The Cedar Face: DI Jewell book 3 (DI Elizabeth Jewell) (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After they
left Elizabeth felt dazed. Her legs moved automatically but she
couldn't feel them. This is stupid, she thought, especially
after all these months. Granted, her feelings for Calbrain had
chopped and changed depending on her mood and workload. That
aspect she understood. Resentment towards him had lingered like a
sickness until recently. So why feel shocked, no, outraged even?
Calbrain had pursued her and the simple answer was she
wouldn't commit, so he'd given up and found
someone else.

One thing she was certain of. He wouldn'
t have looked twice at Francisca Montero if she'd
said yes more often. The one night she'd stayed
in his Bristol apartment had stayed fixed in her memory.
She had every opportunity to repeat the experience but had
always resisted. Is this why I feel as if an
express train has just hit me? When will I learn
my lesson with men?

Moving as if in a dream
she made it back to where she'd left her
coffee and bent to retrieve the cup. The contents were
cold but she drank it anyway, hoping a caffeine hit
might cure her addled brain. She sat for ten minutes
until the craving for a cigarette overcame her sluggishness. Everything
appeared blurred as she dropped the empty paper cup into
a bin. Her eyes always bothered her when she was
upset or stressed and although she kept reading glasses in
her bag, the distance pair stayed in the car because
she couldn't drive without them.

Outside the court a
strong wind whipped her hair across her eyes. The temperature
had dropped and she sheltered against the wall before lighting
a cigarette. By the time she reached the car she
felt slightly better. Her first instinct was to drive straight
to Park Road and find Patterson. She'd confided in
him about Calbrain and wanted to tell him this latest
news but knew she would probably change her mind. Her
personal life was constantly under scrutiny and if Yeats discovered
a weakness he'd use it to further undermine her.
Patterson had made his peace with Calbrain and often called
by his business premises to see his part time secretary,
Hannah, so would find out soon enough about the Montero
woman. Elizabeth trusted his discretion; he probably wouldn't even
mention he knew.

She glanced at the quayside again. A
place she'd never had time to explore. Overhead the
ominous dark clouds were breaking up to allow brief spells
of sunshine. Elizabeth crossed the car park and headed towards
the well-preserved example of a Victorian port where renovated
warehouses and other dock-related buildings had become thriving museums
and retail outlets. Ships had once discharged their cargoes alongside
the historical buildings. Now the water was busy with visiting
narrow boats and smart motor cruisers. Further along, the waterways
museum caught her eye. Occupying three floors of the old
Llanthony Warehouse, the museum featured life on Britain's inland
waterways. Outside by the quay, Elizabeth spotted an old steam
dredger. She turned her head to the south of the
main docks area and saw the new shopping mall. According
to an old friend who was forever buying clothes it
was worth a visit. When she'd had enough of
culture, she'd try a little retail therapy.

For the
next hour the museum held her attention preventing Calbrain from
dominating her thoughts. The initial shock and hurt had started
to ease and the need for another coffee drove her
to the shopping mall. Cut-price designer outlets lined the
wide arcade; she stopped to glance in several windows but
wasn't tempted to go inside. Instead, an independent cafe
offering homemade soup and simple meals seemed a better option.
While she waited for her order, she checked her phone
and noticed three missed calls from Patterson.

He picked up
quickly. 'I was beginning to think you might have handed
in your resignation without telling me,' he said, sounding stressed.

'
Don't be stupid Tony. Why would I resign and
then keep an appointment at the CPS? I switched the
phone off while I was with this new district prosecutor.
She took her time over the file and isn't
optimistic on the full charge unless we can prove they'
ve falsified their business accounts. So we'll start with
the Inland Revenue and request information under the Proceeds from
Crime Act. Then I want you to contact Philip Younger.'

'
Who's he?'

'He's a forensic accountant working for
that big outfit in Montpelier.'

'Yeats won't like spending
that kind of money.'

Elizabeth wondered why Patterson sometimes put
a dampener on her decisions. 'Well he's going to
have to; otherwise I'll ring up my best friend
the Chief Constable and warn him of an imminent BDSM
scandal, possibly involving some of his cronies.'

'How will this
Philip Younger bloke go about spotting inconsistencies in their accounts?'

Elizabeth continued. 'A forensic accountant concentrates on quantifying losses or
spotting cover ups. Then he looks for unusual transaction patterns
and odd similarities. From what I've read, if this
points to coincidental figures it can indicate fraud.'

'Where are
you now?' Patterson asked.

'I'm having a coffee in
the mall.'

Patterson said, 'I've just thought of another
angle. I bet the Faraday's bribed people to keep
quiet about the parties.'

'Start on that straightaway.’ Elizabeth was
about to hang up when she remembered he'd tried
to contact her three times. 'Sorry, I forgot to ask
why you phoned.'

'Katie Gardiner's managing the incident room
and I'm relegated to the coalbunker, but the main
reason I called is Eldridge says Yeats is keen to
charge Morven for Wilson's murder.'

Elizabeth was shocked at
the speed of events. 'Did Eldridge mention if all the
forensics are in yet?'

'I didn't get the chance.
He was in a hurry and full of himself as
usual.'

'It's too soon. What the hell is Yeats
playing at?'

'He's under pressure. There are more damaging
headlines.’

The bastard, she thought. Kicking Tony into the dingy
claustrophobic office meant Yeats was determined to keep up the
pressure. She finished the coffee and tried to stay calm.

She heard Patterson shout in her ear. 'Speak to me
Liz.'

'Sorry, I was miles away. 'I'm on my
way back to hand in the start of my report
on meeting targets. I did some last night yesterday, for
all the good it will do.'

Elizabeth left the shopping
mall and headed for the Saab. A clear blue sky
and the sun's warmth lifted her spirits slightly. She
unlocked the car and opened the driver's window to
clear the condensation. Gulls swooped across the car park in
search of food, their raucous cries unsettling her. The question
of Calbrain's defection had crept back into her mind.
Simply put, he’d moved on rather than stick around
hoping she'd forgive him. Elizabeth had no choice but
to acknowledge she'd made a fatal mistake, assuming he'
d wait forever.

'I'm pleased for you Nick.' Elizabeth
said out loud as she negotiated her way out of
the busy car park. 'And I won't wish your
marriage plans fall apart.'

At the roundabout on the A46,
she stopped for petrol. As she approached the counter to
pay, she caught sight of her face in an overhead
mirror. Elizabeth stopped and smiled at her reflection.

Not worried about anyone watching her, she smiled and said. 'He’s
her
problem now, not yours.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The phone
rang seconds after he'd ended his previous call. Yeats
was surprised to hear it was Belfast's Chief Constable
and for a brief moment felt a surge of panic
.

'Yeats. Calling to see how you're settling in. I
haven't spoken to you since you took over. I
realise it's early days but I'm keen to
know how this school murder case is going?'

Yeats was
quick to reply. 'Everything's fine Sir. We're making
progress.'

'No one giving you a hard time, I hope
.'

'Not so far,' Yeats lied. 'A decent bunch, albeit slow
at times, but then in this area everything goes slow
, even the supermarket queues.'

He heard the familiar chuckle. 'That
's how it is in rural parts.'

Yeats realised he
'd forgotten his manners. 'How are you Sir?'

'Extremely well
thank you. Let's go back to you, no problems
to report, and you're settled? Not home sick I
hope?'

'No Sir,' Yeats said. 'You have nothing to worry
about.'

'That's good to hear. I know you're
busy but keep me updated from time to time.'

Afterwards
Yeats felt agitated. He hadn't expected Belfast's Chief
Constable to keep in touch, only his immediate boss. Maybe
the CC regretted his decision to send him to Gloucestershire
, and that could only mean one thing. Someone who'd
gone off the radar for a while was back on
the scene. His head whirred with possibilities, most of which
he didn't want to think about. Yeats opened the
desk drawer and took out a slim white box. He
removed a single foil strip and pressed the raised area
to release the pill then swallowed it. His energy level
had dropped and he wished he could go for a
gruelling fifteen-mile run. The problem was he couldn't
do that, not today or at any time while he
was stuck in Gloucestershire. Even if he'd known the
area like the back of his hand, it was still
out of the question.

After they told him about the
move, he'd familiarised himself with every snippet of information
on his future colleagues. Knowing they'd view him as
an unwelcome outsider he'd prepared for a hostile reaction
. The reasoning behind his shift to the mainland focused on
Cheltenham's CID needing a shakeup.

'It will do you
good to get away from this city after everything that
's happened,' the Chief Constable had told Yeats.

To date
Yeats hadn't suffered any physical or mental problems during
his nineteen year career. He'd always prided himself on
his strength of will, his fearlessness and very rarely doubted
his own judgement. Moving to England would definitely pose a
challenge, but not one he relished. His familiarity with the
UK extended to London and Yorkshire. He had never visited
the West Country. Cheltenham, to him was home to the
Gold Cup and as he wasn't a betting man
had no desire to visit the place.

At first he
'd balked at the idea and demanded. 'Why send me
to a country backwater? If I have to go England
, make it a big city where I can utilise my
experience and skills. Deal with crimes I'm experienced at
solving.’

The Chief Constable's answer hadn't convinced him
. 'This is not about solving crimes; it's a caretaker
's job, so see it as a different kind of
challenge. You'll have time to recharge your batteries before
you totally burn out. By the end of the year
you'll be ready to move up and take on
more responsibility here.'

'What's happened to force this vacancy
?' he asked.

'DCS Daly's suffered family and health issues
. Apparently he burned out. It's easily done, so be
warned.'

'Did you know him personally?' Yeats had asked.

'No
. He was due to retire then turned stubborn. Gloucestershire's
CC had a long-standing battle with Daly. I imagine
he wanted shot of him and found a sideways move
. This is probably why Daly hasn't contacted any of
his colleagues, he's too ashamed. The thing is, CID
doesn't seem to know where he is either. Whether
or not it's a deliberate ploy so Daly can
free himself from the place once and for all, I
'm undecided. All I know is they need someone urgently
, someone entirely different to Daly and that's where you
come in.'

Yeats had thought of refusing, but as time
wore on and the pressure increased, it seemed he didn
't have a choice. On a bad day, paranoia overtook
him and suspicions about the real motives for sending him
here played on his mind. Was it a case of
simple blackmail? If you don't go we'll have
to think again about your future. So far he'd
been lucky, so in the end he hadn't argued
, instead tried to focus on this new but temporary life
.

A month before he was due to leave Belfast he
started to feel impatient to go. He spent time researching
Cheltenham and the surrounding areas. He was a city man
and the countryside held no appeal. Finding a place to
live proved difficult because he needed an isolated spot for
obvious reasons. After a thorough search of the local estate
agents he'd found a two hundred year old detached
Cotswold stone property surrounded by a six foot perimeter fence
. The garden was like a forest, overgrown trees and shrubs
protected the house from prying eyes. Once he installed an
up to date security system it would suit him perfectly
. He'd lived on his own for so long that
isolation didn't bother him. It also meant if anyone
in Northern Ireland came looking for him, they'd find
it difficult.

Ten minutes later Liam Yeats closed Elizabeth's
personal police file. The week before leaving Belfast he'd
checked her out. His first impression of Jewell wasn't
favourable. Reading about her he came to the conclusion she
was weak. One of those officers easily swayed and with
questionable judgement. What he did find strange was although she
was undoubtedly an extremely attractive woman he felt no sexual
pull. Looking at the photograph he appreciated her beauty but
it left him cold. As for the Wilson case, he
'd already decided to bring both her and Patterson back
on board. The Chief Crown Prosecutor wanted her on the
case and her handling of the Faraday business would bring
a newsworthy conviction for which he could take full credit
. Regarding the BDSM angle, she'd built an excellent case
in an area of crime where the laws were ambiguous
. Although he didn't trust her, where Jewell was concerned
the old adage, keep your friends close and your enemies
closer made sense. If the last nineteen years had taught
him anything, it was never to totally trust anyone.

Yeats
glanced at the ship's clock, the only item belonging
to Daly he hadn't replaced. He hadn't broached
the subject of Daly's whereabouts with anyone yet, that
could wait for a while. In the meantime, he looked
forward to playing games with Jewell. Creating confusion was a
powerful psychological ploy.