A few minutes later, Commander Hawksby slipped out of the side door of the cathedral and headed for Scotland Yard. He had two things on his mind: who had taken over from Rashidi as the new drugs supremo, and what could Ross have meant by a coincidence he wasn’t going to like? That would have to wait until the boffins in the basement had taken the empty cigarette packet apart and revealed its innermost secret.
‘William’s already left for work,’ said Beth, holding a baby’s bottle in one hand and the phone in the other. ‘Can I pass on a message?’
‘No, I want to tell you both the good news in person,’ said Christina.
‘Clue?’
‘You’re worse than William.’
‘Why don’t you come round for a drink this evening? It’s William’s turn to bath the twins, so with any luck he’ll be home by seven.’
‘That’s something I can’t wait to see,’ said Christina. ‘I’ll be with you soon after seven.’
When the commander arrived back at Scotland Yard he went down, not up, taking the stairs to the basement, where he walked quickly towards the office at the far end of the corridor. He didn’t knock before entering ‘spook world’.
‘Good morning, sir,’ said a white-coated lab assistant, looking up from his microscope. ‘It must be important for you to come in person.’
‘It is,’ said the Hawk, as he handed over the empty Marlboro cigarette packet.
‘Then I’ll get to work on it immediately and send the results up to your office as soon as I have them.’
‘I’ll wait,’ said the commander, taking a seat.
The scientist nodded before returning to his desk. With the help of a pair of tweezers, he extracted the thin sliver of foil from inside the cigarette packet, before laying it on a bronze plate. The Hawk reflected that he would for ever be in debt to Professor Abrahams for introducing him to the Electrostatic Document Analysis machine, which was now part of Scotland Yard’s standard investigation kit, and had proved far more reliable than most witnesses, not least when it had come to proving that Beth’s father, Arthur Rainsford, was innocent of murder.
The young scientist placed a sheet of Mylar film on top of the foil, then took a tiny roller from the shelf above him, and moved it slowly over the entire surface of the film until all the air bubbles had been removed.
He then put on a pair of dark safety goggles before switching on an infrared corona, which he held an inch above the bronze plate, scanning it backwards and forwards to identify any indentations on the surface. He next picked up what looked like a pepper pot and sprinkled photocopy toner across the silver paper until it was fully covered. He waited for a few moments before gently blowing the surplus toner off the plate. Finally, he peeled away the thin layer of Mylar film, and bent down to see if his experiment had produced anything worthwhile, well aware that the Hawk was now standing over him, waiting impatiently.
He stood aside to show that he’d finished, and the Hawk stared down at the tiny letters that had appeared on the surface of the silver foil. It didn’t take him long to realize what the coincidence was, and the line Booth Watson would be taking when he presented the case for the defence.
‘Impressive,’ was the Hawk’s immediate reaction. But Rashidi would still have to explain the photograph in the silver frame, which Booth Watson wouldn’t be able to dismiss quite so easily.
‘He hasn’t got back from the Yard yet,’ said Beth as she opened the front door to find Christina standing on the doorstep, clutching a bottle of champagne.
‘Then this will have to wait until he does,’ she said, ‘which will give us a chance to bath the twins.’
‘But I want to hear your news!’ cried Beth. ‘When it comes to time, William can’t always be relied on. To quote him, crime doesn’t necessarily fit in conveniently with the twins’ bath time. So, can I assume you’ve found a new man?’
‘No, but I’ve found the old one,’ said Christina, as Beth put the bottle of champagne in the fridge. ‘And before you ask any more questions, the answer is no. Not until William gets back.’
‘Then you could be staying overnight,’ said Beth. They each picked up a twin and carried them upstairs to the bathroom, Artemisia and Peter basking in the extra attention they were getting and gurgling with delight. They both heard the door slam and a few moments later William marched into the bathroom to join them.
‘Just in time to dry the little monsters and put them to bed,’ said Beth, ‘while Christina and I go downstairs and enjoy a glass of champagne.’
‘What are we celebrating?’ asked William as he wrapped Peter in a towel.
‘Christina won’t tell us until you’ve put them to bed.’
‘Fine by me,’ said William, as the two women abandoned him to his task. This was always his favourite time of the day. In fact, he didn’t go back downstairs until he’d read another chapter of PC Plod and the twins had fallen asleep.
He strolled into the living room to find Beth topping up Christina’s glass with champagne.
‘Just in time,’ she said, ‘otherwise we might have polished off the bottle before Christina gets round to telling us what we’re celebrating.’
‘Should I assume you’ve got a new boyfriend?’ said William, trying to look interested.
‘No, you should not,’ said Beth, handing him a glass. ‘I’ve already asked that question, and I’m none the wiser. So, shush.’
‘Well then, you must have sold the land at Limpton Hall for an exorbitant amount?’
‘Old news,’ said Beth. ‘Shush!’
They both stared at Christina expectantly, but she couldn’t resist taking another sip of champagne before saying, ‘Miles is dead.’
5
‘When and where is the funeral?’ demanded the commander even before William had sat down.
‘Geneva, sir. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning.’
‘How did he die?’
‘The local police report says he suffered a heart attack during the night.’ William opened his notebook. ‘A maid discovered the body early the following morning. A line of cocaine and a credit card were found on his bedside table.’
‘A pity. I’d hoped for a slower death,’ said the Hawk. ‘But why Geneva?’
‘I expect he had a numbered Swiss bank account with no name attached.’
‘And a banker who didn’t ask too many embarrassing questions about his last known address,’ said the Hawk. He paused for a moment. ‘Right, I want you to fly to Geneva and make sure we aren’t being led down another blind alley. I won’t believe Faulkner’s dead until you’ve seen the body being lowered into the ground and the priest has given the final blessing. And don’t leave before the gravediggers have completed their job.’
‘I think he’s going to be cremated, sir.’
‘Then be sure to bring back his ashes so we can display them in the Black Museum along with all the other notorious criminals who’ve made it to the Met’s chamber of horrors.’
‘Should I take anyone with me as backup?’
‘Yes, take DS Roycroft. If you both tell me Faulkner’s dead, I just might believe it.’
They had agreed to meet on the Circle line between 9.00 and 9.15 that evening. They would board the Tube at different stations and meet up in the rear carriage. The meeting would last no more than five stops; they didn’t want to risk being seen together for any longer than was necessary. Once their business had been completed, they would get off at different stations and go their separate ways.