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“Why would they do that?” asked Frank Thornton.

“That’s what we want to know. As Sean said, we’ve opened a real can of worms now. At the moment, we don’t have a clue who’s organizing all this, but Pollard is swearing his innocence.”

“What do you think?” asked Sharp.

“I’m not sure what to think, Colin. All I know is that he’s implicated somewhere along the line, but whether or not he’s actually murdered Wilson and made Hobson and Knight disappear is another matter. You guys can all read body language well enough to know when someone’s guilty. Pollard definitely seemed shocked at hearing of Wilson’s death, and did quite a bit of shouting when he thought he was being fitted up for it.”

“He could be a good actor. Does he have a brief?” asked Paul Benson.

“Oh, does he,” replied Reilly. “Only Wilfred Ronson.”

“Oh, Christ,” said Colin Sharp. “He’s more twisted than a spiral staircase.”

“Precisely,” said Reilly.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No,” replied Gardener. “Pollard made his phone call, only to find that Ronson was on holiday and will not be back until Wednesday. So Sean and I are going to the office tomorrow to find out exactly where he is, why he’s on holiday, and whether or not we can find anything that implicates him in all of this.

“Something will tie these men together. I’ve no idea what, where, or even when, but even if we can find only one answer, it may put us well on the way to solving the rest of the puzzle.”

“But with the exception of Pollard, none of them seem to have any medical experience, and maybe not even an electronics background,” offered Bob Anderson.

“You could be right, Bob, but once we’ve dug a bit deeper, we may find something that will contradict what we think. And as far as Pollard is concerned, I’ve asked the super for a twelve-hour extension. His time runs out at four o’clock in the morning. I for one don’t intend to be around, but I suspect that as the information comes in tomorrow, we’ll need to speak to him again.”

“I’ve made up a folder of photos for the rest of the team, sir,” said Cragg. “We’ve got plenty of mugshots of Hobson and Knight. Maybe they can use them to see if anyone’s seen anything.”

“Thanks, Maurice, much appreciated.”

Gardener turned his attention to Patrick Edwards. “Anything on the card I gave you this afternoon?”

“Nothing, sir. There’s only one toy shop in the area, and he didn’t have a clue. He reckons it’s from a board game of some kind, but no idea what.”

“Okay.” Gardener held the card aloft and glanced at PC Close. “Gary, in view of what’s happening at the moment, I think it best if you stay pretty local to the station, so what I want you to do is see if you can find out any information about this Inspector Catcher card. Try the Internet first. If you come up with anything positive, pass the details to Maurice, who can then get in touch with either Sean or myself. We’ll assign someone, or follow it up ourselves.”

Gary Close nodded, and Gardener suspected he appreciated the gesture.

“Sean and I are pretty sure that the tarot card was left there simply as a means of telling us that the killer knew the victim better than we do.” Gardener nodded to Sean, who told them everything Laura had told him earlier in the day.

“Can I just add something else, sir?” Cragg asked Gardener, who nodded in reply. “The monitor in the shop, the one that Gary saw Wilson on, won’t be any help to us.”

“Too old?” inquired Gardener.

“Well, apart from that the insides are fried. Looks like the bit of work it did in the shop was the last bit it was ever going to do.”

“Thanks, Maurice,” said Gardener. He addressed the team again. “Possibly the work of the electronics genius. Maybe he set it up to do its bit and then fry itself so we couldn’t get anything from it. It’s probably far too old for us to check out but we’ll get the details if we can and it might be worth bearing in mind.”

When he’d finished, Gardener glanced at his watch. It was after ten o’clock. Despite knowing that police work was not a nine-to-five job, he didn’t feel he had any right to keep them any longer.

While each man was leaving, Sean Reilly handed out the photos they would need to help them with the next day’s assignments.

Gardener went over to Maurice Cragg, who was still updating the ANACAPA chart. “How are you, Maurice?”

“Right as nine-pence, sir,” said Cragg, turning to speak to the SIO. “I’m going to have another drink, and then finish all this.”

“Maurice, I really appreciate the time and effort you’re putting in, but please don’t overdo it. You’ve worked some hours today.”

 

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