Питер Ловси - Do Not Exceed the Stated Dose [Stories]

“Drive past and park as near as you can.”

Julie found a layby a short walk away.

When they approached on foot the only cover available was the side wall of Porterfield’s building. From it they had a view of the empty Mercedes parked on the forecourt. “I should have called for some back-up, but we can handle this, can’t we?” said Diamond.

Julie lifted one eyebrow and said nothing.

Diamond issued an order. “When he comes out, you go across and nick him.”

She lifted the other eyebrow.

He told her, “I’m the back-up.”

Five minutes passed. The traffic on the Warminster Road zoomed by steadily.

“He’s coming.”

Julie tensed.

Porterfield emerged from the building trundling a hand trolley stacked with white cartons. He set the trolley upright, took some keys from his pocket, opened the boot of the car and leaned in.

Diamond pressed a hand against the small of Julie’s back. She started forward.

Sending in Julie first may have looked like cowardice, but it was not. While her sudden arrival on the scene caught Porterfield’s attention, Diamond ducked around the other side of the Mercedes. Just in time, because Porterfield produced a knife from the car boot and swung it at Julie.

She swayed out of range and narrowly escaped another lunge. Then Diamond charged in and grabbed Porterfield from behind and thrust him sideways against the car, pinioning his arms. Julie prised the knife from his fist. Diamond produced a set of handcuffs and between them they forced him over the boot and manacled him.

“Want to see what’s in the cartons?” Diamond suggested to Julie over the groaning prisoner. “Why don’t you use the knife?”

She cut along the adhesive seal of the top carton and parted the flaps. Neatly stacked inside were wads of French one-hundred franc banknotes.

“Money?”

“Funny money,” said Diamond. “We’ll find the offset litho machine and the plates hidden deep inside the building. What with Serena’s artwork, Glenn Noble’s printing expertise and these premises to work in, making counterfeit notes was a profitable scam. But just like you said, Trish got suspicious of all the late nights. Glenn hadn’t dared tell her what he was up to, even though it helped their bank balance no end. She was too high principled to be in on the secret.”

“Why French money?” Julie asked.

“Easier to make. No metal strip. I don’t know how good these forgeries are, but Glenn would have got his brother in Devon to make the paper with a passable watermark.” He picked one up and held it to the light. “Not bad. A portrait of Glenn’s favourite painter, Eugene Delacroix. This has a nice feel to it. They coat the printed notes with glycerine. He’ll have handpressed the serial numbers.”

“And why was he killed?”

“Because of Trish. Unwisely he told Porterfield that she was asking about the late nights. She would have seen it as her moral duty to shop them all, and Porterfield couldn’t risk her wheedling the truth out of Glenn.” He hauled Porterfield upright. “You thought you could get rid of Glenn and do the printing yourself, didn’t you, ratbag? Last Monday afternoon you called unexpectedly at the house. Glenn let you in, offered you a drink, and when his back was turned you drove a knife into him. You escaped through the back garden just as Trish was coming in through the front. Right?”

“How the hell did you get on to me?” Porterfield asked.

“Through something Glenn Noble wrote on a photograph. Someone took a picture of your day out in Minehead in 1993. Glenn wrote ‘wayzgoose’ on the back.”

“What’s that?”

“A word for a printers’ outing. When I looked at it first, I couldn’t understand why he called it that, since he was the only printer in the picture. Then it dawned that you and possibly your wife were involved in some printing activity. When I saw how well you were doing, and how large his bank balance was, I reckoned you were printing money. Julie, would you call headquarters and ask them to send a car?”

Porterfield asked, “What was that word?”

“‘Wayzgoose’,” said Diamond. “Funny old word. Worth remembering. It’ll get you a large score in Scrabble. Where you’re going, you may get the odd chance to play. You’ll certainly have the time.”