Хилари Боннер - Deadly Dance

But, for once, even Vogel didn’t dare leave his office. He really had to remain at the hub of the investigation of which he was DSIO. Hemmings was not going to stand for anything else.

‘Look, there’s no way I can come over to you,’ he told Sergeant Jones. ‘Would this woman be prepared to come here, do you think, if you got a uniform to drive her?’

Sergeant Jones replied that he reckoned that could be arranged.

Miss Sonia Baker arrived less than half an hour later. Vogel had her brought straight to his office. She was now sitting opposite him, a fair-haired woman, probably in her late thirties, just a little plumper than she might like to be and well dressed, in a rather old-fashioned sort of way. Discomfort oozed from every pore of her body. A handkerchief was clasped tightly in her left hand. She looked as if she may have been crying.

Vogel introduced himself, offered Sonia Baker coffee or tea and tried to do everything he could to make her feel less ill at ease. The woman attempted a weak smile. He noticed that her lips were trembling, but he needed to start questioning her swiftly in order to ascertain whether she really was the genuine article or just another time-waster.

‘Could you please begin by telling me what you told Sergeant Jones at Trinity Road,’ he said.

Sonia, in spite of being so upset, related clearly how she had met Saul Homer on line, through marryme.com , how they’d corresponded in detail for some time and had eventually arranged to meet.

‘And you are sure it’s the same Saul Homer we are now looking for?’

‘Oh yes. Well, it’s an unusual name, of course, but that’s not it. As soon as I saw the picture on the TV this morning, I recognised him at once. It’s the same photo he posted on marryme.com . It’s not there now though, I checked. But I have a print-out.’

Sonia Baker reached into her handbag, removed a sheet of A4 paper and put it on Vogel’s desk. Vogel glanced down. The bespectacled face, which had been haunting him for a day and half now, was before him. It was the same Saul all right.

‘So did you ever meet him, Miss Baker?’ he asked.

‘No, he didn’t turn up, you see,’ said the woman ‘I stood on the railway station at Bath like a total idiot. He was supposed to be arriving there from Swindon, where he said he lived. I looked all along the train he was supposed to be on. I even thought I saw him. There was this man who was about to step out of one of the carriages and then turned away and went back in. I thought it was him at first. There was definitely a similarity, although it might just have been that he was wearing tinted glasses like Saul’s. I caught a glimpse of him again, looking out of a window. Straight at me, I thought, but he wasn’t my Saul, obviously. My Saul never arrived. I waited for the next two trains from Swindon. We’d spoken on the phone a couple of times. He had this quite gentle voice, with the hint of a rural Wiltshire burr. I thought he sounded so nice. What a fool. I couldn’t phone him from the station. He said he’d lost his phone, a lie obviously. I realise now how stupid I was, but he seemed to want all that I wanted. He must have told the same sort of story to this poor woman from Thailand. It still upsets me, which is ridiculous really because I could be dead, couldn’t I, Mr Vogel? I could have been another victim. It all fits.’

‘If you are right and I suspect you are, then I think you may have had a very lucky escape indeed, Miss Baker.’

Vogel asked the woman if she would make a full statement and she agreed to do so at once. He said he would arrange for someone to go through the procedure with her and asked her to accompany him to reception. In the corridor, they met Willis and Saslow, clearly on their way out.

Vogel asked Sonia to wait a moment and took Saslow to one side.

‘I need a word with you two, where are you off?’ he asked.

‘They’ve had a walk-in at Avonmouth nick. Character who claims he’s Aeolus.’

‘Ah, the first and almost certainly not the last.’

‘I know boss, but apparently he’s pretty convincing. Hemmings wants us over there pronto, just in case.’

‘All right, Saslow, let me know how you get on.’

Saslow hurried after Willis, who had barely paused and was virtually out of the door. Typical, thought Vogel, not disapprovingly, Willis was always completely focused on the job in hand.

Sonia Baker took a step towards the DI and touched his arm lightly.

‘Mr Vogel, who were those people?’ she asked.

Vogel told her.

‘Then you are probably going to think I’m crazy, Detective Inspector, but I have something to tell you.’

As soon as Sonia Baker left, Vogel picked up his phone to call Saslow and Willis. Then he put it down again.

He had questioned the woman thoroughly and the more he’d questioned her, the clearer it seemed that she was not entirely sure of the quite startling information she had given Vogel. Indeed when the DI had suggested that she make a formal statement on the matter she’d declined at once.

‘I wouldn’t like to do that, not until you have checked it out and tried to discover whether it might be possible or not,’ she said.

She could be letting her imagination run away with her, Vogel told himself.

But he’d seen, many times, how a clever barrister can destroy a witness in a court of law; making someone, who had previously been quite sure of their evidence, seem inept and full of doubt. He’d always thought that sort of lawyer to be too clever by half, and maybe that’s how Vogel himself had just been behaving to Sonia.

On the other hand, Sonia Baker had said that she couldn’t be sure, not absolutely sure, anyway. Then again, Vogel had never been the kind of policeman who would only believe what he wanted to believe. He was a meticulous man, who made sure that he or his team checked and double checked every lead, however obscure. However unlikely. However ridiculous.

And this was ridiculous, surely.

Quite ridiculous.

He should certainly do a little elementary checking before alerting others. He didn’t want to be guilty of a false alarm on a matter of this enormity.

It was always a good idea to check dates and opportunity before wreaking havoc. To at least discover if a possible suspect had a solid alibi, like being aboard an aircraft in the middle of the Atlantic or picked up on CCTV at the other end of the country. He switched on his computer and called up a file, which would give him the information he needed.

Involuntarily, he raised one hand to his lips. It was as he’d feared. He knew his breathing had quickened. So far, everything matched. He was pretty sure of that. But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

He made himself take extra special care. He knew he must be as sure of himself as humanly possible before proceeding. He closed the file and opened another containing the Met’s report on the murder of Timothy Southey in London, sent over by Nobby Clarke’s team.

He needed to double-check that the dates matched.

They did.

Vogel leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. An occasional habit when under stress or in shock. He clasped his hands and rested them on his chin. His palms were clammy.

He told himself it could still be nothing. All of it. On the other hand, he thought, better safe than sorry.

He sucked in a gulp of air, filling his lungs, then he leaned forward and picked up his phone again to call Dawn Saslow.

I knew the net was closing in at last. I suppose it was inevitable. Even so, it was probably a stroke of silly, bad luck that was going to bring me down, rather than any mistakes I had made. The events of the last few minutes had been disturbing; an unlucky coincidence that could destroy me. I might get away with it, yet again, or I could be wrong. It may not have mattered at all. I told myself to stay calm.