Blood and Stone (26 page)

‘Tell me a bit more about Jeremy Bryce,' Bullman said.

‘I don't know very much,' Mariner said, truthfully. ‘He was one of those people who listened more than he talked. He was a tourist, in Wales on a walking holiday, like me.'

‘That's all?'

‘He was a university lecturer of some kind. He didn't say at which institution; only that it was formerly a polytechnic, but he seemed interested in historical sites.'

‘Oh well, that narrows it down then,' said Bullman with irony. He sat back in his chair. ‘Okay, let's take a break. You realize that we'll need to keep you here for the moment.'

Mariner nodded. ‘Yes, I understand that.'

Terminating the interview, Bullman switched off the machine and left the room. Griffith made to follow him but stopped in the doorway. ‘Humour me,' he said to Mariner. ‘Why have you really been staying in the hostel? I mean, it's not even a going concern any more.'

‘I know Elena,' said Mariner. ‘We go back a long way.'

Griffith stared at him, wanting to know more about that, but knowing equally that it was of limited relevance right now. ‘So you've been to Caranwy before?' he said.

‘Only for a short time in the summer of '82.'

‘Does that mean you also know other people in the village?'

‘I don't think so. Most other people have moved on.'

‘It's a mess, isn't it?' Griffith concluded. ‘We'll try not to keep you waiting too long.'

‘How's Elena?' Mariner dared to ask.

‘She's fine,' came the expected reply.

K
nox arrived at the police station in the middle of the afternoon. He was impatient to see Mariner, but protocol demanded that he report to the senior investigating officer. Superintendent Bullman was unavailable, so he met first of all with Ryan Griffith, for which Knox was glad. It wouldn't hurt to get some feel for the man. First impressions were of a consummate professional. ‘We're holding DI Mariner because he was the last person to see Jeremy Bryce alive, and he was sharing a room with him the night Mr Bryce died,' Griffith said.

‘And what is he saying?'

‘That he didn't do it, of course. He claims that he was out of the room until the early hours of the morning. It's not enough to get him off the hook, of course. We haven't got a time of death yet, and when we do it's unlikely that it will be that specific.'

‘But he didn't do it,' Knox said, with absolute conviction.

‘No, I don't think he did,' Griffith confessed. ‘But until we've got anything more substantial …'

‘Yeah, he gets that and so do I.'

‘We're working on it,' Griffith said.

‘Who was this Bryce?' Knox asked.

‘A tourist. Your gaffer picked him up a few days ago, and then they met again on Sunday in Caranwy.'

‘That's all you know?'

‘He's apparently some kind of college professor, history possibly, but we've no address and no-one has apparently reported him missing. His wallet seems to have disappeared. My chief is doing the press stuff now, including putting out a media appeal for anyone who might know him to come forward. We're having to tidy up one of the post-mortem photographs to use, which isn't ideal, but it's all we've got.'

‘Are you linking it to this other murder?'

‘It makes sense to,' Griffith said. ‘This is a remote country village. Murder doesn't happen here, so when you get two this close together, chances are they're related. But although they're both knife attacks the MOs are pretty different. Theo Ashton's attack was frenzied, with multiple stab wounds. This one was clean and controlled.'

‘And a murder weapon?'

‘We haven't found anything for either yet, though we've had to send Mr Mariner's pocket knife for analysis. He's been carrying it around in his backpack the last few days.' Griffith cast his eyes down to something suddenly important on his desk. ‘What would you say Tom's mental state is?'

‘He's been through some personal difficulties recently,' Knox said, cautiously. ‘An ex-partner died suddenly. He was still close to her. But we've been more concerned about him being a danger to himself than to anyone else. I'd like to see DI Mariner now.'

 

Knox was shown down to the holding cells, which replicated those in any police station across the country, distinguishable mainly by the smell of disinfectant that barely masked the odour of human sweat and excrement. It was, Knox thought, the genuine smell of fear. The boss looked in reasonable shape, all things considered. He was pale and bearded and the shapeless track suit looked incongruous, but Knox was relieved to note that there was no outward indication that the boss was losing his mind.

‘Am I glad to see you,' said Mariner. The men shook hands.

‘How are you?'

‘I'm okay. How's it looking out there?'

‘They're doing their job.'

‘I'm glad to hear it.' Mariner's eyes locked on to his sergeant's. ‘You know I didn't do this.'

‘Yeah, and I'm pretty sure Griffith knows that too. I'll be honest with you. When you first told me, I did wonder if … you know … the grief and everything. But I can see that we were wrong. Want to give me your side of it?'

Mariner recounted his story, from the point at which he picked up Bryce for the second time. ‘I feel terrible. He was a nice guy and now I'm wondering if I could somehow have been responsible for his death. If it is a case of mistaken identity, if he hadn't come with me and stayed at the hostel—'

‘Not your fault, Boss.'

‘We don't know that. Are they getting anywhere with finding out who he was?'

‘Bullman's about to put out a media appeal.'

‘So now we just wait,' said Mariner. ‘Did you find out anything useful about our other local residents?' Mariner asked. ‘How about Nigel Weller?'

‘There was more about him on Wikipedia than on the PNC. He was something of a celebrity; one of the founding members of some rock band called Easy Money?'

‘
The
Easy Money?'

‘You've heard of them?' Knox looked up in surprise.

‘If it's who I'm thinking of, they had a couple of hits back in the Sixties or Seventies. They were pretty big in the Midlands. You remember “Lookin' for Love”?'

‘That a question or a song title? Yeah, as it happens I do now, but I needed reminding. I don't think they were quite so popular on Merseyside. Anyway, that sort of makes sense then, because his other claim to fame was his part-ownership of the Mellow nightclub in Solihull through the 1980s. He sold up his share of it just before he moved out here.'

‘So no criminal record for our friend Weller?'

‘I didn't say that. He had a couple of possession of cannabis charges and one assault charge, but all years ago, probably about the time he was pretending to be a rock star. Since then it's been all peace and love, man.' Knox mockingly raised the two-finger palm salute.

‘Hm. Just because any criminal activity hasn't been logged, doesn't mean he hasn't retained his interest.'

‘In what? The drugs?'

‘It's what I think.' Mariner told Knox about his experiences at the farm and the conclusions he'd reached.

‘But a few plants for personal use aren't going to land him in too much trouble, are they?'

‘I'm still convinced that there's more to it than that,' said Mariner.

‘But based on what?'

Knox was right. It was nothing more than a gut feeling, and it wasn't enough. ‘What does Griffith think?' he asked.

‘I don't know. He played along with me, but I think he was satisfied with the explanation given.'

‘You think he knows more than he's owning up to?'

‘It's possible. This area was hard hit by foot and mouth. Elena said it herself; everything around here was getting pretty rundown, but in the last few years the investments that Willow and now Shapasnikov are making in the local area are helping to turn things around. Griffith is from round here and would be aware of that transformation. I'm just saying that he'd have an interest in seeing that it continues.'

‘Do you want me to go and poke around a bit more?' Knox asked.

‘No, leave it for now,' Mariner said. ‘There's enough activity going on now with the murder investigations. They're going to be on their guard. What about Shapasnikov?'

‘Even less on him,' said Knox. ‘Just a couple of paragraphs in the popular press, mainly relating to him buying the Hall, and one magazine mention as part of a feature about wealthy Eastern Europeans taking over the country. Unlike most of your Russian oligarchs, the man would appear to be, if not completely squeaky clean, at least largely legit. He was born in St Petersburg and made his fortune through timber. He has a worldwide export firm, though his business interests are many and varied. One of which is a chain of nightclubs across different cities in the UK, called RedZone.'

‘Isn't there one of those on Broad Street?' queried Mariner.

‘There is. Shapasnikov enjoys life too. The articles mainly feature him escorting glamorous young models to various high-profile social events, and he owns a couple of racehorses.'

‘Well he wouldn't be a proper oligarch if there weren't a few of those. I understand the weekend parties he holds out here are pretty big affairs.'

‘Maybe we should find out who's on his guest lists,' said Knox.

‘Not a bad idea,' Mariner agreed. ‘Birmingham must seem a bit dead – forgive the expression – compared with all this.'

‘Not exactly,' Knox said, grimly. ‘We've had our own brand of excitement while you've been away.' He filled Mariner in on the dramatic events of Michael's party.

‘Christ. So Charlie's got a potential murder investigation on his hands. How's he managing?'

‘He's doing all right. There have been further developments at your place too, and not good ones.' Knox told him about the ransacking. ‘Sorry. I've ID'd a suspect though; caught him in the act.' Knox described the man at the cottage. ‘Does he sound like anyone you know?'

‘Apart from all the dozens of scrotes I've dealt with over the years? Not especially,' said Mariner. ‘Have you talked to Kat?'

‘Not yet,' Knox said. ‘I've been round to her flat but according to her neighbour she doesn't go back there much.'

‘I think she spends most of her time with the “dog's bollocks”,' Mariner said gloomily.

‘You mean the fragrant Giles? Not jealous are we?'

‘Of what; the youth, the looks or the money?' Mariner snorted. ‘Why on earth would I be?'

‘She hasn't been doing much work for Brasshouse lately either; they hadn't seen her for a while.'

Mariner felt the first murmur of unease. ‘That I don't understand. Kat loves her job.'

‘But maybe she doesn't need it if Giles is keeping her,' Knox suggested. ‘Doesn't he earn big bucks?'

‘That's not the point.' Mariner frowned. ‘Kat wouldn't want to be kept. You know what she's like. After what she went through her independence and freedom are sacrosanct to her. When's the last time anyone saw her?'

‘A few days ago is what everyone's saying.'

‘I don't like it,' said Mariner. ‘Goran Zjalic may have gone away for fifteen years, but he has some powerful friends.' With Kat's help, Mariner and his colleagues had successfully had the man responsible for trafficking convicted and sentenced, but as they both knew, that was never the end of the story.

‘You think …?'

‘I had an odd experience driving out here after the funeral,' said Mariner. ‘I thought I was being followed. Someone was close on my tail, headlights on full beam, some kind of dark-coloured SUV. The other night there was another one, hulking great black thing, hanging around in the lane opposite where I'm staying. It looked out of place. I mean, there are plenty of off-road vehicles, but not many that shiny. What if Zjalic's mates are after both me and Kat?'

Mariner's question didn't provoke the response he'd hoped for. He wanted Knox to dismiss the idea as far-fetched, but instead his sergeant was thoughtful. ‘There's something else you should know about Nikolai Shapasnikov,' he said, frowning. ‘He has business interests in Albania. I mean, they're distant, but they are there all the same.'

‘Any names come up?'

‘None that I recognized.'

‘But if we're saying he's connected with what's happening out here, I've never even met the man. How would he know about me?' Mariner was struggling to piece it all together.

‘If this is about Zjalic, he could have been monitoring you for months,' Knox pointed out. ‘You've been to Shapasnikov's place, met his staff?'

‘Not his staff as such,' Mariner said distractedly, thinking of Suzy. Had she told Shapasnikov about him and where he was staying? ‘Or all this could be about someone trying to frame me for murder; they failed with Ashton so tried again with Bryce.'

As they were considering this, a knock on the door preceded DI Griffith. ‘The good news is that we're going to let you go,' he said. ‘Even if I thought you did kill Jeremy Bryce – which, for the record, I don't – there isn't enough to charge you, and what we have so far is only circumstantial. I would prefer it if you didn't leave the area just yet though, and if you'd check in from time to time I'd appreciate it. You need to be careful too. If someone did kill Bryce instead of you by mistake, they might be tempted to have another go.'

‘There's a comforting thought,' said Mariner.

‘I wouldn't go wandering off on your own just now,' Griffith advised, unnecessarily.

‘This makes finding Kat a bit more urgent,' Mariner said to Knox. ‘I'd feel happier if I knew where she was. I can't quite see how, but if this should happen to be anything to do with Goran Zjalic, someone could be after her too.'