Of course, he might just be riding for a hobby; but if he was still teaching Thelwell kids to fall off ponies, where was the stable? Hyde Park? Richmond Park? Somewhere out west of London, Uxbridge, Denham, whatever? The field was huge. She started west of Ealing and worked a sort of arc northwards round London, but got no nibbles. It was when she had got as far as Harefield that the word Sarratt on the map caught her eye. Amanda had said Frith was an old friend. She came from Sarratt. And Sarratt was a country place where they’d just as like have horses. Give it a try. What harm?
She found the right place at the first attempt: a stable just outside Sarratt called Hillbrow Equestrian Centre. She knew it was the right place because right there on the website at the top under the title it said, ‘Proprietor: Robin Frith BHSI.’ What did BHSI stand for, she wondered. Big Hairy Sappy Ijit, maybe. It was a grand class of a place: swanky-looking stables with a clock-tower yoke in the middle of the roof. Indoor manège, all-weather outdoor school, cross-country course. Offered tuition in cross-country, dressage and showjumping, as well as basic lessons. Also did livery. Young horses trained. Children a speciality, hacks in the beautiful Chiltern countryside, blah blah blah. Maybe with all that going on, he was making some money, he wasn’t just a no-hoper after all.
‘I used to ride when I was a kid,’ she told Slider when she took it to him. ‘Summer hollyers in Connemara and Kerry. And not just beach ponies – I went in for gymkhanas, even did a bit of cross-country once. So I can talk the talk, guv. If I went to this place saying I wanted to take it up again, sure I could find out something about the boss.’ To his apparently doubtful look she added, ‘Most of the people who work at stables are females. If your man Frith is a bit of a Bob, they’ll all be secretly in love with him. They’ll be gagging to talk about him to someone.’
‘I don’t doubt you could get them to talk,’ Slider said. ‘I’m just wondering if it’s the best use of your time.’
‘Well, guv, the ex-wife’s the only connection we have, and we know the deed was done by a man. If they’ve been shacked up such a long time and she did want the doctor done, who’s she going to turn to? And you did say he’d dark hair and was wearing work boots, and that’s all we know about the killer.’
‘All true.’ Slider sighed. ‘Well, we don’t have such a hell of a lot of leads, so you might as well find out what you can.’
‘Thanks, guv.’ She turned away eagerly, and he called after her.
‘But remember it is a village, where gossip spreads like wildfire, so don’t go giving anyone the idea that Frith is a suspect, OK?’
‘You can trust me, guv. I’ve just got a feeling there’s something queer about the set-up, Lady Connie and the gamekeeper, and him moving in so quick after the divorce. There’s a story there.’
‘I’m all for stories,’ Slider said. ‘As long as they lead us somewhere.’
From the way Fathom bounced into Slider’s room, bringing with him the faint fragrance of sweat mingled with Obsession for Men, it was obvious he had not come simply to chalk up another NTR from the Front.
‘Guv, I think I’ve got something!’
‘All right, I’m buying. In fact, I’ll have two.’
‘Come again?’ The large, excitable lad was not very quick on his mental toes.
Slider waved it away. ‘What have you got?’ He enunciated clearly for the hard of thinking.
Fathom presented a video cassette. ‘CCTV,’ he said proudly. ‘Well, you know the Aude female said when she was hanging off the balcony, she saw the perp go down the end of Hofland and turn left?’
‘Yes, into Masbro Road. But don’t call him “the perp”. You’re not on CSI.’
‘Sorry, guv. Well, I was on the canvass and I’m going down Masbro in the same direction – like as if I’d turned left out of Hofland – and I get this feeling someone’s looking at me. You know what I mean. I looks round and I see this security camera. It takes a minute to register—’
‘I’m sure it did,’ Slider murmured.
‘There’s this school down the end of the road.’
‘Yes, Masbro Primary.’
‘Well, the camera’s in the school yard, high up on a pole. I s’pose they’ve all got security problems these days. But I reckon if this one’s aimed at the school-yard walls, maybe there might be a bit of the street in it as well. So I goes in and talks to the school seckertree, and she lets me have a look at the tapes. And this is Mundy’s.’
‘Stop hanging it out,’ Slider said. ‘Can you see anything?’
‘Yes, guv. That’s what I’m telling you.’
Slider grabbed the tape and walked rapidly through the CID room to the cubby where they kept the viewing equipment, gathering a little trail of his firm as he went. It was the usual sort of security video, grey and grainy, with the date and time in the corner. The view was the brick wall dividing the school yard from the street, with the iron gate in the middle of it; but true enough, the camera had been set high enough to see over the wall as well, and a section of the street, heavily parked on both sides, was visible, with the junction with Hofland Crescent in the distance.
Using the time cue, Slider ran it forward to six fifteen. There were few people about, just the occasional man or woman walking jerkily down the street on their way to the tube, and the odd car passing. The cue ran on towards six twenty.
‘There!’ said Fathom. He had the benefit of having viewed the tape a few times already. The rest of them squinched up their eyes and prayed. A small figure had appeared in the distance, apparently leaping out of nowhere, because of the way these tapes took exposures with breaks in-between. As he jerked towards the camera, it could be seen that he was wearing dark trousers and a blouson-type top.
Right place and roughly the right time. It could be their man. Slider wasn’t getting excited yet. He almost did when the figure reached under his jacket – were they going to see him dump the gun? – but what he got out was something small enough to conceal in his palm. Next minute, it became obvious what it was, for the man squeezed between two parked cars into the road, then passed along the offside of the front one and bent to aim the key and plip the door open. He got in, backed and filled a bit to get an angle, and drove away in the direction he had been walking, the bulk of the car disappearing below the line of the school wall and out of shot.
The breathless silence was broken.
‘We got something at last.’
‘Good on yer, Fathom.’
‘Brill, Jezza!’
‘It could be our man.’
‘Can you see the number?’
Slider, ever cautious, said, ‘We can’t be sure it’s him.’
‘There aren’t that many people around,’ Atherton said. ‘And he must have come out from Hofland – you could see he didn’t come from further down the road.’
‘Guv, there’s something else,’ Fathom said eagerly. ‘If you go back a bit further, you can see him arrive. He had to park there, it was the only space. He’s trying to look normal, he just takes the space, and walks, not hurrying I mean, up the road and disappears down Hofland. But here’s the thing – he arrives about ten past six, and no one else arrives at that time. So it’s gotter be him, hasn’t it?’
Slider ran the tape back further and watched for himself.
The man sat in the car a few minutes before he got out, but they couldn’t see what he was doing. ‘What’s he up to?’ Swilley complained.