R. Wingfield - Hard Frost

She picked up the poker and began be labouring the coals on the fire as if it was Frost's skull she was smashing. "I've told you what happened. I've nothing more to say. You have property of mine. I'd like it back."

"All in good time, Mrs. Roberts." He studied her through narrowed eyes. A hefty woman, as strong as an ox. One blow from that poker would certainly make Lemmy's eyes water and she wouldn't have too much difficulty humping the body out to her car. But it might not have been so easy to carry Lemmy from her car to the coal bunker on her own. She might have needed help. Then what about her bottom-smacking chum in the mortar-board?

"I'd like you to give me the name and address of your gentleman friend in the photograph."

"No!" She was firm on this. "I'm not having him involved."

Frost considered insisting, but decided against it. He thought about getting Forensic in to give the place a going over, but decided against that also. Too much time had gone by and, in any case, she wasn't denying that Lemmy had been here. Forensic had plenty of better things to do so he decided just to let her sweat for a while.

"What size television set have you got, Mrs. Roberts?"

"Television set?" She stared at him as if he was mad. "I haven't got a television set. I wouldn't have one in the house."

"Then you won't mind if my colleague takes a look." Frost nodded to Burton, who left the room. He stood up. "I'll want you to go down to the station some time today and give us a full statement about the robbery and the blackmail attempt."

She coloured a deep crimson and pulverized another piece of coal with the poker. "A statement? Is that really necessary?"

"You needn't be specific some of our young officers are easily shocked. You can just refer to a letter and certain activities it mentions you would prefer were not made public'

Burton returned, shaking his head. No TV set of any size in the house. They showed themselves out; leaving her looking decidedly uneasy.

At the station Mullett was flapping about in a state of high agitation awaiting their return. He grabbed Frost and hustled him into his office. "Well?"

"She could be involved," said Frost. "But I haven't got any hard evidence, yet." He filled Mullett in on the details.

"There were other compromising letters and photographs have you checked to see if those people were being blackmailed by Hoxton?"

"It's on my long list of things to do," replied Frost, who hadn't got round to thinking of that aspect.

"The sooner we can clear Mrs. Roberts…"

"As I am sure you would wish, sir, clearing Mrs. Roberts is right at the bottom of my list of priorities," said Frost.

"Of course, of course. The letter and the photograph — you didn't tell her I'd seen them?"

"She never asked."

"Good." Mullett dabbed at his brow with his handkerchief. "It would be very embarrassing if she thought I knew." He rearranged the blotter on his desk to show he was changing the subject. "What's the procedure for the ransom han dover tonight?"

"We've got all the public telephone kiosks in the shopping mall bugged, so whichever one the kidnapper calls we'll be able to hear everything he says. I've also arranged for a homing device to be slipped inside the suitcase with the money."

"How did you manage that?"

"Remember Tommy Dunn used to be with us in CID?"

Mullett pulled a face. He did indeed remember Dunn, an inefficient officer with a drink problem and the strongest of hints that he took irregular payments. Dunn had been arrested on a charge of driving while well over the limit, but Mullett had managed to get the charge dropped in exchange for Dunn's resignation. A pity, he thought wistfully, he couldn't do something similar with Frost. He also recalled that Dunn was one of the investigating officers four years ago when Cassidy's daughter was killed and there were vague whispers he was bribed by the hit and run driver. "I remember Dunn. What about him?"

"Tommy works for Savalot as a security guard. He's going to slip the homing device in the suitcase for us."

"Why should he do that? He owes us no favours."

"He's doing it for three bottles of Johnnie Walker and the cancellation of a couple of parking tickets." It was six parking tickets actually, but he wasn't telling the superintendent this.

"I don't want to know," said Mullett hurriedly.

"I'll bung the cost of the whisky on my petrol expenses," said Frost blithely, 'so don't query it if it looks a bit high." He was also going to sneak in the cost of petrol bought while he was on holiday which would make it higher still.

Mullett flapped a hand. "Spare me the details. I'm not happy that Dunn is involved in this, Frost. You can't rely on him."

"He's all we've got," said Frost. But he shared Mullett's concern. Tommy had sounded half cut when he agreed to doit.

"So," continued Mullett, 'if things go as you hope and Dunn runs contrary to past form, we will have a homing device hidden in the ransom money?"

"Yes. We'll be able to track Cordwell to the han dover point and then keep tabs on the kidnapper after he's picked it up."

"What about his claim he can monitor police radios?"

"I don't believe him, but just in case he does we'll be scrambling all our radio messages."

"The safety of the boy is paramount," insisted Mullett.

"We won't make a move until we know where he is and are assured he's safe."

Mullett scratched his chin thoughtfully. It sounded foolproof, but when Frost organized things, nothing was foolproof. "Well, I'll leave the details to you," he said, so he could deny any knowledge of them should things blow up in their faces. "The only stipulation I make is that things must not go wrong."

"That's a bloody good stipulation!" said Frost in mock admiration as he walked to the door. "I'll bear it in mind."

While Mullett was trying to determine if there was a tinge of sarcasm in this, he heard an indignant squeal from Miss Smith, his secretary, then a cry of "How's that for centre?" and a guffaw from Frost. He shook his head sadly. How could you work with a man like that? He looked up in sympathy at the scarlet face of Miss Smith as she burst in to complain.

Liz was waiting in his office and pushed a pile of reports over to him. Without looking at them, he pushed them back. "Just tell me what they say, love. My lips get tired when I read."

She took them and gave him a precis of each. "I saw Mark Grover in hospital and broke the news of his wife's death."

"Shit!" said Frost. "I should have done that. Sorry to dump it on you, love how did he take it?"

"He took it very well. He said it served the cow right."

"You didn't tell him we suspect it was murder?"

"No. I just said it looked as if she had fallen in front of a train. He told me she had kept threatening to kill herself- the doctor had prescribed her pills for depression."

"They don't seem to have worked all that bloody well," sniffed Frost. "I'll check it out with her doctor." He scribbled a reminder on his pad. "What else?"

"You told me to take his clothes to the lab. They're still doing tests, but if there's any blood, they haven't found it yet."

"Did you ask him about the row the neighbours heard?"

"He says it wasn't him. He never left the store until nearly two o'clock. I've spoken to his work mate who again confirms this. Then I checked with the security man at the store. No-one can get in or out until he operates the electronic locking system and he's definite that he didn't operate it at all that night. And just in case you might still have doubts, I contacted their boss at the shop fitting firm. He phoned at twenty past midnight to find out how the job was going and Mark Grover answered the phone."

Frost chewed this over. There was not a lot of support for his theory that Grover killed his wife. But he was only giving Liz half his attention. His mind was still on the ransom han dover He didn't want another of his usual cock-ups on this one.