The Cloned Identity by David Hughes Page B

sorry, Joe – I can’t tell you that; and I want your promise never to tell anybody about that picture. You see, we can’t use it for evidence, so it doesn’t exist – OK?”
    He took a deep breath. “OK, boss,” he said as he handed the picture back. He suddenly smiled. “The uncle, right?”
    I looked at him and held my hands apart and shrugged my shoulders.
    â€œSo what next?” Joe asked, sitting down.
    â€œWe don’t have a file on him?”
    â€œWell, no, boss – we never put him in the frame.”
    â€œThat’s right, Joe. None of us suspected him; yet, when you think about it, he is the only one who could have done it. He is the only one she would have trusted enough to let in late at night. She would have never looked at him as a lusting male – it just wouldn’t have occurred to her.”
    â€œYes, you are right, boss. It all starts to slot in.”
    â€œThat’s right, Joe. He is the missing first piece – the key. So, Joe, I want you to handle this – start investigating him. We can’t use the picture, so we need other evidence – but, Joe, keep it to yourself. Remember he has friends in high places. Keep Mike and Jenkins working on other leads and don’t leave the file round the office. OK, now I think you should start by looking into his background. Check how long he has been in this job, previous employment, etc., etc. And, Joe, I don’t want his boss getting wind of our investigation. I want it all sewn up before we go public – no loose ends.”
    â€œOK, boss, I’ve got the picture.”
    â€œNo, you haven’t; I have.”
    I picked up the picture off the desk and put it back in my pocket. We both smiled and Joe got up and left. I watched that damn door start its closing routine and grinned to myself as I thought about the can of worms I was about to open. Oh, yes, DI Watson was alive and well and on his way back. I would need to get the maximum publicity from solving this case. The Professor’s need for anonymity was a bonus, as I could claim all the glory. Yes, sir, things were looking up. I would have to renew my acquaintances on the daily papers and call in a few favours that were owed; I might even get in touch with Sylvia and make up for lost time. Thinking about that brought back a few memories, and I smiled to myself as I sat there swinging from side to side with my hands clasped behind my head.
    Later the next day I met Joe in a café on the far side of our manor. We found a quiet corner and he took the new file from his briefcase.
    â€œSo what have you got so far?” I asked him.
    â€œI went through DVLA and found that before coming here he was at Adwell in Essex, so I found that they had a golf club. I noticed our suspect had a set of golf clubs when we were round there.”
    I nodded.
    â€œI rang the club secretary and made out I was vetting him for a committee member. He knew our suspect very well. Not only that, but he didn’t like him. Anyway, the rumour that went round was that there was a bit of bother regarding a lady.”
    I sat up. “What sort of bother?” I asked.
    â€œIt appears he got friendly with this woman – a spinster – and he rather misread the situation. But instead of accepting that she wasn’t interested, he kept pestering her. She complained to his bosses, and when that didn’t do the trick she made a complaint to the local police. As a result he was moved on to – well, we both know where to.”
    I carried on stirring my tea and waited while Joe sorted his notes.
    â€œHere we are. I phoned Adwell nick, and the sergeant there remembers the case, but there is no paperwork. Apparently a deal was made that if he was moved, she would withdraw her complaint.”
    â€œThis sounds promising, don’t you think, Joe?”
    â€œYes, boss, and there’s more: I checked back through some of the