Brock And Kolla - 09 - Spider Trap by Barry Maitland

Author:Barry Maitland [Maitland, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Contemporary, British Detective
ISBN: 9780312369088
Published: 2006-01-01T13:00:00+00:00

Kathy arranged to visit the Rainbow Coordinator at the area command that covered the elder Singhs’ home in Streatham. There they identified the cameras operating in the immediate area. There were none in the Singhs’ street, but a local council camera covered its junction with a shopping street at one end, the most likely direction of approach. As she talked to the coordinator, Kathy began to appreciate the difficulties.What exactly was she looking for? She had a list of cars registered to members of the Roach family, but Ricky was a car dealer and could presumably lay his hands on any number of other vehicles. Then there were the unknown associates and employees who may have been sent to give the Singhs the message. In the end, the coordinator agreed to try to provide a list of all the vehicles that had passed through the junction over a four-hour period on that night.

‘You realise that’ll probably be a couple of thousand? Who’s going to authorise the request?’

Kathy gave Brock’s name and returned to her office, where she found two phone messages, one from forensic services and the other from a Mr Connell. She stared at the name, feeling a slight flush in her face, then rang the first number.

The man at forensic services began by apologising for the delay. ‘We’ve had a rush of work and you did say it wasn’t top priority.’

Kathy didn’t at first recall the job, and the man had to remind her about the cigarette end she’d found behind the fence overlooking the railway site.

‘That spliff you sent us. Interesting smoking mixture, must try it some time—tobacco and marijuana, half and half, with a garnish of cocaine. Prime sensimillia ganja, too, nothing cheap. Mr Murray has the right connections.’

‘Murray?’

‘The smoker. We’ve got his DNA on file. George Murray. Done for possession in a raid on a South London nightclub eight months ago.Charges dropped due to processing irregularities.We should have wiped the record. Oops.’

‘Do you have an address?’

‘Eighteen Cockpit Lane, SW9. Know it?’

Kathy did. She could picture the sign over the window, WELLINGTON’S UTENSILS EST. 1930.

She thanked him and then, more cautious this time, pressed the numbers for the second call, a mobile.

‘Martin Connell, hello?’

The voice still had that sonorous tone, which could be so skilfully adjusted to each occasion: a TV news soundbite, a judge, a former lover.Kathy waited a beat before revealing which one it was.

‘Hello, Martin.’

‘Kathy! It’s so good to hear your voice again. Seeing Bren Gurney the other day made me think of you. How are you?’

‘Fine.You?’

‘Yes, great.You know what I was thinking, while Gurney was going through all that nonsense?’ He said it as if he knew perfectly well that she’d been watching.‘I was thinking how really good it would be to see you again, have lunch, catch up.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I know, you’re frantically busy and we’re just old history. But we were important to each other once,and I think it’s wrong to lose contact completely with people who have been

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