‘That’s Jimmy Nunn!’ she said excitedly. ‘He was a racing driver. I reckon he could have been the fourth man, Linda! Terry could have brought him in to the team. That’s why he’s not mentioned in any of Harry’s ledgers — that’s why Dolly can’t find out who he is... he was new.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘I remember Terry going on about him. How good he was, how no one could catch him. I think he must have driven the lead truck. It makes sense. Why else can’t we find him? He was new.’
Suddenly sober, Linda took the photo from the album. ‘Don’t say anything to Dolly,’ she said. ‘Not till we’re sure. I want to find him, Shirl, please let me find him and then we’ll tell Dolly.’
‘How you going to find him?’ Shirley wasn’t at all convinced, but Linda seemed desperate.
‘Please, Shirl.’ Linda begged again. ‘Let me do this. I’ll do it right, I promise.’
Shirley nodded reluctantly and Linda was out the front door like a shot. Jimmy Nunn... she was determined to find the bastard who’d left their men to die. But, more than that, she was determined to prove to Dolly that she had a brain in her head and that she was part of the team.
Detective Chief Inspector Saunders’s face was expressionless as he listened to Fuller complaining. Occasionally Saunders would look up from the file Fuller had given him, give Fuller a quick nod as though he was still listening, and continue to read.
Fuller was in full flow, keen to get it all off his chest. ‘I don’t want it to seem as though I’m telling tales out of school, sir, but you should know how DI Resnick’s handling this case. And it seems to me, sir, that the Mayfair case needs more officers and I could do some real good there. Instead, I’m sitting outside a dead man’s house and following his wife to the hairdressers or to the convent or when she’s taking her dog walkies. With respect, sir, it’s a waste of resources. And at the weekend... well, it’s costing the service overtime, there’s still nothing to show for it, and it’s impacting team morale.’
As Fuller continued venting his spleen, Saunders wandered to his office door and opened it. Fuller instantly fell silent.
‘You don’t have to like him,’ said Saunders, ‘but you do have to work with him.’
Fuller stood and reached across Saunders’s desk to retrieve the file he’d brought with him.
‘I’ll keep that,’ Saunders said.
Saunders closed his door behind Fuller and took a deep breath. Fuller was a good, hard-working officer, but he was no team player. And he would have been surprised by how highly Resnick rated him. ‘He’s a prissy little ponce who thinks he’s better than everyone else,’ Resnick had told Saunders, ‘and he gets my back right up when he acts like the leg-work’s beneath him, because he’s a smart kid. And he’s so anally retentive that not much gets past him. He needs to start listening to his gut more, but he’ll get there. And he might just be right about being better than the rest of the team.’
Fuller puts himself and his career above anything else, which was something that Resnick has never done, Saunders reflected. Resnick was a pain in the arse, but that’s because he was like a dog with a bone when he got an idea in his head. And he was right more times than he was wrong. Like most of the station, Saunders thought Resnick was letting his emotions rule in his pursuit of Harry Rawlins, but then, he’d been framed, so no one could really blame him. It was Resnick’s blinkered attitude that would finally see him pensioned off; Saunders just needed to give him a little more rope to hang himself with. And the file Fuller had just given him was exactly the rope he was looking for.
After a suitable interval, Saunders followed Fuller to the new offices to have a chat with Resnick. In the lovely new annex, Resnick’s new desk was completely empty. Saunders retraced his steps to Resnick’s old office and found Alice filling a cardboard box with files.
Alice froze. ‘DI Resnick was packing as requested, sir, but then I sidetracked him, I’m afraid, so he got a little behind.’ She was a convincing liar. ‘I said I’d finish packing for him, seeing as it’s really my fault he’s behind schedule.’
Saunders gave Alice a gentle smile. He truly admired her loyalty and had always thought that she would have made an exceptional officer. He picked up one of the files from a packed box. It was incomplete and months old. Next, he looked at Resnick’s desk diary: page after page was blank, with no indication of his whereabouts. Saunders’s face flushed at Resnick’s total lack of respect for the rules and regulations of basic policing.
‘When DI Resnick comes in,’ Saunders said crisply, ‘tell him I want to speak with him in my office. Without fail. And no excuses this time, Alice.’
Chapter 21
Linda was feeling pleased with herself. After a phone call to Brands Hatch racing circuit and a bit of flirting and digging around, she’d managed to find out where Jimmy Nunn lived. And it turned out that no one had seen him for a while: the mechanic she’d spoken to had said he’d be grateful if she’d jog Jimmy’s memory about the fifty quid he owed him. I bet he’s a right charmer, she thought, recalling the way her Joe used to charm small ‘loans’ off dozens of people so he could take her away for a posh weekend.
Now, Linda sat in a Greek cafe in Old Compton Street, looking out of the window waiting for Dolly. When Linda had called Dolly at the convent, the Mother Superior had been sitting just yards away and Dolly had been in no position to question why Linda was asking for a meeting just for the two of them, and out in the open. Dolly will be dying to know what on earth was so important, thought Linda, smiling to herself. For a change, Linda was looking forward to seeing her. She was the one with something to offer; she was the one who should be listened to, just like when she brought Bella into the team. She felt powerful.
As Dolly’s Merc pull up opposite, Linda waved to the cafe owner for two more coffees. She watched Dolly, Wolf tucked under her arm, pop some coins in the parking meter and stare across the road at the little cafe. Just come in, you snooty old cow, it’ll be worth the trip!
Dolly sat down opposite Linda, stony-faced. She couldn’t stand the heavy smell of cooking fat and fried food, hated the way the smell of these greasy spoon cafes lingered on your clothes. The Greek owner carried the coffee over, spilling some into the saucers, and wiped his hands on his filthy, food-stained apron. The Demis Roussos hit ‘Forever and Ever’ started up on the jukebox; the record was scratched and sounded tinny over the cheap speakers.
Dolly looked at the dirty rim of her small espresso cup with distaste and waited for Linda to start talking.
‘Do you know Jimmy Nunn?’ Linda asked, knowing this was unlikely.
‘Never heard of him,’ Dolly replied.
Linda decided she’d better get to the point pretty quick. ‘I think he was the fourth man. The one who did the disappearing act on our fellas.’
Dolly said nothing. She waited for Linda to speak again.
Linda slid a folded piece of paper wrapped around the photo of Jimmy Nunn she’d taken from Shirley’s photo album across the table to Dolly, like a spy delivering a secret message. ‘He’s an ex-racing driver friend of Terry’s. That’s his address. Thought you might want to suss him out, seeing as you’re the boss. Then I think we should all have a meet, don’t you?’
‘I’ll say when we have a meet,’ said Dolly. ‘And this one being in public might not be doing us any favors, Linda.’
‘You’re a dab hand at losing the filth by now, ain’t ya?’ Linda said.
Dolly ignored her. She read Jimmy Nunn’s address, glanced at the photo, and then put them in her coat pocket.