Chapter Thirty-Five
He glanced at the Timex on his wrist.
It read 09:15 hours.
He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and got up from his desk. A moment later he was tapping on the office door belonging to Chris Evans and Michael Kozlowski.
Equally large, contemporary, and just as airy as his and Stuart’s.
Chris looked up from where she was kneeling on the floor packing up the hospital surveillance tapes. She grinned, walked over to the door and let Love in.
Love nodded to Michael then glanced back at the box of tapes. ‘Packing it all up?’
‘No, I’m praying for guidance.’
Love looked at her. ‘Is that the famous British irony or just plain sarcasm?’
Michael Kozlowski spoke from where he was sitting at his desk. ‘Be glad you don’t have to listen to it all day like I do.’ He ducked as Chris pretended to throw a tape in his direction.
Still smiling, Chris said, ‘Well done to you and Stu.’
Love shook his head. ‘It was a team effort, Chris.’ He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter from his trouser pocket. ‘Do you mind?’ He knew she was trying to quit.
‘Not in the slightest,’ she said.
Love looked at Michael who shook his head. ‘Go ahead, Love, I’d join you but I just put one out myself.’
‘So did I,’ Love said, and smiled. ‘But I’m only smoking half or less.’ He bent his head, lit his cigarette, put the lighter back in his pocket, inhaled deeply, walked over to the open window and blew the smoke out. He glanced down at the telltale remains of ash on the window sill outside. He turned, and said, ‘Thanks, guys, for all your help.’
‘Just doing our job,’ Michael said in that understated British way.
‘That’s all right,’ Chris said. ‘Glad he’s been apprehended.’
‘Yeah, well, couldn’t do it without you or Fitch.’
‘That’s what we’re all about,’ Michael said. He tapped a file sitting on his desk, and said, ‘Are you still interviewing Sven Stonehead on Tuesday or is that now academic?’
Love was in the middle of blowing a lungful of smoke out the window. He turned back sharply. ‘Christ! I’d forgotten all about him.’
Michael chuckled. ‘It’s just that this investigation I’m conducting is turning up some very interesting facts.’
‘Really? Such as?’
‘Well, for one, tell me how a director of a private charity reliant on donated funds who is neither financially independent or has recently won the lottery and is on a fair but modest wage can afford a brand-new Jaguar.’
Love raised his eyebrow. ‘Offhand, I can’t.’
‘And that’s not all,’ Michael said. ‘Our friend, who incidentally was born in Stockholm to an English father and Swedish mother…’
‘Explains the name,’ Chris said, glanced up and smiled from where she was still kneeling on the floor.
‘It would appear that he’s not alone in all this.’
‘Outside assistance or internal?’
‘Both.’ Michael stood up and walked over to join Love. ‘It would appear the charity is always being taken to court for one thing or another and they actually have a law firm commissioned on a full-time basis.’ He shook his head. ‘That is not normal.’
‘And?’
‘The director and boss of this law outfit is also a long-term friend of Stonehead’s, I mean, they are really chummy.’ He looked forward and stared out the window. ‘And he drives a brand-new Audi.’
‘Well,’ Love said, thinking of Stuart’s theory and grinned. So much for a Ford Ka and a Jaguar to boot! ‘That is interesting.’
‘Yep, I’ve been doing a little digging with the help of certain individuals whom shall remain nameless,’ he said, and smiled. That’s for certain. Michael brought with him a wealth of experience and a network of valuable contacts. ‘And it would appear the fraud squad has shown some interest.’
Love thought back to his earlier conversation with Stonehead. ‘The man rubbed me up the wrong way.’
‘I know the type you mean,’ Michael said. ‘Creepy.’ He shuddered. ‘Not to mention rude.’
‘That’s about it.’
‘Funny how things turn out,’ he said, gazing into the distance.
‘Well,’ Love said, took one last drag, walked over to Michael’s desk where he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. ‘Good luck to you with that although I’m not sorry I no longer have to bother with him.’
Michael turned from the window, and smiled. ‘No doubt they’ll wriggle their way out of it like they do everything else but not before they’ve had the wind blown up them.’
‘Good! Blow hard,’ he said, and grinned.
‘There,’ Chris said. She stood up, brushing her knees. ‘All done. I’ll drop them off this afternoon.’
Love thought about his upcoming interview with Heinrich. ‘I’ll take them.’
‘Are you sure, I mean it’s no trouble.’
‘Yeah, I have to go there anyway,’ he said. ‘It’s no problem.’
‘Well, thank you, kind sir,’ Chris said, and smiled. She bent down, picked up the box, handed it to Love.
‘See you later,’ Love said.
Michael nodded and smiled. Chris walked Love over to the door. She pulled it open, paused. ‘See you later, handsome.’
‘Don’t even go there, sweetheart, I’ll tell your accountant.’
Chris grinned. ‘Spoilsport.’
Love smiled as he walked from the room and into the corridor, rounded the corner, and back to his office.
Love reached into his desk, he pulled out a small plastic evidence bag inside of which was James Sullivan’s gold eagle head tiepin.
Love figured he’d return it to him after dropping off the tapes. He wondered if he’d bump into Julie Cooper. He figured there would be no avoiding it.
Would he want to? Avoid her? Not really. He liked the woman, damn it!
He half turned and placed the bag in his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. Following a moment’s mental preparation in anticipation of what was coming next, he leant forward pressed the button on his computer and waited. Listening to it whirring into life, any second now he’d see that… yes, there it was, scratching itself! Excellent improvement on that stupid paper clip, but, for the hundredth time, Love reckoned they could have at least made it a dog. Love’s little foible out the way, he reached forward to the keyboard and began to type out the report.
He and Stuart had been making notes as they went along so it was just left to Love to fill in yesterday’s pursuit and eventual arrest and tie up any loose ends. Two hours and fifteen minutes later, Love shoved his chair back. It rolled silently on the carpet. He pushed one hand through his feathered fringe causing it to flatten on to his head before springing forward again a moment later, strolled over to the window and looked out. He raised both hands and leant them against the steel frame. He was spent. Exhausted but satisfied. It had been an interesting week. But it was all in a day’s work. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He wasn’t interested in doing anything else. His talents lay here and he’d keep going until they retired him or he got killed.
Whichever option came first.
He wondered how Stuart was doing. He reckoned he’d be seeing his partner just before twelve o’clock. No amount of castigating from Love or anyone else would convince the man to stay away.
Stuart was just as dedicated to the job as Love.