Spanish Inquisition (6 page)

‘And Maria?'

‘Last we saw of her she was heading backstage again, calling to Bill that she had a quick call on her mobile to make and she wouldn't be long.'

‘You didn't offer her a lift?'

‘She had her own transport. Saw it in the car park as we drove off.'

Excited by what she was being told, Heather asked, ‘Any other vehicles still there?'

‘Only Jensen's clapped-out Volvo.'

So, witnesses to the fact that Phil had driven away from the Centre! Not electrifying, but it was a start. All that was needed now was confirmation that his vehicle had arrived outside the Sergeants' Mess and remained there during the vital period.

Broderick was showing his impatience to return to directing his class. ‘Is that it, then?'

‘Where did you go after leaving the theatre?'

‘Took the girls home.'

‘Without stopping en route?' she asked caustically.

He gave the cheeky grin again. ‘No need. Manda's mum is a fun-loving woman. We continued the party at her place until the neighbours began thumping on the wall.'

‘What time was that?'

The grin developed into a chuckle. ‘She had one of those Swiss cuckoo clocks. It cuckooed three times as we were leaving. We were all pissed enough by then to cuckoo outside the neighbours' window until their bedroom light came on. Then we scarpered.'

‘Pity,' thought Heather. Too late for them to have witnessed Norton's struggle to reach the RMP Post. However, Broderick had shed light on some new slants. There had been no offer of a lift, Norton had her own means of getting wherever she intended to go after her phone call, she had made a call on her mobile before she left the Centre – it would be valuable to know to whom – and she had been left there alone with Bill Jensen. Did that make him a suspect?

Leaving the gymnasium, Heather sat in her car to review all she knew about Bill Jensen. Retiring as a senior warrant officer, part of whose responsibility was management of the Recreation Centre, Bill had applied to continue doing just that as a civilian. He was married to a German ballet teacher who owned a house in town, and he was interested in the Arts. His application had been approved. He still ran the Centre and was still regarded by those who used it as a formidable sergeant major. It worked well.

Heather knew him as a man of principle, well liked and respected, but one never could tell what lay beneath a person's facade and he had been alone with a promiscuous young woman wearing a torn dress in the early hours. Had Bill watched Maria night after night in the guise of Carmen and lusted after her? He was of an age when many men felt driven to prove their virility was not waning. The one question mark in that theory was why Norton would accuse Phil Piercey in order to protect a man old enough to be her father.

At that stage in her thoughts her friend Connie called to tell her Maria Norton had absconded. Using their pet name for Tom, she added, ‘Blackie's trying to decide if this action is equivalent to withdrawing her charge against Phil. He's busy studying regs to find out.'

‘No need for that, just ask the Boss. He'll know. He's also itching to get back in the saddle, and I'd feel happier if he resumed command rather than mooch about on the sidelines. My gran maintains there's nothing worse than a man dithering about with not enough to occupy him, and I agree with her. Let's work on it.'

Olly Simpson was gradually working down the list of people living in the block overlooking the Sergeants' Mess parking area. A number had been absent yesterday on a weekend pass or on a Sunday excursion. There were four men still to be approached when the person he was questioning added complications which were unwelcome.

They were standing in a massive clothing store where Private ‘Jimmy' James worked for Headquarter Company. A man in his thirties who had never earned promotion, he was content with his lot, as he explained before Simpson could put the vital questions.

‘Did an apprenticeship with a firm of bespoke tailors, Sarge, but never got no further than rolling up the cloth shown to the customers and putting them back in the cabinets. I took a pride in them never having a crease or a crumple when they was next unrolled along the counter. Immaculate they was. And I always stacked them according to colours and shades of colours. Mr McAuley often sang my praises, saying as how the shop looked so smart and orderly it lured in even those gentlemen who were most fastidious.

‘I used to deliver the items in the liveried van, if the customer didn't want to carry them away when finished. I enjoyed that. Saw some posh houses if they asked me to step inside.' He grinned. ‘Usually got a tip. More than tuppence, I can tell you.'

Bored with this second day of interviewing, Simpson let the man ramble on and eventually asked why he had left the job he so enjoyed.

‘Ah well, seeing all those grand houses and overhearing what the gentlemen said to Mr Parkes, the fitter, it struck me that I ought to see some of them foreign places they operated in. So I enlisted.' He waved an arm at the shelves bearing every item of kit a soldier needed. ‘Got the best of both worlds, haven't I? Seeing Germany where me grandad fought, way back, and I can lay me finger on any item in here quicker than three minutes. What more could I ask for?'

‘With that kind of attention to detail you might be the person SIB is looking for,' Simpson told him.

‘No, Sarge, I don't think I'd like policing.'

Unsure whether to be amused or insulted by this stolid man's misapprehension, Simpson said, ‘As a witness, man. Did you happen to notice Sergeant Piercey return to the Sergeants' Mess late on Saturday night?'

James beamed. ‘It was more like Sundee morning. See, I enjoy watching the late night TV film on Satdee. Then, because it's nearly always violent or a horror movie, I go out for a little walk round before turning in. Can't sleep otherwise. Film ends just after one and I plan to walk for around fiteen minutes, so it was as I turned the corner coming back that I saw him drive up and go straight in. Mind you,' he added thoughtfully, ‘it was his wheels, but the bloke who got from it was wearing some kind of fancy dress. Can't swear it was him, but he looked the right height and weight.' He nodded wisely. ‘I can gauge it very accurately, after being in the business so long.'

‘It was him,' Simpson assured him, feeling elated. Phil had an alibi!

‘Then he went out again ten minutes later.'

‘What?'

James nodded. ‘Saw from my window the car being backed out. Then it speeded off around the perimeter road. Came here to change, I s'pose. Wherever he was going he was in a bleeding hurry.'

Piercey was about to call Beeny's mobile to suggest they meet in the NAAFI for a snack lunch, when there was a knock and his door opened.

‘Come to escort me when I go to eat?' he jokingly asked his colleague.

‘You'll notice I'm not smiling,' said Simpson curtly. ‘The entire team's out seeking a witness who can give you an alibi. I've just found one, but he turns out to be a witness for the prosecution.'

Piercey frowned. ‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘There's no suppose about it, Phil. It means what I said.'

Piercey's temper rose. ‘A lying witness! I
didn't
beat her up.' He had just been forced to reveal to his boss some intimate details of his passionate response to Maria's callous rejection and now wanted to draw a veil over that business in the dressing room, but Olly was raking it up again. ‘Who is this witness?'

Simpson perched on the small desk. ‘A certain Private James of HQ Company, who lives opposite you. He saw you arrive there in your Spanish outfit.'

‘Great!' he exclaimed. ‘Can he pinpoint the time?'

‘Almost to the minute.'

‘There you are, then,' he crowed, getting up from his chair. ‘I'm off the hook, mate.'

‘He then saw you go out again ten minutes later.'

‘
What
?' He flung out his arm. ‘I sat on my bed and made inroads to a six-pack until Babs and Jeff arrived. Maria dobbed me in to protect someone. I suppose I can understand that, but why should this HQ bloke also point the finger?' Pushing a hand through his hair in agitation, he asked, ‘How can he have seen me leave when I didn't? Tell me that.'

Looking uneasy, Simpson said, ‘He claims to have seen your Audi go off hell for leather along the perimeter road.'

‘He mistook it for another vehicle.'

‘No, he saw the one you drove in being backed from that same parking bay ten minutes later.'

Feeling as if the breath had been knocked from him, Piercey slowly lowered himself on the bed. ‘Is he prepared to swear to it?'

‘I'm afraid so.'

All thought of going somewhere for a snack vanished as he sat staring into space. ‘That evidence won't exactly put me in the frame. He's saying I was out in my car during the vital period, that's all. It won't prove I committed the assault.'

‘They'll find your DNA all over her clothes,' Simpson pointed out quietly.

‘And the DNA of whoever did it.'

‘His, too, but they won't have him to make a comparison with.'

‘The way they can with me,' he murmured heavily. ‘God, I wish I'd never met that bloody woman.'

‘The cry of many a despairing man.' Simpson allowed a short pause before asking, ‘Phil, did you go out again?'

‘No.' If it sounded less than vehement it was because his thoughts were racing. ‘Someone hijacked my car. I was so worked up when I left the theatre I couldn't get to the anonymity of my room fast enough.' He glanced up at his colleague. ‘I left the keys in the ignition. Made it easy, didn't I? That James idiot saw the vehicle, but he didn't tell you he saw me get in it, did he?' Simpson's negative shake of his head led him to sigh with satisfaction. ‘No, so the Boss'll make short work of any suggestion of involvement based on such vague evidence.' He frowned. ‘Unless it was Maria who drove my car away, which is bloody unlikely, there's someone else determined to stitch me up. When Babs and Jeff hauled me off, my car was exactly where I'd left it an hour or so before. They were witnesses to the fact.
Solid
witnesses!' He sighed heavily. ‘D'you understand what's behind all this, because I sure as hell don't.'

Before Simpson could reply, his mobile rang. He took a brief call while gazing at Piercey throughout. When it ended, he said, ‘That was Connie. Seems Maria Norton has gone, taking all her possessions. The guard at the gate says she drove from the base at around oh nine thirty, then left her car just short of the junction with the autobahn and transferred to a waiting taxi. It took his attention because he thought it was odd behaviour. Her car's being brought in.'

Feeling that he was caught up in some extravagant work of fiction, Piercey said incredulously, ‘She's
deserted
?'

‘Wardrobe and drawers empty, apparently. I'd say it means she doesn't intend coming back, wouldn't you?'

‘But . . . I was told she was so badly hurt she was recovering in the Medical Centre. How can she have . . .? Olly, she's obviously involved in something beyond her control.'

‘Drugs?' Simpson's eyes narrowed. ‘I've never met the woman, but you're familiar enough with the signs and knew her intimately. Sorry, wrong word. You'd have read the signs, or were you so dazzled, mate, they passed unnoticed?'

Ignoring the jibe, Piercey shook his head. ‘She wasn't a user, but she could well have popped a tab before each performance. I could equate her vitality on stage with a little help from E. She was
electric
.' He remembered his response to her provocation; the response of all the males in the cast. ‘You didn't see the show, did you?'

‘Not my scene. So, what if she just bought enough to get her through rehearsals and the four performances, then refused to buy more? Or failed to keep up the payments. The pusher beats her up, threatens to leak to us that she's been using on a large scale unless she pays what she owes. She does a runner.'

Piercey shook his head once more. ‘Ecstasy's recreational, that's all. Not serious enough for that scenario. Besides, how would that lead the pusher to involve me, because someone took my car, kept it during the significant time of the assault, then returned it before Babs and Jeff arrived to take me in.'

‘OK, so use that hypothesis in a different direction, Phil. Norton's injuries couldn't have been self-inflicted, and surely wouldn't have been willingly suffered as part of a plan to damage you, because she's pregnant. So tell me why she named you, and why your car was driven away then returned in the early hours of Sunday morning.'

Piercey stared back at him in cold anger. ‘Because I came here to change my stage costume for a dark track suit, then drove back to wait for her to leave the Recreation Centre so I could give her a good going over for treating me like dirt.'

‘Exactly.' Simpson slid from his perch on the desk and gave a faint smile. ‘Luckily, your victim has scarpered, so we can't take her charge any further. How about some lunch? There's steak and kidney duff on the menu in the Mess today.'

Tom called in every member of the team, including Piercey, after allowing them time for lunch. After checking regulations he was left feeling intensely irritated. Regardless of the apparent desertion of Corporal Maria Norton, the case against Piercey could not be dropped. An official charge against him had been made and would remain on record until it was fully investigated, or until it was withdrawn. However, there was no reason why the accused man could not perform limited duties while the case was on hold.

Once they had gathered together, Tom listened to what had been learned from those who had been questioned during the morning, and summed up the evidence so far.

‘First of all, we have to take on board the fact that much of what Norton told me was untrue or exaggerated, which casts doubt on her accusation. We now have evidence of another person being involved in the events of Saturday night and Sunday morning, when Piercey's car was moved around without his knowledge. There are two obvious explanations. Either it was part of a campaign against him, or someone saw him park the vehicle and decided to borrow it for a purpose in no way connected to the attack on Maria Norton.'