Poisoned Ground: A Hakim and Arnold Mystery (Hakim & Arnold Mystery 3) (18 page)

‘See ya.’

She ended the call and took her car keys out of her bag. Shirley had sounded panicky on the phone. She didn’t want to make her wait.

*

DI Cobbett finished reading Lee’s statement and put it down on the table in front of him.

‘That’s all I know,’ Lee said.

‘Shane Warner is known to us,’ Cobbett said. ‘And if the old chap was in deep to him he was in trouble.’

‘Ken Rivers had always been a gambler and so when his wife was suffering from dementia he decided he’d have some fun,’ Lee said. ‘He sold the flat to Warner and then rented it out from him so he could stay here.’

‘Happy days.’

‘Until gambling took a hand,’ Lee said.

Cobbett shrugged.

‘And I tell you something, DI Cobbett, I’ve seen a few punters lose at craps, cards, the gee-gees or whatever over the years, but I’ve never witnessed anyone lose as easily and comprehensively
as Ken Rivers. To say it’s a talent is an understatement. Money fell out of his hands.’

‘And still he believed that he could beat the house?’

‘He went along last night with his last three grand and lost it.’

‘No doubt attempting to double it.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Lee said. ‘His rent is due today. That gorilla I saw outside his house yesterday was going to come back.’

‘Which he hasn’t, for obvious reasons,’ Cobbett said.

‘You lot don’t tend to be popular.’

‘You must remember it well.’ Cobbett smiled.

‘I’m not exactly flavour of the month now,’ Lee said. ‘If you do think about becoming a PI when you retire, DI Cobbett, don’t expect to make friends or influence too many people.’

Cobbett looked down at the statement again. ‘Did you ever meet Bette Rivers?’

‘Not that I know of,’ Lee said. ‘As I said in my statement, I knew Phil Rivers’ old boss, Brian Barber, but I never came across Phil himself.’

‘Mmm. We’ll have to talk to the ex-wife,’ Cobbett said.

‘Sandra Rivers just wants Phil back. She doesn’t want him prosecuted,’ Lee said.

‘Sandra Rivers will have to lump it,’ Cobbett said. ‘I’ve got a dead body and a missing man who is guilty of assault. If she knows something she’s not telling anyone …’

‘She wants Phil found,’ Lee said. ‘She’s not hiding anything.’

‘Maybe not deliberately.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, Mr Arnold, that even though Mrs Rivers might have no direct knowledge of her husband’s homosexuality she might know some of the men her husband befriended over the
years. She probably thinks they were just mates. We need to speak to her.’

‘To tell her that her husband is gay?’

‘What’s the point of not doing so?’ Cobbett said. ‘It could have a bearing on her husband’s crime or her father-in-law’s disappearance. I’m interested in the latter and I’ll use every bit of intel I can get my hands on to throw some light on that.’

Lee recalled Sandra Rivers’ fragile fatness and he wondered how long Cobbett’s information would take to destroy her.

Cobbett stood up. ‘Anyway, I’m doing it,’ he said. ‘As for you, Mr Arnold, if you can stay in the area tonight I should be in a position to send you back to London tomorrow. In the morning we should be able to have some sort of idea about who the corpse is and how they died.’

When he got outside, now armed with an old handset provided by one of the Southend constables, Lee rang Derek Salmon and told him everything. Most of the time the solicitor just listened in seemingly stunned silence. But when Lee got to the part about what the police wanted to tell Sandra Rivers he squeaked, ‘You what? They can’t do that!’

‘They can and they are.’

‘But it could send her over the edge,’ he said. ‘You’ve seen the state of her! She’ll probably eat her own weight in chocolate and then stuff down a couple of sixteen-inch pizzas. She’ll end up bloody diabetic! I’ll have to be with her when they come.’

‘Well, you are her solicitor.’

‘She’ll need me.’

‘Derek, did you know that Phil Rivers was gay?’ Lee asked.

‘Me? No! Why would I?’

‘I don’t know. The police may ask you.’

‘Well, they can ask what they like, it’s news to me,’ he said.

‘I was just saying.’

Derek sighed. ‘I know. God, Lee, this job has turned out to be a bloody can of worms, hasn’t it?’

‘Sandra should have just gone for the jugular,’ Lee said. ‘Then she’d know where Phil was.’

‘Behind bars.’

‘Where he should be.’

There was a pause and then the solicitor said, ‘Just keep me in the loop, OK, mate?’

‘Will do.’

Lee ended the call. What he hadn’t told Derek or anyone else was that the pain he was experiencing was giving him more than just discomfort. When he’d been in hospital the doctor had given him a load of codeine-based painkillers to take home. He’d thrown a lot away. So far he hadn’t taken any of those that remained. Like any addiction, abstinence was a day-to-day struggle and opiate meds were seductive. Two co-codomol and he could be out of pain and off his nut in less than half an hour. He hadn’t indulged for years and so the high would be tremendous. Lee put his hand in his pocket and then, just as quickly, he withdrew it. Weak he may be, but he wasn’t stupid. He also had yet to go back to Susan’s place. She had to be worried, particularly as she appeared to be so keen on him. Why he hadn’t phoned her, he didn’t really know.

‘Dylan Smith has been beaten black and blue,’ Shirley said.

‘That’s Tim Pool for you.’

They all looked at Roy, who continued, ‘Deprived me of a couple of teeth.’

‘But you said nothing.’

‘Course not.’

Mandy took Roy’s hand. She said, ‘You don’t. So if Dylan Smith’s withdrawn his complaint you’ll have to respect his wishes, Shirley. We’re there for the service users. We do what they want.’

‘Pool’ll do something worse if Dylan goes ahead,’ Roy said.

Mumtaz didn’t know what she could contribute to the discussion. Shirley had asked her to come in and she’d come. But to do what? Shirley looked genuinely upset that she couldn’t take this service user’s complaint any further. When Shirley went to the toilet, Mandy spoke up.

‘I think that Shirley’s changing,’ she said. ‘Don’t know why. She’s always been for a quiet life but now it’s like she’s on a mission. All of a sudden.’

‘You don’t know why?’

‘No. If she upsets too many people Mr Cotton’ll get rid of her. And she’s got a mortgage.’

‘But representing the service users is her job,’ Mumtaz said. ‘She must’ve known it carried risks when she took it?’

Roy shrugged.

Shirley returned. ‘I’m not going to give up on Dylan Smith and I’m not going to let those service users on Forensic live in fear any longer.’

‘Who you gonna get to help you?’ Roy asked. ‘Batman?’

‘No, but I’d like to introduce you to someone who can help us without the aid of a silly costume,’ Shirley said. Then she called out into the corridor, ‘Would you like to come in now?’

She was little more than a girl. Blonde and small, she wore a baseball cap and a thick woollen scarf that obscured half her face.

‘Denna has been doing nights on Forensic,’ Shirley said.

‘I’ve not seen you here before,’ Mandy said.

‘I’ve only been at Ilford, on and off, for just over a month,’ Denna said. She had a light, boyish voice. ‘I’m agency.’

‘But she’s seen enough,’ Shirley said.

‘Smith got beaten by another patient,’ Denna said. ‘On Pool’s orders.’

‘How do you know that?’ Mumtaz asked.

‘The patient, Moran, was allowed to go outside for a smoke in the early hours of the morning,’ Denna said. ‘That just doesn’t happen, especially not on Tim’s shifts. He hates smoking.’

‘I can see that’s unusual, but what does that prove?’ Mumtaz asked.

‘Moran is a very violent man. His index offence is murder.’

‘Him I do know,’ Roy said. ‘He killed his flatmate and then cut him up and put him in dustbin bags.’

‘When I saw him outside I noticed that Moran’s knuckles were swollen,’ Denna said. ‘At dinner time they hadn’t been.’

‘So? Maybe he thumped a wall,’ Mandy said. ‘Self-harm.’

‘Yeah, I’d accept that,’ Denna said, ‘if Moran hadn’t spoken to me. His cigarette lighter wouldn’t work and so I lent him mine. I could see he wanted me to ask him how he’d managed to get extra smoking privileges from Tim. They’re as rare as hen’s teeth and are trophies on the unit. He kept me on tenterhooks as long as he could. Then he said, “I’m here because I helped Mr Pool out with a problem.” And then he smiled at me and I just felt sick. I’d heard one of my colleagues, can’t say who, sobbing earlier outside the patients’ rooms. I confronted her.’

‘And?’

‘She told me that Smith was in a bad way. She didn’t say why and I didn’t ask her. As soon as I could I went to see Smith who was in a right state,’ Denna said. ‘I gave him a couple of painkillers for his pain – it was all I could do in the short time that I had.’ She looked at Shirley. ‘Then I came to see you. I can’t tell you whether I’ll make a formal statement yet. I’ll have to think about it. But I want to.’

Staff members were in an invidious position when it came to whistle-blowing. If they weren’t believed, they found work elsewhere hard to get.

‘It’s OK,’ Shirley said. ‘I’ve made a request for one of the doctors to examine Dylan Smith. Dr el Masri has agreed to do it.’

The sudden mention of el Masri’s name brought Mumtaz up short. He was the real reason she was at Ilford Hospital. It was so easy to get distracted in this toxic environment. She looked at her phone and saw that she had an appointment with el Masri at five-thirty.

‘He won’t find anything,’ Mandy said. ‘They never do.’

‘Then I’ll get an independent doctor from outside,’ Shirley said. ‘We’re entitled to do that.’

‘Only if Dylan agrees to be examined, which he won’t,’ Roy said. ‘Shirley, he don’t want us to help, so we can’t. It’s great that Denna’s come forward and that but you can’t do nothing unless Dylan lets you.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Shirley said.

Mumtaz remembered what Mandy had said about Shirley being ‘on a mission’ and couldn’t help wondering if she realized just how dangerous the game she was playing might get. If Timothy Pool could get one patient to half kill another one, and if Dr el Masri could plant a bomb in Hatem el Shamy’s locker – assuming those incidents had really happened – then almost anything was possible.

*

Susan hadn’t taken it well. Lee could have left bringing up her silent phone calls to Vi Collins for another time, but he’d decided to go ahead. At first she’d denied it. But she’d left her phone where he could get it. He’d shown her what she’d done.

‘You went behind my back!’ she said.

‘Pot? Kettle?’ Lee said. He was much more relaxed then he’d been for weeks but he also wasn’t in the mood for any crap. ‘Where’d you get Vi’s number, eh, Suze? Oh, off my phone, wasn’t it?’

She looked down at the floor. ‘I was so worried when you didn’t turn up this morning, Lee.’

‘Don’t change the subject,’ he said. He’d already told her where he’d been and something about what had happened. ‘This thing with Vi, what’s it about, eh? You jealous of her or something?’

Susan said nothing.

‘Because if you are,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to be. Vi’s a mate. We worked together in the police. We flirt a bit, we always have.’

‘She’s got it bad for you, Lee, believe me,’ Susan said. ‘Women know these things. What I did was wrong, but I just couldn’t help it. I don’t trust that woman.’

She was right not to. Lee knew that. Vi would sleep with him whenever she could. Although he hadn’t slept with her since he’d been with Susan. Should he own up to ever having had sex with her? Lee knew the answer to that.

‘Me and Vi are just friends. We always have been. We’ve never been anything more.’ He was a private detective, he knew how to lie.

‘You sure?’

‘What, that I’ve not slept with Vi? Suze, even I’d remember if I had.’

He sat down at the kitchen table. It was a wise move because he was dizzy and, although he’d expected it, it had made his stomach lurch. He’d lost so much of his tolerance. But when he thought about it, the guilt rolled in. ‘You don’t need to phone Vi again and I’d be grateful if you didn’t,’ he said.

She stayed silent for a moment and then she said, ‘I won’t.’ She looked up. ‘I’m sorry.’ Then she frowned. ‘Lee, you’re ever so white. You OK?’

Back in the old days he’d called it the ‘codeine white-out’ when the drug finally relaxed you and your face temporarily drained.

‘Just tired,’ he said. ‘And of course I hadn’t planned to spend most of the night with a dead body.’

‘Ugh.’ Susan sat beside him. ‘To think that Kenny …’

‘We don’t know what Ken did or didn’t do at the moment,’ Lee said. ‘We don’t even know the identity of the body.’

He hadn’t seen its face. But he had seen that hand, hanging out of the bed, moving to the rhythm of its maggots. He told
himself that that was the reason why he’d taken the tablets, even though he knew it wasn’t true.

‘So are you staying?’ she asked.

‘If you’ll let me,’ he said.

She kissed his cheek. She was a beautiful, sexy woman and he was lucky to have her. When she’d phoned Vi it had been done on the spur of the moment, it had been an aberration. Except that it hadn’t. Susan had phoned Vi several times and, much as he liked and fancied her, he had to keep that in his mind. The last thing Lee needed was a stalker, especially when the first person he always called when things went wrong or he needed support was Mumtaz. Sod the dead hand of whoever had been in Ken Rivers’ bed, it had been that realization that had tipped him over the edge. The codeine washed down his spine and relaxed it and Lee Arnold vowed never to take opiate-based painkillers ever again.

*

Derek Salmon arrived at Sandra Rivers’ house before the police. As soon as he was through the door she was asking him questions.

‘Have they found Phil?’ She nibbled on a chocolate eclair; a sure sign to Derek that she was stressed. ‘Is he all right? If they have found him, I don’t want him prosecuted. And why Southend Police? That’s where his dad and mum live. Where’s Lee Arnold and why hasn’t he—’

‘Sandra, Sandra, Sandra.’ Derek took one of her wrists in his hands and sat her down. ‘Listen, the police are coming to see you about your father-in-law,’ he said.

‘Ken?’

‘Yes, he’s gone missing.’ He told her about Ken’s gambling,
about what he’d done to Lee and he told her what the police had found in the flat.

Sandra rapidly finished the eclair. ‘It wasn’t Phil …’

‘No,’ he said. ‘But Ken’s gone AWOL. He hit Lee Arnold over the head and then locked him in that room with that body. Obviously something’s up, Sandra.’

‘But, Del, I don’t know anything about this!’

‘I know, I know,’ he said. He made calming motions with his hands. ‘But the police suspect that Ken may be with Phil. I think it’s unlikely but it is possible. Lee found no current connection between Ken and Phil but if Ken is as skint as we think he is, then if he knew where Phil and all his money were he’d go there. He might be there now. But the point is, Sandra, that the police are going to tell you something that you won’t like.’

Her eyes widened.

‘I should say up front that I don’t think for a moment that it’s true but … Sandra, there’s been a suggestion that Phil might have been gay.’

She didn’t look shocked so much as confused.

‘I think their reasoning is that they think that when Phil defrauded you he went off with a gay lover. Sandra, they’re going to ask you about any friends or acquaintances …’

‘He didn’t have any friends,’ she said. ‘He spent his time with me, or training or with his mum and dad. He used to go down the pub with Barry Barber, but that was years ago and Barry Barber’s married.’ Her eyes filled up. ‘What’s going on, Del?’

He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I sent Lee Arnold down to Southend to keep an eye on Ken and Bette and see if they made contact with Phil and then this happens.’

‘Bette! Where’s Bette then?’ Sandra asked. ‘Oh, Del!’

‘The dead body could be Bette,’ he said. ‘But, Sandra, before
you start imagining all sorts, you must remember that Bette was old and she had dementia. The police still don’t know if whoever it is died of natural causes or not.’

‘If it isn’t Bette, then who is it?’

‘I don’t know.’

Sandra shook her head. ‘How could anyone think that Phil was gay?’ she said. ‘He loved women. He loved me – once. Why do the police think that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But he wasn’t,’ she said. She stood up.

‘Sandra …’

‘I need to go to the kitchen,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Del, I should’ve offered you coffee. Would you like some coffee?’

‘Sandra, don’t …’

‘I’ll make you coffee,’ she said.

She walked into the kitchen, a large woman in a large Mary Portas dress in egg-yolk yellow. Derek felt wretched for her. But he sat and waited for his coffee, knowing what she was really doing.

The doorbell rang. Sandra had left the security gates open after Derek arrived. The police were at the front door. There was a pause. Had Sandra even heard it? Derek called out, ‘Sandra!’

But no one answered. The doorbell rang again. He walked into the kitchen. ‘Sandra there’s the—’

Derek Salmon stopped. On all fours, her considerable backside sticking up in the air, Sandra Rivers had her head inside her fridge. When he did finally manage to get her attention and she turned to face him, Derek saw that, from the mouth downwards, Sandra was covered in cream.

‘Oh, love,’ he said, ‘you’re gonna have to give this Phil thing up. It’s killing you.’

*

‘Nature or nurture?’

Mumtaz smiled. ‘Well, both,’ she said. ‘Any behavioural phenomenon has to come about via an interplay of genetic inheritance and experience.’

Dr el Masri, though physically unpleasant, had a certain charm that Mumtaz, to her surprise, found herself warming to.

‘That’s a very rational answer,’ he said. ‘But do you believe it?’

‘Why wouldn’t I? Nothing else makes sense.’

‘I mean, as a devout Muslim,’ he said. ‘How do you reconcile a scientific approach that allows for change with a faith of predeterminism like Islam?’

She put the ball back in his court. ‘I might ask you the same question,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘You might, and that would be valid, but not in relation to Islam.’

‘You’re not a Muslim?’ She had thought that even avowedly secular followers of President Mubarak would not openly deny also being good Muslims too.

‘I am a Copt,’ he said. ‘A Christian by upbringing. Not that I believe in all that.’

The Copts and their troubles in the new post-Mubarak Egypt had been in the press a lot. They claimed that instead of life getting easier in the new Egypt, for them it had become harder. The new rulers of the country, the Muslim Brotherhood Party, that Hatem el Shamy was a supporter of, were trying to make them conform to an Islamic way of life and there had been attacks on their places of worship. It was the sort of thing that made Mumtaz feel sad, sorry and uncomfortable all at the same time. Muslims all over the world had been put down, enslaved and attacked for centuries. Why were they doing the same to others? Had they learnt nothing?

‘Well?’ el Masri said. ‘You’re an intelligent woman, I want to hear what you think.’

‘About Islam and science? I take a view,’ she said.