Can’t wait to hear all about it. I have to go now, the curtain’s about to go up. Sleep well, miss you.’
William didn’t sleep well; in fact he didn’t sleep at all. He would have liked to discuss the problem with Beth and seek her advice, but it would have ruined her holiday. In fact, he suspected she would have been on her way to JFK before the curtain had gone up. By the time the first suggestion of morning announced itself through a crack in the curtain, William had already taken a cold shower, dressed, had a bowl of cornflakes and made two phone calls: one to Danny and the other to DI Ross Hogan.
He was about half-way through briefing his new second-in-command when he remembered what time it was. He began to apologize, when he heard a muffled voice in the background, which he thought he recognized. He’d clearly woken both of them.
‘I’ll be there as quickly as I can, sir,’ said Hogan, before putting the phone down.
‘Do give the chief my best wishes,’ said Jackie, as Ross leapt out of bed. ‘And don’t forget to thank him for ruining our last weekend together.’
? ? ?
Danny pulled up outside DCI Warwick’s house forty minutes later. William climbed into the back of the car to join Ross, who looked far more awake than he felt.
DI Hogan was clearly a man who wasn’t quite ready for plainclothes work. He was dressed in a pair of light blue jeans, a creased T-shirt that looked as if it had been picked up off the floor, and trainers which, although top of the range, were hardly regulation. But that’s how The Hawk would have described his brain.
‘What a balls-up, sir,’ were Ross’s first words as William pulled the back door closed.
‘Couldn’t be much worse. In fact, you’d better get used to calling me William, as I have a feeling I could be calling you sir by the end of the week,’ he said, before revealing the details of his telephone conversation with The Hawk.
‘That bad?’
‘Worse. He pointed out,’ continued William, ‘that we have more than enough evidence to arrest Christina Faulkner for assisting an offender, contrary to the 1967 Criminal Law Act.’
‘Which would keep her out of harm’s way for at least five years.’
‘However, he felt we should concentrate on the bigger prize, while keeping her under surveillance. He believes she’ll happily shop her husband in return for a reduced sentence, so we should, to quote him, keep our powder dry.’
‘I wonder which party Booth Watson would end up representing, when it came to trial.’
‘Both of them, if he thought he could get away with it,’ said William.
‘So what’s our next move?’
‘Some old-fashioned foot-slogging, as if we were back on the beat learning our trade. First, we have to reconstruct everything that took place yesterday in the hope of finding out where Faulkner ended up. Danny,’ said William, leaning forward, ‘head for that railway crossing where Faulkner took us both for a ride.’
During the journey to Limpton, William took Ross through the best-laid scheme he’d come up with during the night.
‘Of mice and men,’ said Ross.
‘I know which I am,’ said William. ‘None of this would have been necessary if I’d used a squad car and not a taxi when we followed Faulkner. So The Hawk’s right, there’s no one else to blame. If I don’t find Faulkner by the end of the week, I’ll be back on the beat, and it’s not hard to work out who’ll be appointed to take my place.’