Peter Lovesey - The Headhunters

‘Francisco,’ Mr Bell said with a defiant stare suggesting he wasn’t wholly comfortable with the name. ‘My old lady is Italian. She always said I could call myself Francis if I didn’t like it, but I said that’s a girl’s name.’

‘Frank?’ Hen suggested.

‘Then the kids at school call you Frankenstein. No thanks. I’ll stick with what I was given.’

Gary said, ‘I was asking Mr Bell about the victim’s car.’

‘Nice motor,’ Francisco said. ‘Two-thousand-six reg. She used to park it out front.’

‘It isn’t there now,’ Hen said. ‘We were wondering where it might be.’

‘Can’t help you.’

‘She didn’t rent a garage, I suppose?’

‘No idea.’

‘The keys aren’t in the house and neither are the documents.’

‘You think someone nicked it? Was that what she was killed for?’

‘Too early to say,’ Hen said. ‘You’re from next door, are you, Francisco? Were you here on the day she died?’

‘Might have been. If you’re asking if I saw anything, I didn’t. I work as a security officer in Portsmouth most nights. Catch up on my sleep next day, so I miss a lot of what goes on.’

‘You met Fiona, I expect?’

‘A few times, yeah.’

‘A good neighbour, was she?’

‘I s’pose. There wasn’t no trouble, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘Quiet, then?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you notice any visitors?’

‘Her ex called once a week with the sprog.’

‘Their child, you mean? Did you meet him, the ex-husband?’

He shook his head. ‘No reason to.’

‘What about other callers? Anyone you noticed?’

‘What do you think I am, some old git with nothing to do but stare out the window?’

‘Perhaps you’d answer my question, Francisco.’

‘I didn’t see squat, okay?’

‘No, it isn’t okay,’ Hen said. ‘I’ve seen a report stating that you and a work colleague of Fiona’s called in to report her missing and you were both outside the house when the patrol car turned up.’

He didn’t even blink at that. ‘So?’

‘So you not only saw one of her callers, but you spoke to the woman and agreed to call nine-nine-nine. Don’t tell me you didn’t see squat when it’s on record that you did.’

He shrugged. ‘That babe woke me up, didn’t she? I’ve never seen her, before or since. What’s the big deal?’

‘Fiona was murdered a few yards from your front door, that’s the deal,’ Hen said, increasingly impatient with him. His size and looks didn’t intimidate her. ‘Waste any more of my time and you’ll get nicked.’

He held up both hands. ‘All right, lady. Stay cool.’

‘Do you have a key?’

‘Come again.’

‘Key-to this house?’

‘No. Why should I?’

‘Neighbours often do-neighbours who can be trusted.’

‘That’s below the belt.’

‘You say you’re a security man. Position of trust. You look like a bouncer to me. Is that what you do?’

‘What’s wrong with that? Look, I come here voluntary when your boy asked me. I don’t have to listen to this.’

‘Francisco, it looks as if someone stole Fiona’s car. Not only that, but they came inside the house and took the registration certificate and all the documentation relating to the car. They didn’t break in. They let themselves in with a key.’

‘Got to be the killer, hasn’t it?’ he said. ‘He dumps her in the Mill Pond and grabs her handbag and uses the key to let himself in here. Then he gets into the files, takes the paperwork for the car, and makes his getaway. He can flog the car later.’

‘Sounds good,’ Hen said, ‘but there’s a problem with it. If he leaves in her car, what did he do with his own?’

‘Didn’t have one.’

‘How did he get here, then?’

‘Dunno. Bus?’

‘In all the time I’ve been investigating crime I’ve never heard of a killer arriving at the scene by bus.’

‘He’s local, then.’

‘He still drove away in Fiona’s Picasso. Where to?’

Francisco scratched his cropped head. ‘You’ve got me there.’

‘Not to worry,’ Hen said with a smile that took Francisco by surprise. ‘Our problem, not yours. That’s where a homing device comes in useful.’

‘A what?’

‘A bug. You’d know all about them, being in security.’

‘The car was bugged?’

‘Apparently. You can get them on the internet, dinky little things you put out of sight under the dash or in the boot. Fiona must have been proud of that car.’

‘How do you know she bugged it?’

‘The leaflet is in the files under S for security. The pinpoint tracker. The signals are bounced off a satellite, I gather, and we can access them on her computer. Unfortunately, as Gary will tell you, there’s a firewall device on the computer so we have to wait for a whizz-kid to help us.’

‘So you don’t know where the car is?’

‘Tomorrow we will. Maybe later tonight. And of course when we find it we can test for traces of DNA. You can’t drive a car without leaving some. Thanks for coming in, Francisco. If we need you again we know where to find you.’

‘Right, yes.’ He didn’t sound enthusiastic. His thoughts were elsewhere.

‘Gary will see you out.’

After the door was closed and Gary returned, he said, ‘Is that true about the bug?’

‘Francisco thinks it is.’

‘You made it up?’

She nodded. ‘Let’s see what he does next.’

The crush in the Slug and Lettuce was getting too much, so they decided to look for a meal elsewhere. Jo asked Jake if he was vegetarian. He gave his slow smile and said, ‘No. Does that surprise you?’

‘I was thinking with you being so keen on, em… ’

‘Hugging trees?’

‘I wasn’t going to say that.’

‘I know.’

‘What I meant is that you respect living creatures.’

Jake nodded. ‘But vegetables have a life, too.’

She wasn’t certain if he was serious. The smile had gone.

They went for a Chinese meal in the Hornet and ordered mainly rice and vegetable dishes with some chicken. Using chopsticks, he helped her to some of each, saying this was the custom.

‘Have you been to China, then?’

He shook his head. ‘I had a Chinese cellmate.’

After some talk about their surroundings, Jo said, ‘I’m glad the others didn’t want us to spend all evening with them.’

‘Me, too.’

‘It’s not that I dislike them. Just that in company Rick is… I don’t know what the word is.’

‘A gadfly?’

‘You’ve got it. Makes me feel uncomfortable. What was that business about Gemma’s boss, when she said he was history now and Rick said he was tomorrow’s news, or something like that, and they laughed and went all secretive?’

‘Rick went secretive,’ Jake said. ‘Gemma wanted to let us in on it.’

She recalled the moment now and Jake’s memory was spot on. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Rick closed her down, as if you and I couldn’t be trusted. It went from joking to deadly serious. What did he mean by “tomorrow’s news”? They know something we don’t. I’m sure of that.’

‘Sounds as if they expect he’ll be found dead.’

‘That’s what I took it to mean.’ She thought about what she was agreeing with and changed it. ‘No, it was stronger than that, as if they know he’s dead.’

‘Maybe they do.’

Surprised, she asked, ‘How do you mean?’

‘The police could have told them to say nothing.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘The next of kin are told first.’

‘That’s what it was about, then.’ But in truth she doubted if the police had anything to do with it.