Death Message (DI Nick Dixon Crime) by Damien Boyd

Author:Damien Boyd [Boyd, Damien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2023-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

‘That went well,’ said Louise, the door slamming behind them. ‘And what did he mean, “Have you changed your mind about the job?”’

‘I went for an interview at their Weston office.’

‘You’re leaving the police?’

‘Let’s try the production company that made that documentary. They spent weeks trying to find out who he is, so maybe they know something they didn’t broadcast?’

‘You’re staying on Van Gard?’

‘We are.’

Dixon was in the newsagent’s buying chocolate when Louise caught up with him a few minutes later. ‘You all right, Sir?’ she asked.

‘Blood sugar’s a bit low,’ he replied. ‘Well?’

‘They’re based in Swansea, but the documentary was produced and directed by Danielle Kemp. She’s in Bristol today, over at UAB as it happens.’

‘Doing what?’

‘She’s a guest lecturer on the Filmmaking course.’ Louise looked at her watch. ‘She’s there now.’

Turquoise was an odd choice of colour for cladding – the building looking more like a spaceship than anything else. Still, at least there was a parking space and a small canteen.

The back wall of the lecture theatre was glass, the seating tiered down to the front where a woman was pacing up and down, occasionally turning to gesture to a presentation slide on the screen behind her.

‘That’s Danielle,’ said a familiar voice to Dixon’s left. He turned to find Malcolm Ratcliffe sidling up to him. ‘One of my old students and now a documentary filmmaker. Very talented she is, too.’

‘Is Evie Clarke a student of yours?’ asked Dixon.

‘She is. I’ve already given a statement,’ replied Ratcliffe. ‘Your lot are over at my department now, interviewing everybody. She’s one of our better students, to be honest, and I hope to God she’s all right.’ Ratcliffe frowned. ‘What’s your interest in Danielle?’

‘My interest is in Van Gard, and Miss Kemp made the documentary.’

‘Never found out who he is, if that’s what you want to know.’

‘Doesn’t everybody?’

‘She’s finishing in five minutes,’ said Ratcliffe. ‘She’ll use the side door, along the corridor and down the first flight of stairs. You can’t miss it.’

Dixon pushed open the door a crack to find Danielle Kemp standing down at the front of the lecture theatre, surrounded by students firing questions at her, more waiting their turn to do the same thing.

‘Go and rescue her,’ said Dixon, watching from the side door as Louise stepped forwards with her warrant card at the ready.

‘Thanks for that,’ said Danielle, her relief evident. ‘Most of them are just after a placement with my production company.’ She was stuffing her laptop into a bag slung over her shoulder, the cable still dangling from a side port. ‘And it can get a bit tiring.’

‘Tea?’ asked Dixon, gesturing to the canteen.

‘Just a boiled water for me.’

Tall, dangerously thin, with short dark hair; jeans and a baggy pullover.

‘You were a student here, I gather,’ said Dixon. Small talk would do until Louise got back with her notebook, and the teas.

‘Fine Art.’ Danielle took a fruit teabag from her laptop case, then slung the case over the back of her chair. ‘I should’ve done Filmmaking, as it turned out, not that it would’ve done me any good.

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