‘We can’t afford to brush this off too easily,’ Radnor said finally, making a decision. ‘Palmer could be trouble, directly or indirectly.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘We should move. Another base, away from Harrow. Let the dust settle. In the meantime, the black and the woman watching Palmer might be a useful smoke screen to keep his attention diverted.’
‘What if they aren’t? What if Palmer and his friend get in our way?’
‘That’s your job. Make sure they don’t.’
Chapter 17
From the inside of Riley’s Golf next morning, parked in the same spot Palmer had used on his first survey of the office block, they sat and watched as a procession of police and forensics personnel buzzed around the area. Whatever commercial activity normally went on inside the building appeared to have been suspended, as there was little sign of the usual ebb and flow of corporate visitors or staff, and one or two arrivals were clearly put off by seeing a uniform at the door.
They watched Nobby do a brief tour of the outside, carefully avoiding a taped-off area to one side of the building where the police activity seemed to be focussed. From the concentration and position of the forensics team, Gillivray had fallen from a side window, landing close to the building in dead ground just outside their view.
‘Odd place to jump from,’ said Riley.
Palmer nodded and studied the building through a small pair of binoculars. ‘Especially since the windows don’t look that big. No way you’d fall out of there by accident.’
‘So you’re thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Somebody helped him out.’ Palmer chewed his lip and put the binoculars away.
A police constable left the car park and strolled along the street towards them, inspecting vehicles. He spoke occasionally into his radio, no doubt passing on registration details for vehicle checks. Riley sank down in her seat.
‘If he comes close, I’m not going to snog you, Palmer,’ she warned.
‘Thank God for that,’ Palmer murmured.
Just as they thought they were going to be spotted, the constable stopped barely thirty yards away and listened to his radio, then turned and hurried back to the building.
Riley looked at Palmer. ‘Go on — you’re relieved, aren’t you?’ she accused him. Then she sat up as the rear door of the building opened and the familiar figures of Radnor and Michael appeared. They were carrying briefcases and coats, and headed towards a cab which had pulled into the rear car park.
‘Stroke of luck,’ said Palmer. ‘While the cats are away…’
‘You’re not saying we go in there now?’ Riley checked to see if he was serious. ‘The police are all over the place.’
‘It’s the best time.’ He opened his door. ‘The world doesn’t stop just because one of its low-lifes has taken a one-way ticket to the Great Beyond.’ He picked up a leather dossier case on the way out of the car, and Riley scrambled after him, holding a plain, black briefcase she had been given as a present several years ago but rarely used.
They were stopped at the front entrance by a uniformed officer. ‘Can I ask what your business is, please?’ he queried.
Riley showed him her business card and told him they had an appointment with Azimtec on the first floor. Hopefully, he was unaware that its two main members had just left by the rear door. He studied them both for a moment, then nodded and stood aside.
They approached the desk where Nobby sat waiting, barely managing to control a faintly bewildered expression at their arrival. Across the foyer stood two men in suits, talking quietly. They bore the distinct air of police officers, but didn’t look at the newcomers.
‘Sir. Miss,’ said Nobby, standing up and assuming a non-committal expression. ‘Sign the book, please?’ He pushed the visitor’s book towards them, followed by two badges. This time Riley filled in the spaces using their own names, as the chances of being stopped and asked for ID were too strong. This time they had decided to go in under cover of Riley doing a speculative piece about art imports from the former Soviet Bloc, with Palmer stringing along as an advisor. It might not fool anyone for long, but since it involved half-truths and would be impossible to disprove, it was as good a story as any.
‘You know where to go,’ said Nobby, for the benefit of the police, before sitting back down and picking up his paper. Clearly, said his body language, nothing unusual was going on here. As if to reflect that, the two men turned and walked towards the rear of the building, one of them holding a set of building plans.
Riley suddenly had a thought and leaned across the desk. ‘Can you contact Jimmy and ask him a question for me?’ she said quietly.
‘Sure. What is it?’
‘Ask him if he ever saw a tall black man with dreadlocks going up to the first floor, or if he ever knew of Azimtec employing a driver who was black?’
Nobby nodded and reached for the phone, adding, ‘The police have been through the building interviewing everyone. They did Azimtec half an hour ago.’
Riley smiled her thanks and followed Palmer, who was on his way past the lifts and up the stairs, fingering the badge clipped to his lapel. He flashed the back of it to Riley. Behind the badge was taped a key. Once they were out of sight of the security cameras by the lifts, he ripped it off and headed for the solid wooden door of Azimtec Trading.
Seconds later they were inside, listening to the silence of an empty office and, from outside, the hum of traffic in the street and the muted sound of voices from the forensic team. Palmer locked the door.
According to Jimmy Gough, who had phoned earlier, they had just over an hour before the accountant arrived for his stint. Nobby had told him that a taxi had been ordered to take Radnor and Michael to the airport, and that he believed the two men were on their way to Glasgow for the day, having overheard them discussing flight details.
Palmer stood still as if absorbing the atmosphere around him, then slipped the key into his pocket and pulled on some thin rubber gloves.
‘What are we looking for?’ asked Riley.
‘Not sure yet. Don’t touch anything. Just use your eyes. If you see anything interesting, let me move it and you remember its position.’
They were standing in an area approximately twenty feet by twenty feet square. Although it was in the same position as the one they had seen on the sixth floor, it held no reception counter and no chairs. Thinly carpeted, it contained only a plain desk against one wall, and a side table holding a single telephone. There were no pictures on the walls, no signs leading to other offices and no indication that it ever served to welcome visitors.
‘Friendly atmosphere,’ muttered Palmer. He nodded towards a door to their right. ‘This way.’ It opened onto a bare, uncarpeted corridor. The first door on the left was to an office containing a desk, wastebasket and a small cupboard. It smelled unused, with a thin layer of dust over everything. It was the same with the next room and the next, each roughly ten by ten and intended for single use.
They retraced their steps to a door on the opposite side of the foyer. This opened into a well-appointed office, with decent carpeting, pleasant décor and comfortable furniture. A large desk in the centre of the room was blank save for a telephone, a wire correspondence tray, a small clock and a blotting pad. A bookcase stood against one wall, the shelves lined with a selection of volumes interspersed with statuettes and some glassware. A small fridge stood in one corner next to a table holding some glasses and a bottle of mineral water.
Palmer tried the desk drawers. They were unlocked and full of office desk clutter from notepads and paper to paperclips, spare pens and personal detritus. He was about to flick through them when he noticed the way in which the contents were so evenly scattered. Everything looked just a little too casual, too neat, as if it had been set up to look like a million other desk drawers. Yet it wasn’t.