Pewe didn’t disappoint.
‘Clearly, Roy, you believe in the possibility that Eden Paternoster, far from being murdered and her body dissected, may still be alive and well and in hiding?’
‘It’s one hypothesis.’
‘Do you have others?’
‘Three. The second is that she was murdered, either by her husband or by Rebecca Watkins — or by both of them — and her body subsequently dismembered, some of it buried in Ashdown Forest, some deposited in the sea off Shoreham Harbour. My third is that Niall and Eden Paternoster have conspired together to fake her disappearance.’
‘For what reason?’
‘Financial. I’ve been reading up on that couple, the Darwins, where the husband, John, faked his death to look like a canoe accident in the North Sea some years ago. He did it with the connivance of his wife for financial reasons in that case, collecting the life insurance on him. Emily Denyer is currently looking hard into the Paternosters’ finances as a major part of our enquiries.’
Pewe ran a manicured finger, sporting a Wedgwood signet ring, through his golden hair. ‘Would I be correct in saying that in your view, Roy, in all three of your theories, there is no life at stake at the present time? No life in danger? Eden Paternoster is either dead, or alive and well and in cahoots with her husband, or something else entirely? Would you agree with that summary?’
‘On the evidence so far, yes. Sir.’
Pewe smiled, his upper lip rising like a theatre curtain, revealing a stage set of immaculately whitened teeth. He looked to Grace, at this moment, like a piranha in a blond wig.
‘Here’s my dilemma, Roy. With the greatest respect, one of our Surveillance Teams is currently engaged in an operation to try to protect a teenage girl we believe is being trafficked into the sex trade by a Brighton criminal gang. This is vital work to protect a vulnerable person.’ The gleam of his teeth again, before he continued with the sucker punch.
‘I have a request, from the Divisional Intelligence Unit, for surveillance to monitor a very large drugs consignment believed to be on its way from Liverpool to Brighton. If they can put this in place, they think they could scoop up some of the major players on the Brighton drugs scene. So, what should I do with my resources? Deploy my Surveillance Team to discover the outcome of a marital dispute or to potentially save the lives of many Sussex citizens by cutting off a major drugs supply chain? I don’t like to raise this today of all days, but life has to go on and decisions have to be made.’
‘I don’t think it’s as straightforward as you think, sir,’ Grace said.
‘You’re suggesting it’s not as clear-cut about the Paternosters?’ Pewe retorted.
‘Correct — sir.’
Pewe opened out his arms expansively. ‘So, convince me.’
‘I need more time to keep him under surveillance,’ Grace said calmly. ‘As I told you, something’s going on that I’m not happy about. At this moment I’m still of the opinion that Niall Paternoster may have murdered his wife, with or without the help of Rebecca Watkins.’
‘But you are also considering that Eden Paternoster may have set this up and disappeared of her own volition? Or conspired with her husband?’
‘Yes, I am.’
Pewe picked up a globe paperweight on top of a stack of papers on his desk, then laid it back down again. ‘To repeat myself, you currently have no evidence of a life at stake. You also currently have very little evidence that Mrs Paternoster has been murdered. Correct?’
‘Correct.’
‘So what do you need the Surveillance Team for now?’
‘I need them to continue monitoring Niall Paternoster’s movements. If he has conspired with his wife, he may lead us to her. If he has murdered her, he may lead us to her body — we know that killers frequently return to the deposition site. It’s possible that the grave in Ashdown Forest could be a decoy. As I told you, I’m unhappy about the location the kitchen knife was found in.’
‘You’ve also told me you don’t think Niall Paternoster is very bright. Now you’re saying he’s bright enough to have created a decoy grave and left a clue, in the knife, in an obvious place? Or perhaps conspired with his wife to fake her disappearance?’
‘All of these are current possibilities, sir.’
‘There’s a tracker in place beneath his rental car, placed there by the Surveillance Team?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have access to the data from the tracker?’
‘We do. On our computers and phones — and tablets.’
‘Fine,’ Pewe said. ‘It seems to me that for now the Surveillance Team has served its purpose. I’ll leave it with you until 6 p.m. today after which I’m going to redeploy it to the Liverpool operation. But I will instruct Mark Taylor to leave the tracker in place. You and your team will be able to monitor Paternoster’s car on your computers, tablets and phones. The rest you’ll have to do the old-fashioned way. Right, I think that’s all. Don’t forget to let me know when Bruno’s funeral is.’
Grace glared back at him.
93
As Roy Grace left Pewe’s office, his private phone rang. It was Cleo. He answered walking down the stairs. ‘Hi, darling.’
‘How’s your day going?’ She sounded strangely on edge.
‘Not great, tell you in a moment, just hang on.’ He hurried along the ground-floor corridor, past the offices of several senior officers and support staff who worked in the handsome Queen Anne building that gave the HQ its name, Malling House, and out into daylight. ‘Just been properly dicked about by you-know-who again, even after everything we’re going through. Such an idiot,’ he said quietly, although safely out of earshot now.
‘You won’t be for much longer, hopefully.’
‘Nope. How are you? You OK?’
‘I was OK, until a boy, a year older than Bruno, was brought in — went under the rear wheels of a twenty-tonner yesterday on an electric scooter.’
‘The one I read about in the Argus?’
‘That’s it. I told the team I was sorry — I just couldn’t handle it. I’ve come home.’ She began crying. After a few moments, through sobs, she said, ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be disturbing you.’
‘Of course you should. I couldn’t have handled that either, certainly not at the moment. I’ll be home as early as I can.’
‘No,’ she said, her voice on the edge of cracking. ‘Stay as long as you need, keep your mind occupied — there’s no point sitting at home dwelling... I just needed to get away.’
There was a brief silence as Roy walked on up the hill towards his office, then, sounding a little more composed, Cleo said, ‘I’ve just spoken to the funeral director — Mr Greenhaisen. Subject to a couple of lab reports from Bruno’s postmortem that she’s waiting on, the Coroner is happy to release his body tomorrow. The vicar of All Saints, a lovely man, says he could fit the funeral in on Monday, September the thirtieth.’
‘Thanks, that’s good news.’
‘He’s given me a list of stuff we need to go through — we can discuss all that tonight when you get back. We’ll need to decide on the music and whether anyone should do a eulogy.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I can’t immediately think who.’
‘Maybe you could say a few words?’
‘OK, we’ll discuss it later. I really do want this to be a private family affair. I’ve a feeling bloody Pewe is planning to come and I want to keep him out.’
‘I’ve just had Bruno’s headmaster on the phone. The school are already conducting their own investigations and it appears Bruno got out over the gates. He asked me to pass on his sincere condolences and said that he and several teachers would like to attend, and perhaps some of Bruno’s schoolmates.’