No Holds Barred (23 page)

‘I might have known you'd be on to that.'

‘Not just on to it – you're on the front page of today's paper,' William told him, picking up a copy of the
Gazette
from a pile and handing it across. ‘Didn't you see it?'

‘Yes. Taylor showed it to me.' William had done the story proud with a photo of the blackened ruin of Forester's taking up more than half the first page, under the headline ‘Forest Cottage Gutted by Fire'.

‘Yeah, well, luck didn't come into it,' Daniel said grimly. ‘Some bastard lobbed a couple of petrol bombs through the windows.'

William swivelled his chair round to get a better look at his visitor.

‘You're kidding!'

‘I'm not, though.'

‘Any idea who?'

‘I have, but I'm not going to tell you because I don't want it splashed across the front of next week's paper. A court case I can well do without.'

‘Strictly off the record  . . .'

‘Oh, come on, you're a journalist! It would be positively cruel to tell you something you couldn't publish. So, what was it you wanted to show me?'

‘At this point I could offer to strike a bargain with you,' William observed slyly.

‘Except that you're too decent a bloke to stoop so low,' Daniel stated.

William grinned good-humouredly. ‘Bastard. OK, take a look at this.'

Clicking on the monitor screen, he changed the aerial view to another one, centred it and zoomed in.

Daniel obediently leaned forward.

‘That's the salvage yard, isn't it? I Googled it myself.'

‘Yes, except this isn't Google; it's an aerial photo taken earlier this year. The Google one is a couple of years old now. Look right in the middle where that digger is working.'

‘I'm looking,' Daniel said. He could see the JCB William had pointed to and, beside it, a circular hole in the ground ringed by two concentric circles. ‘What are those? Walls? Foundations?'

‘I presume so,' William said. ‘But whatever it is, my point is: where is it now? I've flown over the village several times this summer. I have a microlight,' he explained. ‘Anyway, there's no sign of any structure there now, just piles of scrap. So, where is it?'

‘Buried under the scrap?'

‘That's the only answer I could come up with. But why go to the trouble of building something and then burying it?'

‘Why indeed?' Daniel agreed. ‘Only if you didn't want anyone to know it was there. Those are quite sizeable footings, if that's what they are. One wonders if our friend Norman had planning permission for his little project  . . .'

‘He didn't,' William said. ‘There's no record of any application.'

Daniel raised his eyebrows, impressed by the editor's initiative. ‘And that's not the only disappearing building on that site. When the Google photos were taken, they had a couple of long buildings, but I can't find them on the ground.'

‘No, they're still there – look, next to that crane-like thing but tucked well away.' William pointed.

Daniel leaned in closer.

‘You're right. You know, with a bit of imagination you might almost say that circular feature of yours had the makings of a dog-fighting pit with a viewing area around it. They wouldn't have the nerve, would they? Right in their back yard.'

‘I wouldn't put it past them,' William said. ‘But it seems a lot of effort and expense to go to just to set up a dog fight.'

‘Peanuts!' Daniel said. ‘Organized dog fighting is big business. People will come from all over the world to a big fight. Massive amounts of money change hands.' He sat back in his chair. ‘So, what got you looking at these photos? Why the sudden interest in Boyd's Salvage?'

‘It was after your visit the other day. I got to thinking that if anyone in this area was involved in dog fighting, I'd put money on it being our friends the Boyds, so I did a little digging.'

‘And what else did you find out, I wonder?'

‘Not a lot that I didn't already know. The family has been in the news quite a bit but mostly for minor stuff – disputes with neighbours, untaxed vehicles, etcetera. They're suspected of a whole lot more but they're slippery customers and mostly seem to get away with it.'

‘So I gather. I've done some digging of my own – or at least got a friend to do it,' Daniel said. He filled William in on some of what Jo-Ji had told him about Lynda Boyd's connection with the Butcher family and how they'd been had up for owning fighting dogs.

‘No convictions, because the dogs in question were stolen from the holding kennels by persons unknown before the case actually came to trial.'

‘Yeah, right! Persons unknown,' William snorted.

‘Exactly. I'm pleased to say they're a bit more careful these days. They don't tell the suspects where they're taking their dogs.'

‘I can't believe they ever would have,' William said incredulously.

‘Bit of a no-brainer, isn't it? Anyway, this aerial photo is a real find. You've done well.'

‘Thank you.' William inclined his head. ‘So, what do we do now?'

‘
We
?'

‘Well, I think I've earned the right to be involved, don't you?'

‘Maybe, but why would you
want
to be? These are not nice people.'

‘I get that. It's just – I spend all my working time reporting on life's events. Sometimes I feel I want to be out there taking part in them.'

‘You're bored,' Daniel said bluntly.

‘Well, OK. Yes,' he admitted.

Daniel regarded him for a long moment and then said, ‘Well, actually, I'm not sure what to do next – or, at least, I know what I'd like to do, but I can't see how to do it at the moment. I'd like to go and have another poke round the salvage yard, but with their bloody CCTV you only get about five minutes before someone comes to ask you what you're up to.'

‘Perhaps I could distract them,' William ventured hopefully.

‘And how do you plan to do that?' Daniel asked, amused. ‘Do a striptease or something?'

‘I could go and be an awkward customer. Complain very loudly – ask to see the manager. That sort of thing.'

Daniel pulled a face. ‘It'd never work. You're too well known round here. What I'd like to do is find the entrance to this secret building – if it really does exist – and plant a little spy camera of my own.'

‘Have you got one?' William was clearly impressed.

‘No, but they're easy enough to get hold of. Pretty cheap, too.'

‘Well, we'll have to think of something else, that's all.'

‘Fine. Let me know what you come up with,' Daniel said. ‘Right now, I'd better go and see if I can find a bed for the night.'

‘Um  . . . You can always stay here, if you want. I do sometimes, when I've worked really late and I can't be bothered to go home. It's only a camp bed, but it's OK, and there's a loo and a shower and a kitchen and everything. It used to be a bedsit, you see. But you probably have other plans  . . .' he tailed off.

‘Only the pub,' Daniel admitted.

‘The Fox'll cost you seventy quid a night and The Crown is even more,' William said promptly.

‘And what do
you
charge?'

‘Don't be daft! It makes no difference to me. It's yours as long as you want it.'

‘You're very trusting. I might make off with the safe!'

‘You're welcome to it. It's only got some photographic negatives and stuff in it. I can't imagine they'd interest you. Besides, if you can't trust an ex-copper, who can you trust?'

‘Ah. So you've been checking me out. I might have guessed you would.'

‘I was curious. It's in my nature.' William looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘I couldn't work out why you were getting so involved, so I Googled you and came up with some newspaper stuff from Bristol. It doesn't change anything. And I won't tell, if you don't want me to.'

‘I'd appreciate that. And about the room, thanks – I'll take it.' Daniel was genuinely grateful. ‘I imagine I'll be gone long before you get here in the morning.'

‘I imagine you will,' William said with a grin. ‘I don't generally get here before midday, though Amy's here by ten. Or so she tells me,' he added thoughtfully. ‘By the way, there's no food, but the baker's up the road is open at half seven and they do a mean breakfast. I can vouch for that.'

William was right. The baker's did do a good breakfast, and Daniel was just swallowing the last of his coffee when he was surprised to see William himself come in, looking even more unkempt than usual.

‘Good God! Either I'm very late, or you're inordinately early,' Daniel exclaimed, glancing at his watch.

‘I'm horribly early,' William said with a shudder, slipping into the vacant seat opposite him. ‘But I had to show you this.' He deposited a printed sheet of paper in front of Daniel.

Daniel scanned it briefly. It was from the local electricity supplier, giving notice of work to be carried out in the high street later that week.

‘And  . . . ?'

‘Well, they're doing maintenance work,' he explained in the tone one would use for a small child. ‘That means the power has to be turned off – look, it even says so. We apologize for any inconvenience, blah blah  . . . interruption to the power supply at any time between nine thirty and three thirty on Thursday for a period of not more than two hours. And if there's no power, there's no CCTV at the salvage yard, am I right?'

‘Ah, I'm with you. Good thinking, Mr Faulkner! And all before eight o'clock in the morning. I'm impressed.'

William caught the eye of the woman behind the counter.

‘Black coffee, please, Brenda, and one of your breakfast baps with all the trimmings,' he said with a winning smile.

‘You'll get fat,' Daniel joked, eyeing his companion's lean frame.

‘I wish. Anyway, as it's only two days away, I thought you'd want to know about the power being off straight away, so you can get hold of what you need.'

‘Right-oh, thanks.' Daniel drained his mug and stood up. ‘I'm going to have to leave you. Work calls. Tell me, are you still thinking of coming along on this jaunt?'

‘Absolutely.'

Daniel shook his head, looked heavenwards and left with Taz at his heels.

Thursday morning found Daniel's lorry parked up in the disused timber yard beyond Forester's Cottage. From there, William picked him up just before nine thirty in a small white hatchback that had seen better days. Taz was spending the day with Jenny and the kids.

Daniel had been at the yard a quarter of an hour and had used the time to effect a minor transformation to his appearance with the aid of some instant tan, a beanie and a pair of black-rimmed spectacles. Thankfully, the day wasn't too hot and a baseball jacket completed the look. William's face, when he leaned across to push open the passenger door of the car, was a picture.

‘My God! I nearly didn't stop,' he exclaimed. ‘If I hadn't expected you to be here, I'd never have recognized you.'

‘Objective accomplished, then,' Daniel observed. ‘I've got a couple of bits here for you. It's just in case we get caught on camera. I don't intend to, but it never hurts to be prepared.'

‘Is that really a false moustache?' William asked gleefully. ‘Crazy! Can I wear that?'

‘You can – it's your colour. Now get that hair tied back out the way, it's a dead giveaway.'

Five minutes later, in a baseball cap and a denim waistcoat, Daniel judged William to be sufficiently disguised to fool a casual glance, which was all that was needed. He had no intention of subjecting either of them to close scrutiny by the enemy, if he could help it.

As William drove them towards the village, he was practically buzzing with excitement, and for the first two hours that they sat in the car in the lane that ran behind Boyd's Salvage Spares, he continuously fidgeted and checked his mobile phone.

‘It's not going to ring any sooner for you looking at it,' Daniel observed with amusement. William had asked his assistant, Amy, to let him know as soon as the power went off.

‘But they said between half nine and half three, and it's nearly twelve already.'

‘So, it might not go off until two – or even not at all. Be patient.'

‘How can you just sit there and do those damn things?'

Daniel raised his eyes from a book of Sudoku puzzles.

‘Cos it's better than doing nothing.'

‘But the waiting's driving me mad!'

‘If you'd spent as many hours on obs as I have, you'd have learned patience. Many's the time I've sat in a car or an empty building for days, and at the end of it all nothing has happened. All part of the job.'

‘Have you got the camera?'

Daniel slapped his forehead dramatically. ‘Gee, no! I knew there was something I meant to bring  . . . Of
course
I've got it. Now, stop stressing, will you?'

Procuring the camera had been as easy as Daniel had predicted. After wading through an endless list of surveillance equipment on eBay, he chose a medium-priced outfit and contacted the seller, who was willing to send his order with next-day delivery. Within an hour the deal was done.

Another few minutes passed, during which William fiddled with the car's ancient stereo system and failed to find decent reception. When the long-anticipated call finally did come, he jumped as if he'd been given an electric shock. Fumbling with shaking fingers, he put the phone to his ear.

‘OK, thanks, Amy,' he said almost immediately, before ending the call and looking at Daniel with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. ‘The power's just gone off.'

‘OK. Let's get to it, then,' Daniel said. ‘We don't know how long we've got.'