The Murder Exchange (24 page)

'Do you think it's feasible that Neil Vamen could
be behind the murder of Shaun Matthews?'

'Be realistic, John. What have you got? The word
of a dead man/

'So, the name Jean Tanner doesn't actually mean
anything to you, then?'

He shook his head. 'Not off the top of my head,

no.'

I refused to give up. The don't see why McBride
would have been bullshitting. He said it was well
known that Neil Vamen played away from home.
Would that be right?'

'Well, it's certainly well known that Vamen has
.,,Stresses, but, like everything else in his life, he
likes to keep them as secret as possible. We put him
under surveillance whenever resources allow, and
we've photographed him with a number of women
other than his wife, but as far as I'm aware we've
only positively identified two, neither of whom
goes by the name Jean Tanner. What I'll do, though,
is go through what we've got back at HQ and I'll
email over the information, including any photos
we have of the women.'

I'm sure that whoever killed Matthews was also
responsible for the murder of Craig McBride,
although God knows why. To me, that level of
organization suggests someone like Neil Vamen.'

'But you haven't got much of a motive.'

'Not yet, no.'

'Whatever did happen, it wouldn't have been
Vamen inflicting the fatal dose, although I suppose

219
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admittedly, but still someone who's not going to
risk his position by committing rash crimes. And ~*
even if he had something to do with it, you're going
to have a sod of a time proving it.' J

I nodded wearily, having already heard this
several times. 'I know, I know. No-one ever said it «i
would be easy.' I stabbed a couple of sauteed " j
potatoes. 'It would be useful if I could find *j
Matthews's boss, Roy Fowler, as well. Do you ^ know anything about the ownership of this club, jfj
the Arcadia? I'm hearing that the Holtzes run it, but *
I've got nothing concrete.'

Malik shook his head. 'Not specifically. The
number of front companies they've got is incredible;
it has to be when you've constantly got ; i
millions of pounds to launder. I'll ask around i
within the team and see if they've heard anything,
but don't hold your breath.'

'So you don't have any informants within their „ '
organization, then?' -, i

For the first time during the course of the conversation,
Malik appeared cagey. 'I'm afraid that's
classified information, John, as you'd appreciate.'

'Well, if you do, I'd take it as a favour if you |
could ask the questions.' |t

Malik said he'd see what he could do. 'I'm sorry
if I'm not being too much help/ he added with a V i
sheepish smile. 1;

'It's a lunch's worth,' I said, 'and, anyway, I came 1

it's possible he could be behind it. Remember this,
though: he doesn't do things that are going to bring
attention on himself. In the end, unlike Krys, he's
first and foremost a businessman. A nasty one, *?

' ' ȴ I
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here more in hope than expectation. But if you can
get me that info on Vamen's associates and women,
I'd appreciate it. It might even be worth buying you
coffee for.'
Malik smiled. 'Now that's an offer I'll take you

up on.'

I ordered two coffees - a cappuccino for me, a
black filter for him - and the conversation drifted
on to other things, mainly what life was like back at
the station. I told him I didn't think he was missing
much: Capper was still a talentless arsehole, Knox
was still yearning for a detective superintendent
role, the chief super was still an idiot. We had a few
laughs about things, and found we got on pretty
wpll,. but soon Malik was looking at his watch and
sdying it was time to go.

We stood up at the same time, me a good four
inches taller, and shook hands.

'Good luck with the case, John,' he told me, 'but
be careful as well. The Holtzes, and Neil Vamen in
particular, are not people to mess about with. If it
came to it, they're not afraid to put a bullet in a
copper.'

Which is just the sort of uplifting advice you
need on a Wednesday afternoon.

Wednesday was Berrin's first day back at work
after his impromptu bout of summer flu, which
was the reason I hadn't allowed him to come on the lunch with Malik, but had instead got him reviewing
witness statements. He wasn't going to get a
decent meal on the Met when he'd spent the last
three days lolling about at home. The bastard

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looked quite brown, too, which made me
suspicious. When I got back to the station that afternoon
he was doing an interview with a man who'd
been arrested for possession of eight hundred
quid's worth of counterfeit currency. Apparently
there'd been no other CID available, and such was
the quality of the fakes it was thought appropriate
that there was plainclothes representation when
Ihey were talking to him.

While I waited for him to come out of his interview,
I wrote down what I'd picked up in the
meeting with Malik. I also checked my emails but
he'd yet to send through the information he'd
promised me, which wasn't a huge surprise. He
was a busy guy and it could wait, particularly since
it didn't sound like there was going to be anything
earth-shattering contained in it. The Shaun
Matthews incident room was eerily quiet again that
afternoon, with me the solitary person in it. For
some reason, it made me feel sorry for Matthews in
a way I doubted he'd ever deserved, but there was
something vaguely undignified about the way his
death was steadily being forgotten by those
charged with finding his killer. As if he simply
wasn't important enough.

I picked up the phone and dialled the elusive DI
Burley, expecting to get his voicemail as I had on the
last two occasions I'd called. He hadn't returned
either of those calls. This time, however, I was in luck.

'Burley/ he grunted. Even his telephone manner
was obnoxious.

'Hello, sir/ I said, trying hard to sound as polite
as possible. 'It's DS Gallan here.'

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'You again. What the fuck are you hassling me for

now?'

'I wondered if there was any sign of Jean Tanner

yet.'

'Listen, I told you the other day, and I've told
your DCI since then, that when she turns up we'll
let you know.'

'Is there any actual effort being made to find
her?' I asked.

What do you want me to do, run adverts on the
front page of The Times? Do a door-to-door poster
campaign? We're looking all right, but we haven't
got unlimited money and manpower, so it's going
to take some time.'

'And what sort of progress are you making?'

'A lot more if I didn't keep getting my voicemail
clogged up by the likes of you.'

'If you'd let us fucking help in the first place--'

'Don't ever swear at me, Gallan/ he growled, but
by this time I was past caring.

'Is someone paying you to drag your feet on this?
Is that why you're taking so fucking long about it?'

'You piece of shit. You'll be hearing from me
about what you just said.'

I think we both hung up on each other at pretty
much the same time, and I was left staring at the
phone, wondering what motivated some people to
join the police force. In Burley's case, it was probably
a desire to mess up people's lives. I hoped he
didn't make a formal complaint to Knox, who had
no idea I was hassling Burley.

Next, I tried Roy Fowler's numbers, more out of
habit than anything else. I knew he wouldn't

223
answer, and he didn't. I then phoned the Arcadia
and asked the man who picked up whether they'd
heard from him, but they hadn't. It also turned out
that Elaine Toms had left, which was vaguely
interesting. No-one had a forwarding number for
her, and there wasn't one on the murder log, so I
was reduced to scanning the phone book until I
found it. She wasn't home; a man I assumed was
her boyfriend or flatmate answered. I introduced
myself and asked if she could call me back. The
man on the other end politely asked what it was
about and I gave him the usual spiel that it
was simply a routine police inquiry. In truth, I
wanted to find out why she'd left the club and
whether or not there was anything she might want to
add to her existing statements. A bit of a straw
clutching exercise, perhaps, but if you don't ask, you
don't get.

When Benin came back from his interview, we discussed
any new developments on the case, but there
was nothing of note to report. At about five o'clock,
Elaine Toms phoned back. She seemed in better
spirits and was certainly a lot politer than the last
time we'd talked, but that didn't alter the fact that she
had nothing further to add to her statement.

Fifteen minutes later I decided to call it a day, and
on the way out I bumped into WDC Boyd in the
corridor. I hadn't seen her for a couple of days as
she'd been transferred to the assault case on the
thirteen-year-old girl and was in charge of liaising
with the victim. It was a role I reckoned her well
suited to. She had the right combination of sensitive
and strong.

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We both stopped and made small talk for a minute
or two. I asked her how she was getting on with the
new case and she told me that, like all sexual
assaults, it was a difficult one, but particularly so
when the victim was so young. 'She's bearing up
well, considering,' she told me, 'but it breaks your
heart, John.' There was a genuine pain in her eyes as
she spoke, and all I could do was tell her that hope
full}' the girl was young enough to shrug off the
trauma of what had happened. I wasn't sure I
believed it, though.

'Have you managed to get anywhere further
with the poisons lead?' she asked me.

'No, I'm still not sure where else I can go with it.'
T'H taken Boyd's notes on what she'd uncovered
itgarding the venom that had killed Shaun
Matthews after she'd left the murder squad. They
were very thorough but didn't contain any hidden
gems of information. Tou seem to have covered
every angle,' I told her.

'I've covered the obvious ones, but I'm sure
there's something I've missed and we're missing.'

'Did you ever search for any matches on the
Internet?'

'I had a couple of dabbles but as soon as you put
in key words, you get hundreds of pieces of information
that are totally irrelevant. Sometimes I
think the net's overrated as a means of finding out
about stuff. And you know what it's like round
here. If you start surfing, people think you're just
messing about and not working. They're still
Luddites in CID/

'I think I might have a go at home,' I said. 'I

225
bought this PC a while back and I never seem to get
the time to use it.'

'Story of our lives/ she said.

I wanted to ask her what she was up to now and
whether she had time for a quick drink, and I was
just about to open my mouth when Knox appeared
round the corner, looking troubled.

'Hello Tina, John.' He stopped and took hold of
my arm. Tou'll have to excuse us, Tina, but we've
had some movement on the Matthews case. John, I
need to speak to you in the incident room.
Urgently.'

I said a brief goodbye to Boyd then walked back
towards the incident room with Knox. 'What's
happened, sir?'

That stain in the car we stopped the other day.
The one you phoned in about.'

'Oh yeah?'

'It was blood. And guess who the blood belonged
to?'

'I couldn't tell you, sir.'

'None other than Mr Arcadia himself, Roy Fowler.
It matched the sample we took from him when he
was nicked for driving under the influence.'

'Well, well, well.'

He turned and fixed me with a self-important
stare. 'I think I know what's happened/ he said.

Capper, Hunsdon and Benin joined us in Knox's
office in the incident room. Capper asked me how it
had gone with Malik that afternoon. 'Has he heard
anything from Dennis Milne lately?' he asked with a
snide smile as he grabbed a chair and sat down.

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'Yeah, he got a postcard from him the other day/
I said, smiling back. 'Apparently he's opened a
guesthouse in Bournemouth. Says he'll do discounts
for CID and pensioners.'

Capper didn't look too amused, knowing that his
attempt to score a point, however pathetic, had
backfired, but he didn't say anything. Hunsdon
yawned.

'All right, gents,' said Knox, bringing the meeting
to order. 'Important news.' He then explained what
had happened for the benefit of Capper, Berrin and
Hunsdon, before sitting back, bolt upright, in his
chair. There was a moment's silence while the news
sank in.

'That puts the cat among the pigeons/ said
C.ipper, exhaling dramatically.

'My theory's this/ said Knox, looking at us each
in turn for maximum effect as he spoke. 'Fowler
had Matthews killed. He used poison to make it
look like an accident but obviously wasn't aware
how easy it was for us to find out about it. That's
why I don't think it was the work of organized
criminals. They would have just shot him. Fowler's
motive was drugs. We know that dealing went on
at the Arcadia in fairly sizeable quantities, we know
that Matthews ran it, and we're almost certain that
Fowler organized it. I reckon Matthews was
ripping Fowler off, Fowler found out about it, and
took revenge.

'But I think Matthews had a business partner.
Someone involved with the drugs with him, and
that person was Max Iversson. He and Matthews
were both ex-soldiers, same regiment in fact, and I

227
think we'll find that the two of them knew each
other. Iversson found out about what Fowler had
done and decided to take revenge. He may have
simply assaulted Fowler, but more likely he's killed
him, and is consequently lying low.'