Fatal Quest by Sally Spencer Page B

you if you had any idea where the guv’nor is?’ Woodend repeated.
    Cotteral reached for his eraser, and began to rub gingerly at the surface of his report.
    â€˜He’s in one of the interview rooms, Sarge,’ he said, almost absently.
    When he’d been a sergeant in the army, Woodend thought, he’d never have tolerated this casual attitude from the other ranks. But then, the army had been different. The officers he’d served under had had confidence in him, and would have backed to the hilt whatever action he’d decided to take, whereas Bentley …
    â€˜What’s the guv’nor
doin
’ in the interview room, DC Cotteral?’ he asked. ‘Talkin’ to a suspect?’
    â€˜Not a suspect
as such
,’ Cotteral replied. ‘He’s having a bit of a chat with a coloured woman.’
    The iron band tightened another notch. In later years, when he had learned to respect his gut more, Woodend would take it as a certain sign that something had gone seriously wrong. But for the moment – even though what he’d just heard was disturbing – he wasn’t entirely convinced it was any more than just acid indigestion.
    â€˜A coloured woman?’ he repeated. ‘Do you happen to know her name?’
    â€˜As a matter of fact, I do.’ Cotteral consulted his report. ‘She’s called Victoria Jones, and she lives at 36 Balaclava Road, Canning Town.’
    â€˜Since you’re the one writin’ the report, I’m assumin’ you’re the one who brought her in.’
    â€˜That’s right. I was.’
    â€˜Are you bein’ deliberately bloody minded, DC Cotteral?’ Woodend demanded.
    â€˜No, Sarge,’ Cotteral said, looking innocent.
    â€˜Then tell me who
told you
to bring her in. Did you do it on the guv’nor’s specific instructions?’
    Cotteral chuckled. ‘Oh, they were certainly his instructions – and they were definitely
specific
enough.’
    Woodend sighed heavily. ‘Life is full of choices, Cotteral, an’ I’m about to offer you one,’ he said. ‘You can either give me a complete run down on exactly what happened …’
    â€˜I’m not sure the guv’nor would be happy about me doing that, Sarge.’
    â€˜â€¦Â or you can run the risk of breakin’ your bloody neck when I haul you out of the chair an’ throw you across the room.’
    Cotteral blanched. ‘Fair enough, Sarge,’ he said, after a few seconds had passed. ‘At around half past two, the guv’nor got a phone call in his office – and that’s when things started happening.’
    â€˜Who was this phone call from?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Cotteral said. Then, as Woodend started to move towards him, he shrank back into his chair and continued, ‘I swear to you, I don’t know. But whoever it was, it had an effect on him, because five seconds after he’d rung off he came tearing out of the Lair like he’d got a red-hot poker up his arse, and said he wanted the woman picking up.’
    â€˜Did he tell you
why
he wanted her pickin’ up?’
    â€˜No, he didn’t.’
    â€˜But he must have told you what to say to her if she asked why she was bein’ brought in.’
    â€˜He didn’t do that, either,’ Cotteral said evasively.
    â€˜The choice is still yours,’ Woodend growled. ‘Tell me what I want to know or find out what it feels like to fly through the air. It’s really up to you.’
    â€˜He wrote her a note, put it in an envelope, and told me to give it to her,’ Cotteral replied sulkily. ‘He said once she’d read it, she’d come quietly.’
    â€˜What was in the note?’
    â€˜I don’t know! Bentley had
sealed
the envelope before he gave it to me, and I wasn’t going to open it, was I?’
    â€˜So what happened once you got to Mrs Jones’s