When Night Closes in Read online

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Go along then, but take care what you say, these policemen can be very cunning when they want to be.’

  Outside, the sun was shining but the air was chill. Lowri pulled her jacket closer around her body noticing that her clothes felt loose, she must have lost weight. She shivered; the wind was easterly, cold. She looked at the bare branches of the trees: autumn was well established.

  Once in the Mazda, Lowri sighed and leaned back, enjoying a moment’s peace before starting the engine. She seemed to be lurching from one mishap to another, she reflected. Her silly attempts at playing amateur detective down at the Swan had come to nothing, and now her suspicions about Sally seemed churlish, to say the least. Sally was a very attractive girl: why would she need to steal Lowri’s boyfriend?

  She turned the key in the ignition and as the engine burst into life she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes drawn towards a man standing in the shadow of the office doorway. Her stomach lurched; for a moment she thought she was looking at Jon Brandon. She turned to have a better view but the doorway was empty.

  ‘I’m imagining things now!’ She spoke aloud as she pushed the gear lever into first. ‘I really must get a grip on myself.’

  She drove carefully along the roadway and into the town, guiding the car through the one-way system with the ease of long practice. She had travelled this way to visit Jon so many times, so long ago, another lifetime it seemed. She swallowed hard. It did no good to dwell on the past, it was time she learned that.

  She still felt cold so she turned on the heater. The air blew cold against her feet – the engine was not warm enough to generate a flow of heat. With a sigh, she turned it off again and concentrated on her driving.

  Lainey looked grave as he led her into one of the interview rooms. There was no-one else present and Lainey, seating himself behind the desk, did not switch on the tape. That was reassuring; it meant the interview was informal.

  He studied her face for a long moment. She smiled at him and he sat back in his seat as if she had slapped him.

  ‘Have I got a spot on my nose? You were staring.’

  He sighed. ‘Lowri, what is going on here?’

  She was puzzled – what did he mean? Could he be referring to them, to any feelings that might be growing between them? She was afraid to speak in case she said the wrong thing, so she just looked down at her hands.

  ‘Lowri, you are involved in this business up to your neck, aren’t you? Just talk to me, then we might get somewhere.’

  Her heart plummeted. It was police matters he had in mind, nothing more. She had been a fool even to imagine it could be anything else. She felt like bursting into tears. The door opened and a woman PC carried in a tray and placed it on the desk. The aroma of coffee rose enticingly from the squat mugs.

  ‘Thank you, Jen.’ Lainey smiled at the girl and Lowri felt an absurd pang of jealousy. She watched the WPC walk away, noticing that she was very young and very slim with slender, black-clad legs. Lainey was surrounded by young intelligent girls; why would he even bother to look at her?

  ‘Sugar, two wasn’t it?’ Lainey did not wait for her nod of approval. He spooned the brown crystals generously into her cup and pushed it across the polished desk towards her.

  ‘Jim,’ she said quietly, ‘if you don’t believe in me I’m lost.’ She gulped her coffee and it burnt her mouth.

  ‘How can I believe in you when all the evidence points to you being at least an accomplice in Brandon’s illegal business matters? I’m asking you if you know anything – for heaven’s sake tell me!’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything. It sounds stupid, I know. All I’m guilty of is being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  He sighed. ‘Anything, even the slightest detail, might help me get somewhere in all this. It’s like peeling an onion, skin after skin and no clue to what’s underneath.’

  Lowri drank more coffee, the hot sweet taste giving her courage. She looked directly into Lainey’s eyes and he blinked.

  ‘I swear to you, Jim, on my mother’s life I am innocent of any crime,’ she said earnestly. ‘I am telling you the truth, I am baffled, and if you want to know I’m bloody scared, as well.’

  ‘Why?’ He sat up straighter. ‘Has anyone threatened you?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not if I forget the brick thrown through my window and the intruder who broke into the house.’ She forced a smile. ‘But I take care to lock and bolt the doors and windows and I lay traps at night for anyone else who might try to break in.’

  ‘What sort of traps?’

  ‘You know, saucepans on the window-sills, plates ranged around the front door. All designed to make a row. Then I keep the phone by the bed, just in case all else fails.’

  Lainey studied her for a long moment. ‘Perhaps someone is protecting you.’

  ‘Protecting me? Who and why?’

  He tapped his pen on the desk, a habit he had when he was thinking. But what was he thinking? Lowri would have given anything to be able to read his mind.

  ‘Jon Brandon guarding his investments perhaps?’ He lifted his head. ‘You know that your employer, Mr Watson, was once friendly with your family, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lowri said, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. ‘Though I can’t see what that’s got to do with anything.’

  ‘Humour me. Some years ago, Mr Watson and your father worked together in partnership.’ He glanced up. ‘Nothing illegal, I hasten to add, just the opposite, it was a very respectable business.’

  ‘I knew they once were friends,’ Lowri was puzzled, ‘but I had the idea they fell out over something; at any rate, Mr Watson doesn’t seem all that keen on my father. With reason, I’m sure,’ she added dryly.

  ‘Business partners often move on and forget about each other.’

  Lowri looked at him, wondering if there was a barb behind his words, but he did not meet her eyes.

  ‘Watson and your father operated an advisory service for business people.’

  ‘What about it?’ Lowri said. ‘I can’t see where this is going, to be honest.’

  Lainey began pen-tapping again. Lowri longed to reach out and cover his hand with her own. She waited for him to speak, sipping her quickly cooling coffee.

  ‘I believe they had a serious quarrel. From what I have managed to find out there were legal implications. Your father, it seems, came out of the partnership the richer of the two men.’ He put down his pen. ‘I wondered if your father was putting pressure on Watson to look after you.’

  ‘You must be joking!’ Lowri wrapped her hands around her coffee-mug, clutching it as if for support. ‘My father doesn’t even know who I’m working for and if he did, he couldn’t care less.’ She leaned forward. ‘In any case, protecting me from what, from whom? You want me to talk to you but you don’t talk to me. Why should I need protecting? I haven’t done anything.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  He leaned back in his chair, his voice casual. ‘Lowri, tell me about your life. I want to know all about you.’

  Was this personal now or business? Lowri could not tell. ‘Why?’

  ‘I just do.’

  She smiled. ‘OK, but prepare yourself for the most boring interview of your career.’

  16

  Matthew Brown stared out of the window at next door’s dog running riot in the flower-beds. The weekends when he did not work were a drag. He hated to be alone. He banged the glass but, after a moment’s hesitation, the dog began digging again. He pushed the window wide open, looking for something to throw.

  ‘Get out of my garden, you mangy mongrel!’ he shouted. Shortly after, he heard a whistle from next door and the dog scampered away. That little exercise had done nothing for any good-neighbour policy but so what, so bloody what? Matthew had other things to think about. She had wonderful legs, eyes to drown in and she was an enigma. He had lusted after Lowri Richards ever since he first
set eyes on her. And was he ever tired of playing Mr Nice Guy!

  On an impulse, he picked up the phone and dialled Lowri’s number. The phone rang several times before he heard her voice come over the line.

  ‘Lowri, I’m glad you’re in,’ he said. ‘It’s Matthew Brown, I want to see you.’ Before she had time to make excuses, he spoke again. ‘It’s a little bit of unofficial police business.’

  ‘I’ve heard that somewhere before from Ken Major. I hope this is not just a pathetic attempt to get me into bed. Perhaps I should inform you police officers that I’m not an easy lay.’

  She spoke edgily and who could blame her? ‘It’s nothing like that! I think we should talk. Come to my place, I’ll leave all the doors and windows open if you’ll feel safer.’

  She was silent for a moment and he thought she was going to refuse. ‘OK, Matthew, I’ll be there in half an hour.’

  Matthew gave Lowri his address, replaced the receiver and looked around him. The place was a bit of a mess; perhaps he should tidy up before she came. He was excited by the thought of having Lowri on his own. It had been some days since he had seen her and then she had been in company, Ken Major’s company, while he had been stuck with Sally. But he would need to be careful, no point in scaring Lowri away by criticizing her friend.

  In his bedroom he picked up several pairs of socks and some underpants and then flung the duvet over the bed, smoothing out the creases as best he could. It was a long shot that he could get her into the sack but there was nothing like hoping, and at least she was more of a challenge than silly little Sally White had ever been.

  The kitchen was a bit of a disaster area so he took a bottle of white wine from the fridge and picked up some glasses. Then, with a last look at the chaos, he closed the kitchen door.

  When Lowri arrived, she looked cool and sophisticated in a navy suit. Her hair hung to her shoulders, framing her face, giving it an almost elfin look. She was a beautiful woman, but unobtainable. What was it about her?

  ‘So,’ Lowri said, ‘what’s the unofficial business then?’

  Matthew looked at her legs, slender, black-clad and tempting. A sense of almost unbearable lust filled him. He was a man who needed women, needed a lot of them and often.

  She seemed composed, but her hands trembled as she folded them in her lap. ‘What’s happened, Matthew? Are the police any nearer to finding out anything about Sally?’

  ‘Well . . .’ Matthew wanted to prolong the meeting and instinct told him that once her curiosity was satisfied, Lowri would just get up and leave. In any case, it was not in his interests to reveal too much information; suspicions might be aroused if Lowri started asking questions in the wrong quarter. ‘Well, it’s difficult. Have a drink?’

  ‘Tea?’ she said helpfully.

  ‘How about a glass of white wine? It’s not going to knock you out, I promise.’

  She looked at him and then at the glasses. He read her mind and decided to come clean.

  ‘It’s the kitchen, it’s a mess.’ He shrugged. ‘I haven’t washed the dishes or cleaned up or anything so I thought we would have some wine, less bother.’

  ‘I’m driving.’ Lowri took off her jacket and his gaze was riveted on her breasts as the soft material of her blouse clung to her. He coughed.

  ‘Come on,’ she said, rolling up her sleeves. ‘I’ll help you to clean up in exchange for a decent cuppa. The wine is out, as I said, I’m driving.’

  He winced as he followed her into the kitchen; it looked worse than ever seen through Lowri’s eyes. She pushed some empty milk bottles aside. ‘Any washing-up liquid?’ He picked the bottle out of the debris on the draining-board.

  ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t let you . . . I mean it’s not fair.’

  Lowri was already running the water, letting it get hot. She took the piled-up dishes from the sink and plonked them on the side.

  ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you how to wash up properly?’ she asked. ‘You do the cleanest or, in this case, the least dirty things first. Glasses, cutlery and then the plates with the dried-on leftovers.’

  She washed up efficiently and he stood watching her, wondering at the sense of peace the sight of her was giving him. Was he going soft in the head? She glanced over her shoulder.

  ‘See if you can find a half decent tea towel and start drying.’

  They worked together in silence, the scene needing only the morning news on the radio to complete the atmosphere of happy domesticity. He was going soft in the head, no doubt about it. All too soon, Lowri was finished.

  ‘I’m not offering to put the dishes away for you.’ She smiled. ‘I’m afraid that I might see a piggy mess in your cupboards and I’m not starting on shelves, not on my day off.’

  She returned to the lounge while he made some coffee. For the first time Matthew envied the married men in the service. Playing the field was all very well but there came a time when a man needed stability in his life, and there was no harm in having a bit on the side as well.

  ‘Right, no more beating about the bush, what have you got to tell me?’ She leaned forward expectantly. He saw the long white arch of her neck and the gleam of lipstick on her mouth and realized he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Lowri Richards. The fact that DI Lainey had an eye for her made the situation all the more intriguing.

  ‘I’m waiting. Is this about Sally?’

  He glanced up at her. ‘It’s not anything to do with Sally, I’m afraid, but I thought you would want to know anyway. It’s about Jon Brandon.’

  ‘Jon? Please, just get on with it, Matthew.’

  ‘A small case he was planning to export has been discovered, down at the docks.’ He sipped the coffee; it was so hot it burnt his tongue. ‘Blast!’ The cup jolted in the saucer, spilling hot liquid onto the table.

  Lowri fetched a dishcloth from the kitchen and mopped up the mess. ‘Were you born awkward, Matthew, or did it need training?’ She was laughing at him and he did not like it. ‘Do you want to hear this or don’t you?’ he said sharply.

  She held up her hand; her nails were painted with some pink colour, very discreet, not like the garish polish Sally had favoured.

  ‘OK, sorry, I am all attention.’

  ‘Well, the customs declaration form says the case contains computer things, CDs and some other chips and stuff. It’s all Greek to me.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So it was due to be exported by Jon Brandon a couple of months ago, somehow it was overlooked.’ He stared at her, waiting to gauge her expression. ‘The stuff was meant for Canada and was addressed to one Justin Richards. Coincidence or what?’

  Was it his imagination that she seemed suddenly to be alert? She lifted her cup, holding it with both hands, her slim fingers meeting around the china as if to comfort herself.

  ‘Have the contents of the case been examined?’ She held the cup to her mouth and the steam from the liquid seemed to cast a moistness on her parted lips. He wanted to leap on her, to carry her to his bed, to ravish her.

  ‘Not yet. The customs and excise people are onto it and one of our lot, possibly Lainey, will be there at the great opening.’

  Lowri put down her cup. She was frowning, she seemed genuinely puzzled. ‘But what do they hope to find? Computer parts are not exactly contraband goods, are they?’

  Matthew shrugged. ‘I don’t really know.’ He could not reveal too much – Lowri was pretty friendly with Lainey. In any case, it was possible she knew more than he did and was acting the part of the innocent to perfection.

  ‘Matthew, is that it? Is that what you’ve dragged me over here to tell me?’ She rose to her feet. ‘So some stuff of Jon’s has been overlooked, left at the docks. What’s that got to do with me?’

  ‘Well,’ Matthew said slowly, ‘I thought you might know this Justin Richards, that’s all, same name and all that. Inquiries are being made about him as we speak.’ He wondered if he should reveal a little more.

  ‘The thing is, the cust
oms boys think there’s something else hidden among the stuff. It’s not drugs, the dogs would have sniffed them out. But it’s something illegal, you can bet on it.’

  ‘What?’ Lowri seemed exasperated. ‘What do you all think it is?’ She turned to look at him. ‘You’re not being entirely honest with me, are you, Matthew?’

  ‘I can’t say too much, Lowri.’ He was aware he sounded smug but he did not expect the anger that flashed from her eyes.

  ‘In other words you don’t trust me, is that it?’ She turned away from him, her shoulders hunched. ‘You still think I might be a criminal; you’ve got me here not to tell me what you know but to find out what I know. Well, believe me, I don’t know anything. Can’t any of you get that through your thick heads? Did Lainey put you up to this?’

  If she was acting then she was damn good at it, but, like most policemen, he had heard enough convincing liars in his career to be wary of righteous indignation. He sighed heavily.

  ‘Lainey knows nothing at all about this meeting – my head would be on the block if he did, I’m telling you.’

  ‘Well, what is going on, Matthew? Come on, speculate, you’re a policeman, aren’t you? Do a bit of brainwork, make guesses, anything.’

  ‘All right,’ Matthew said. ‘I think that smuggling is going on here, not of heroin or arms or anything obvious like that, but it could be extortion involving money-laundering.’

  He saw her sink back into her chair. She seemed to be digesting what he had just said, evaluating it. Then she shook her head.

  ‘I don’t even know what that means.’ She picked up her cup again; it seemed she was prepared to stay and talk to him. ‘Have you thought,’ she paused, ‘perhaps it’s not modems or motherboards we should be looking at but disks or CDs containing some sort of information?’

  She was bright, he gave her that. Perhaps too bright for her own good. ‘What sort of information?’

  ‘I don’t know. Pictures of people in compromising situations, or information about porn rings, perhaps. If that is the case,’ she added, ‘the information would have to be protected in some way.’