When she had finished, it was a thoughtful Vogel who took the lift to the ground floor of Sampford House. He had already decided to change his plans. Instead of visiting other members of the group as he’d intended, Vogel retraced his steps down Bow Street and Wellington Street and took another number 9 bus back to Charing Cross.
There was something he had to check. Something that had been niggling at the back of his mind from the beginning of his meeting with Marlena. Something he hadn’t expected and had found extremely disturbing.
Back at the station he got himself a coffee from a vending machine then logged in to his computer. A few minutes later he leaned back in his chair, the paper cup of coffee standing neglected on his desk. His mind was racing.
As he had suspected, there had been no Belfast training course in diplomatic protection that week, nor indeed any other training course, as far as he could ascertain. It was a matter of record that Michelle was looking for a transfer out of Traffic, and the Ulster police did run such courses for officers based elsewhere, as, for obvious historical reasons, they were regarded as leaders in the field. But not on this occasion.
In any case, Vogel soon discovered that Michelle had reported sick for the two days she had been absent from work. That too was a matter of record.
So where had she been during the period between her Sunday-evening supper at Johnny’s Place and her arrival at Marlena’s flat late on Tuesday evening clutching an overnight bag? It seemed highly unlikely that she had been genuinely sick. What had she been doing? Why did she lie to her friends, and presumably to her employers?
Vogel had no idea. But he planned to find out.
Neither Billy nor Tiny had returned to work since receiving the news that Daisy had died. And how she’d died.
Instead they mooched around their flat in their pyjamas alternating between floods of tears and shouting at each other.
Billy said he couldn’t understand why Tiny hadn’t been watching Daisy properly. Everyone knew that London parks were deceptively dangerous for dogs.
‘Are you fucking blaming me for what happened?’ Tiny yelled at him.
‘Yes, I fucking am,’ Billy yelled back. ‘Our dog has probably been tortured to death and it’s all your stupid fault.’
He didn’t really blame Tiny though, and later, when they’d both calmed down, Billy apologized profusely and told his partner that.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying, honestly I don’t. I just can’t believe what’s happened, that’s all.’
Then he took the big man in his arms and told him how much he loved him.
Ten minutes later they were at each other’s throats again.
‘Oh yeah, you love me all right,’ stormed Tiny. ‘So bloody much you keep me a bloody great secret.’
‘If you were me, you’d keep you a secret too,’ shouted Billy, though even he wasn’t sure what he meant by that.
‘Yeah? And what other fucking secrets are you keeping from me?’ Tiny continued. ‘Sometimes I don’t think I know you at all.’
‘Nor me you. Seems I couldn’t even trust you with our Daisy.’
Tiny couldn’t take it any more. He exploded. For the first time in their relationship he hit out physically at his partner. He rocked back on his heels and threw a punch. But thankfully for Billy, although Tiny was built like an ox and threw a punch that was a bolt of steel, he wasn’t fast. Billy saw the punch coming and flung himself to one side. Instead of hitting Billy’s chin, Tiny’s punch landed on his partner’s right shoulder. But Billy went down like a sack of potatoes. He caught the side of his face on the edge of a low table. The skin split and blood ran freely. Billy cried out in pain as he hit the ground and lay for a few moments whimpering.
The very sight of him, injured and bleeding, caused Tiny to fall to his knees beside Billy, take him in his arms and beg forgiveness.
‘You’ve hurt me, you stupid bastard, you’ve really hurt me,’ said Billy. ‘And it makes me wonder what else you are capable of.’
‘Don’t say that, please don’t say that,’ begged Tiny.
All the anger had left him now. His eyes were filled with tears again and he looked totally broken. Billy loved Tiny too much not to feel compassion for him, even as he lay on the ground wiping the blood from his face with one hand and gingerly twitching his sore shoulder muscles.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘It’s all right, darling, I know I went too far. I know what good care you always took of Daisy.’
‘Not good enough, it seems,’ said Tiny grimly. ‘You will never be able to make me feel more guilty than I already do.’
And so it went on, as the two men continued to express their grief and their anger. One minute they were being loving and supportive of each other, and the next hitting out. Although neither did so physically because they both feared the consequences — Billy because he was the weaker and Tiny because he knew he was so much stronger.
At some time during the day Michelle phoned; to see how they were, she said. Tiny took the call. He asked if there was any news of a post-mortem examination on Daisy and Chump.
‘I’m sorry, Tiny, but apparently the powers that be have decided there’s no point,’ Michelle replied. ‘They say it’s obvious how the dogs died. And there’s all this stuff going on about not wasting public money...’
Tiny ended the call and told Billy what Michelle had said.
‘Not wasting public money,’ he repeated. ‘How dare they?’
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ said Billy, putting a consoling arm around his partner. ‘We’ll get the dogs’ remains returned to us and ask our vet to do a private post-mortem. The bastards can’t stop us doing that.’
A couple of times they spoke to George on the phone. After all, he was going through the same thing they were going through, wasn’t he? Or rather, they tried to speak to George. He seemed to be in an even worse state than either of them. He couldn’t stop crying long enough to formulate words.
It was a black day for all the friends. Seven of them had now been directly touched by some mysterious or at least unexplained event, ranging from the seemingly innocent and vaguely amusing to the malevolent, the malicious, and the downright evil. Only Michelle, Ari and Alfonso had not been the victim of either some kind of prank or worse.
‘So far,’ said Alfonso, when Ari had called him that morning.
‘Yes, well, for myself I wouldn’t mind something happening — something small and inconsequential that is,’ said Ari. ‘I think the others are beginning to suspect us three.’
‘Oh, come on,’ said Alfonso, who didn’t believe anyone could ever seriously suspect him of wrong-doing. ‘I know it’s not me, and I don’t believe it could be you or Michelle either. You’d have to be crazy to cut up two dogs like that. As for deliberately setting out to harm Marlena, we both adore her. And why would anyone want to do that?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ari. ‘I’m bewildered by all of this. But it looks as though someone did set out to harm Marlena. And did you know the police have finally sat up and taken notice? Some CID buddy of Michelle’s called Vogel, supposed to be a bit of a genius, he’s already been to see Greg and Karen and Marlena.’
‘I heard,’ said Alfonso. ‘Well, all I can say is I hope he sorts this mess out before, before...’
‘Before what, Fonz?’ asked Ari.
‘Nothing.’
‘You were going to say before someone dies, weren’t you, mate?’
‘Of course not,’ said Alfonso.
Vogel spent the next couple of hours going over the data he had compiled thus far. He was like that. Methodical. Painstaking.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Michelle and whether or not she could be involved in the unpleasant series of events he was investigating. He’d been fretting about her ever since Marlena had made that reference to the policewoman having been away on a training course he now knew had not existed.