Murder On Account Page 10

  “That’s never going to happen. Sharon and I are history. What about you? What’s it like being a private investigator?”

  “You know that guy who sells buckets on the market on the high street?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, it’s nothing like that. It’s not much like being a librarian either.”

  “Are you ever serious?”

  “Not if I can help it. Are you going to eat that last sausage?”

  “I’ve had too much already.”

  “Shame to let it go to waste.” I grabbed it from his plate.

  “How can you eat so much and still look like you do?”

  “I have a fast metabolism.”

  Breakfast over, we were just about to leave when I spotted Ricky Simms with his old dad, Arthur, sitting at a table at the back of the café. They must have come in while Graham and I were debating how posh he was.

  “I’ve just spotted someone I should say hello to,” I said to Graham.

  “Shall I wait for you?”

  “No, I might be a while.”

  “How about going for a drink with me tonight?”

  “Sorry, no can do. I’m working undercover.”

  “All night?”

  “Yep.”

  “When will you sleep?”

  “When I’m dead.”

  “Hey, Ricky, Arthur. I didn’t see you two come in.”

  “You were too busy whispering sweet nothings to that new fellow of yours.” Arthur only had the two front teeth. One on the top and one on the bottom.

  “Don’t be daft, Arthur. You know I only have eyes for you.”

  “Don’t encourage him, Kat,” Ricky said.

  “I haven’t seen either of you for a while. Where have you been hiding?”

  “I’ve been on the sick for a month with my back.” Ricky winced as he tried to straighten it. “I did it at work.”

  Ricky was a dustbin man, or as they insisted on calling them today, a waste disposal technician.

  “He doesn’t know what hard work is,” Arthur chipped in. “I used to work twelve hour shifts down the foundry.”

  “Eight days a week, weren’t it, Arthur?”

  “Don’t wind him up, Kat.” Ricky laughed. “You’re not the one who has to live with him.”

  “Has he moved in with you, then?”

  “Hey! I’m right here!” Arthur scolded me. “I’m not dead yet.”

  “Sorry, Arthur. I didn’t know you’d moved in with Ricky.”

  “Not my idea.”

  “It’s only temporary, Dad. I’ve told you that.” Ricky turned to me. “He had a bit of trouble.”

  “Have you been poorly, Arthur?” I asked.

  “No, I ain’t been poorly. This one thinks I’m losing my marbles, but I can still run rings around him. And you, come to that.”

  “I never said you’d lost your marbles, Dad. It’s just for a couple of weeks.”

  “That bed of yours is too hard.” Arthur stood up. “I’m going to the bookies.”

  “I haven’t finished my breakfast yet,” Ricky said.

  “You can catch up with me when you have.”

  “Just be careful.”

  “Bye, Arthur,” I called after him.

  When he was out of the door, I asked Ricky what had been behind the decision for his father to move in with him.

  “Some lowlife stole his watch and cash.”

  “He was mugged?”

  “No, thank goodness. A guy came to the door and reckoned he was from the water company. Dad let him in, and then after he’d left, Dad realised the man had taken the watch and money. He won’t admit it, but it shook him up a bit.”

  “How old is Arthur now?”

  “Eighty-one.”

  “I was talking to Rose in the Gerbil the other night. Same thing happened to her old mum.”

  “The police never told me that.”

  “It might not have been the same guy, I suppose.”

  “What makes someone do something like that, Kat? Preying on old people? If I get hold of him, I’ll kick seven shades out of him.”

  “You’ll have to get in the queue behind Rose.”

  “What about your old grandmother, Kat? Does she still live on her own?”

  “Vi? Yeah. Ever since I moved out.”

  “Has she ever thought about moving into a residential home?”

  “There’s only one way you’ll get her out of her place, and that’s feet first.”

  “Still, you ought to warn her about this conman. Who knows where he’ll strike next?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “I’d better go and find Dad before he bets away all his pension.”

  “See you, Ricky.”

  ***

  On my journey into the city, I was still trying to work out what I was going to do about the Premax case. When Roy had originally taken it on, the idea was that I’d work a few nightshifts instead of my normal daytime duties. Now that it was just me, I was having to work both day and night. That obviously wasn’t going to work. I hated the idea of having to quit on a case, but realistically I couldn’t work twenty-four hours a day. Roy had used Westy on some cases, but he and I weren’t exactly on good terms at the moment. Longer term, if things worked out, I’d be able to set on another experienced P.I. with whom I could share the load, but that was a non-starter for now.

  By the time I arrived at the Sidings, I’d decided that I’d have to call Kevin Lockhart, and tell him I was going to have to bow out of the Premax case.

  There was a young woman in the office, sitting on Zero’s desk. One look at him, told me he was smitten with her.

  “Kat, this is Toyah.”

  “Hi, Toyah.”

  “Hi.” She had more ear piercings than you could shake a stick at. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in to see Z.”

  “Not at all. He was just about to make me a cup of coffee, weren’t you, Zero?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Would you like one, Toyah?” I offered.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got to get to work.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss. “See ya.”

  Zero brought my coffee through a few minutes later.

  “I take it that you and Toyah are an item?”

  “Yeah. For two years now.”

  “I noticed she called you Z. Do you prefer that?”

  “I don’t mind much either way. I call her T most of the time.”

  “T and Z? That’s sweet.”

  “Shut up.” He blushed.

  “What does Toyah do?”

  “She works in a sushi bar.”

  “Around here?”

  “No. Near Tottenham Court Road. She’s actually a qualified aromatherapist, but there are no job openings in that field at the moment.”

  “Right.”

  “Kat, you’ve not been logging your time properly.”

  “Guilty as charged. I am getting better at it, though. Anyway, you may as well remove one of the cases from the system. When I’ve finished this coffee, I’m going to give Kevin Lockhart at Premax a call to tell him they’ll have to find someone else to take over the case.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I can’t work all day and all night too. Something has to give, and Premax is the obvious candidate.”

  “But I haven’t finished checking their CCTV yet.”

  “You managed to access it, then?”

  “Of course I did. Piece of cake. I’ve run through it a couple of times, but so far there’s nothing much to see.” He grinned. “Except for you in those awful overalls.”

  “They were standard issue.”

  “I would hope so. I’d hate to think you’d worn them voluntarily. I was planning to give the footage a closer look just in case I missed something.”

  “Don’t waste any more time on it. We’re done with that case.”

  ***

  Kevin Lockhart was quite understanding when I explained that I was going to have to drop
his case. If it hadn’t been for Roy’s death, I’m pretty sure he would have given me a much harder time, and I wouldn’t have blamed him because we’d well and truly dropped the ball this time.

  Zero popped his head around my door. “Got a minute?”

  “Yeah, come in.”

  “How did the guy at Premax take it?”

  “He was quite reasonable under the circumstances. I’m not sure I’d have been so understanding in his position.”

  “Do you want me to bill him for the time you’ve already spent on the case?”

  “I didn’t discuss that with him.”

  “He was paying by the hour, wasn’t he? Not on results.”

  “True, but it just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Insolvency will feel a whole lot worse. Why don’t I just bill him and see what happens?”

  “Yeah, okay. Nothing to lose, I guess.”

  “By the way, I found out who’s living in that flat in the Isle of Dogs.”

  “Who is it?”

  “As far as I can make out, there’s just the one occupant: a woman named Deborah Todman.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “Maybe not. She’s fifty-nine years old.”

  “That would make her almost thirty years older than Ralph. Somehow, I can’t see her being the other woman. Are you sure there isn’t anyone else living there?”

  “I can’t be one-hundred percent positive, but she’s the only one showing on all the records: council, utilities, electoral roll. Maybe she’s a relative of his?”

  “If that was the case, why wouldn’t he just tell Christine where he was going? I reckon there must be someone else staying there. Ideally, I’d stake out the flat to see who comes and goes, but there’s no chance of that. I need to focus on finding Roy’s murderer, and the Fulton case.”

  “I could do it. I could stake out the flat.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Why is it stupid?”

  “I brought you in to work here in the office.”

  “Your case management system is up to date, your social media is all sorted, and I can’t set up the accounts until you get those books.”

  “I looked for them at Roy’s house, but no joy. Maybe they’re in his car. I’ll have to ask his daughter what happened to them.”

  “So, why don’t I watch the flat?”

  “I need someone here to answer the phones.”

  “You sound like my grandma.”

  “Hey, watch it.”

  “I can divert all the calls to my mobile. What’s the point in me sitting here with nothing to do?”

  “You don’t have any experience of surveillance.”

  “How difficult can it be to watch a flat? And let’s be honest, no one would suspect me of being there on surveillance, would they?”

  “That’s true. They’d be more likely to think you were casing the joint.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No offence.”

  “Does that mean I can do it?”

  “I suppose so.

  “When do I start?”

  “No time like the present.”

  “Great.”

  “I want a photo of everyone who goes in or out of that flat.”

  “Sweet. If Deborah Todman leaves, shall I follow her?”

  “No. She’s not the one we’re interested in. I want to know who else lives there, or visits there.”

  “Okay.”

  “One other thing.” I handed him a slip of paper with Lisa’s phone number on it. “Can you keep trying this number? It belongs to a woman named Lisa. I’ve tried it a dozen times already, but she isn’t picking up. If she does answer, tell her I’d like to speak to her as a matter of urgency about Mike Dale. She can call me on my mobile, or if she’d prefer, I can meet her somewhere.”

  “Will do.”

  “If you do manage to contact her, text me, will you?”

  “I’ll Whatsapp you.”

  “Whatever. Just let me know. And Zero, don’t make me regret this.”

  Chapter 13

  My phone rang.

  “Kat, can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you, Vi.”

  “I didn’t think this phone was working.”

  “It seems to be okay.”

  “That’s strange because I couldn’t think of any other reason you wouldn’t have called me for two weeks.”

  Vi had mastered the art of the burn long before the term had even been coined.

  “I’m sorry, but things have been really crazy recently.”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “I—err.” I had expected to be working the nightshift at Premax, but now my evening was free. “Nothing much, actually.”

  “Why don’t you pop over for dinner? It’s your favourite: corned beef hash.”

  As a Londoner all her life, I was prepared to forgive Vi for incorrectly referring to tea as dinner. “That sounds great. What time shall I come over?”

  “Mrs Grove has asked me to look after her Rhubarb this afternoon, so you’d better make it six.”

  It was just as well that I knew Rhubarb was her neighbour’s Chihuahua. “What will Catzilla make of that?”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call Lulu that horrible name.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I have to keep them in separate rooms.”

  I wasn’t in the least surprised. Lulu, AKA Catzilla, was a nightmare of a cat. Given half a chance, she would have chewed up the little dog and spit him out.

  “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

  ***

  I had expected there to be CCTV at Fulton Associates, but a quick call to Ted Fulton had established that there were no cameras inside or outside their offices. All was not yet lost, though. Maybe there would be cameras on the nearby buildings.

  The buildings either side of Fulton Associates were unoccupied, but across the road, I struck gold. The bar, Top Heavy, brought a whole new meaning to the word sleazy. It had a neon sign in the window that read: Exotic Dancers – Seven Nights A Week.

  I could see very little through the tinted windows, so I took a deep breath and ventured inside. It transpired that there was nothing much to see on the ground floor except for more posters advertising the exotic dancers and happy hour. The bar itself was in the basement.

  Downstairs, the lighting was low, and the carpets sticky. With what, I didn’t care to imagine. The place was practically deserted.

  “Have you come about the job, love?” The man behind the bar had a toupee balanced precariously on his head. “Did you bring your costume?”

  “What does she need a costume for?” The drunk, who was propped up on a stool next to the bar, undressed me with his bloodshot eyes.

  “I’m not here about a job.”

  “You sure? We pay top dollar to our girls. You would work three shows, five days a week, and all the tips you can make. A looker like you would do well.”

  “No, thanks. I wanted to ask someone about your CCTV.”

  “You a cop? There are no drugs in here. I won’t stand for them.”

  “I’m not a cop.”

  “All our girls are old enough. I make them bring in their birth certificates.”

  “I’m just interested in the CCTV.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a private investigator.”

  “Bit of a sleazy job for a woman that, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve been hired to find a man who has gone missing. He worked in the offices directly across the road. I was hoping I might be able to check your CCTV footage for the day he disappeared. It’s just possible it may have caught him on there.”

  “No skin off my nose. Do you know how to work it?”

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  “Come on, then. I’ll show you where it is.”

  It turned out that Brad, that was the manager’s name, wasn’t the total lowlife I’d had him down as. Not only did he set me up in his office with the CCTV, he even brought me a cup of
coffee, on the house. It tasted like rat pee, but it’s the thought that counts.

  I could have done with Zero there to help me because I wasn’t the least bit techie. After a couple of false starts, I eventually got to grips with the controls. Luckily, it seemed that Brad never wiped the recordings, which seemed to go back several months. I knew the date that Mike Dale had gone missing, and that he’d worked a full day at the office on that particular day, so I started to view the tape from four-thirty onwards.

  The footage wasn’t great because it was focussed on the pavement on this side of the road. However, the offices of Fulton Associates were visible in the background, and I was able to zoom in on the main doors to watch the comings and goings. At six-thirty-five, according to the timestamp, Mike Dale came out of one of the automatic doors, and turned left.

  In his hand, he was carrying a laptop computer.

  “Did you find what you wanted, love?” Brad shouted when I returned to the bar.

  “Yes, I think so. Thanks for your help.”

  “No worries. If you ever decide you’d like to make a bit of extra cash in the evenings, there’s a job here for you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.”

  Mike Dale’s PA had told me that her boss never took his laptop home with him, so why had he taken it that day? Had he known that he wouldn’t be returning? And why had Ted Fulton told Tas that the computer was in for repair? I really did need to speak to Lisa, but there were no messages from Zero which suggested he hadn’t been able to get hold of her either.

  ***

  The business with Westy was still weighing heavily on my mind. I hadn’t yet ruled him out as Roy’s murderer, but it was also possible that it could have been someone related to one of the cases that he’d been working on. I wasn’t particularly worried about his veiled threats because he would have had to be a complete idiot to attack me so soon after Roy’s murder. To do so would have been to shine a spotlight on himself.

  It was time to give him a call.

  “It’s Kat.”

  “Have you got my money?”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “What is there to talk about? I just want my money.”

  “Can we meet?”