Part 25 (2/2)

'Any toxicology report?'

'Tests were done but nothing was found.'

'No hemlock then.'

Steve shook his head. They were approaching the Memorial Gardens and Tradmouth's handsome new library loomed to their right. Not far to go now. Wesley decided that he should make an attempt at conversation. Steve might have been a pain in the neck in the past, but they had to work together so they might as well be on reasonable terms. 'Was that your girlfriend? Been going out long?'

'Not long.'

'I recognise her. She works at the sandwich shop, doesn't she?'

'Yeah. She works with my dad. That's how we met.'

A long silence followed as they entered the police station and climbed the stairs to the CID office. Perhaps, Wesley thought, he shouldn't have ventured on to personal territory. You live and learn.

As soon as Gerry Heffernan spotted Wesley, he summoned him to his office. He had news to impart.

'I've caught our mole,' he said viciously. 'I went and had a quiet word with Ray Davenport last night and it seems he's getting his story through one of the girls who works for him. New and keen, she is hopes to end up in Fleet Street.'

'So who's been feeding her the information?' Wesley wished he'd come to the point.

'Our mole. I want you here while I cut off his b.a.l.l.s and put them in my trophy cabinet.'

Wesley opened his mouth to say something but he thought better of it. In the mood the DCI was in, it was better that he was allowed to let off some steam. He just felt a little sorry for the mole whoever it was.

Wesley was surprised when DC Lee Parsons knocked on Heffernan's door. Wesley could see his youthful face through the gla.s.s. He looked terrified. Heffernan growled a 'come in' and the young man shuffled in and shut the door behind him. He looked more guilty than most villains he'd locked away in the cells and a good deal more fearful. He wasn't invited to sit.

'You've got a new girlfriend, I believe,' Heffernan began innocently.

'That's right, sir.'

'Reporter on the Echo, isn't she?'

The young DC swallowed hard. He knew what was coming.

'Bit of inside information impresses the girls, doesn't it? They like to feel they're with someone who has his finger on the pulse.'

There was no answer but the young man's eyes widened in terror.

'The postmortem results for Marrick and Tench were confidential. We like to keep things like the fact they were poisoned with hemlock back from the hoi polloi because that way we can sort out the real killer from all the nutcases who crawl out of the woodwork making false confessions to brighten up their dull little lives.' He looked Parsons in the eye. 'But you had to go and impress your girlfriend with your inside knowledge, didn't you. Was it her who thought up ”the Spider” or you? Her at a guess. You don't look the imaginative type.'

'Well?' said Wesley. 'Was it you who leaked the information?'

Parsons cleared his throat. 'Yes, sir,' he croaked. 'Sorry, sir. I realise now that it was a stupid thing to do but ...'

'But what?' Heffernan hissed, standing up, looming over the unhappy constable like the Grim Reaper.

'Well, I didn't think it would do any harm telling Sarah. I mean ...'

'You knew she worked for the Echo?' Wesley said with some incredulity. It was many years since he'd been that naive and he'd almost forgotten what it was like.

'When she talked about her job she said it was all reporting village fetes and the mayor's charity engagements. I never thought ... She seemed really interested in these murders and ...'

'So you gave her chapter and verse.'

Lee Parsons hung his head. 'I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again.'

'Too right it won't.'

'Please, sir, I know I've screwed up but ...'

Heffernan shook his head. 'Just get out of my sight.'

Parsons hurried out as if the Devil himself or Gerry Heffernan which was probably worse was in hot pursuit. When he was out of earshot Wesley spoke. 'What are you going to do, Gerry? Return him to uniform?'

'I'd like to but at the moment we're short handed.' He shrugged. Lee Parsons's place in CID was probably safe for now. Providing he'd learned his lesson.

'I don't suppose there's any serious harm been done.' Wesley smiled. 'And it might alert potential victims to the dangers of taking drinks laced with hemlock from strange men. By the way, Steve Carstairs picked up the inquest report on the ex-headmaster, Stanley Hadderson. It was suicide all right and there was nothing suspicious in the toxicology report. And Hedge was telling the truth he did have a brain tumour. Inoperable.'

'No sign of hemlock?'

Wesley answered in the negative. Then he took Neil's letter out of his pocket. He'd already put it in an evidence bag ready to send to Forensic. He pushed it across the desk and Heffernan read it.

'Weird,' was the DCI's verdict. 'All this stuff about bloodletting. Do you reckon our killer wrote them?'

'If he did, I'd have expected something more specific ... even boasting about what he'd done.' He hesitated. 'But there is a link with the victims. Norman Hedge is taking part in Neil's dig. And I've been thinking ... perhaps the killer uses hemlock because he can't overpower the victims physically. Hedge is elderly no match for the likes of Marrick and co. And if the victims take the hemlock, they must trust their killer. There's n.o.body more trustworthy than your old history master come to call.'

Before Heffernan could reply, there was a knock on the door. This time it was Tom from Forensic. He had a sheet of paper in his hand and he looked pleased with himself.

'I've been on to the service provider.' He paused, as if he was about to impart some dramatic information. 'And you're not going to believe this,' he said with a gleam in his eye.

'Try us,' said Wesley, wis.h.i.+ng Tom would come to the point.

'It's a monastery.'

This made Gerry Heffernan sit up and take notice. 'A monastery? You mean monks have computers?'

'Why not? It's a place called Shenton Abbey not far from Plymouth.'

'Thanks, Tom,' Wesley said, wondering about the significance of this new development. It was possible that the 'Frankie' Dean was corresponding with was a former member of Belsinger's staff, retired to a life of prayer or contemplation. Or perhaps an ex-pupil someone who knew the victims.

He saw the list of former Belsinger pupils lying on top of a pile of witness statements on Heffernan's desk and picked it up. 'There's only one Francis listed here, Gerry. He was in the same year as the victims and he was in Tavistock House. Francis Duparc. It could be our Frankie. He might work at Shenton Abbey he doesn't necessarily have to be a monk.'

'Whatever he is, we need to talk to him. If it is this Francis Duparc and our Spider is going round eliminating everyone who was in that year at Tavistock House, he could be in danger.'

'Only if the killer knows where to find him.' Wesley looked at his watch. 'We should be on our way to the hospital. Mortimer Dean's postmortem.'

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