Implant (DI Gardener 3)

“Unless what we’ve seen recently contradicts that. Who was the victim?”

“Robert Sinclair’s son, Adam.”

Chapter Forty-five

Gardener put the pens on the table and decided not to bother with the chart for the moment. Instead, he crossed the room and took the newspaper from Cragg, sat down, and read the article about Sonia Knight. When he’d finished, he asked Cragg to try and remember exactly what he could about the unsolved crime surrounding Adam Sinclair’s death.

“It’s my opinion that Adam Sinclair was killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sure we had witnesses that say he was coming home through the town by himself one night. It was late. I think he’d been to a party.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but a few last-minute revellers leaving a lock-in say they saw a chase. Three men running from what looked like Smiddy Hill through to Birdgate, two men after one. There wasn’t any shouting or cursing, but they were going at it pretty fast. No one seemed to think it was serious, so no one bothered to see where it ended up. We see that sort of thing all the time. Not all of it leads to crime.”

“On Monday morning we find Alex Wilson crucified in his uncle’s shop. Was Alex Wilson involved in this fracas four years ago?” Gardener asked.

“I think so,” replied Cragg.

Gardener continued. “On Tuesday morning, we find Sonia Knight glued to a chair in the waiting room of the Bursley Bridge railway station, who subsequently dies when we get her to the hospital.”

Gardener stopped talking and called Fitz on his mobile, inquiring about Wilfred Ronson. Despite the fact that the elderly pathologist couldn’t tell him a great deal, he did confirm that he had found an ICD in Ronson’s chest, with external wires going into his heart and elsewhere on his body. From what Fitz could see, Ronson’s heart had been fried.

Gardener ended the call and continued with his summary.

“This morning, we meet a solicitor off the train at Shipston. We now know he was victim number three. Fitz found an ICD in his chest, which delivered a massive electrical charge to his heart, killing him instantly.

“We have an idea that two people are involved, one of whom – Graham Johnson, the electronics genius – is now dead. That leaves us with the medical man.”

Reilly took over. “And your man here tells us that we have one very respected medical man whose wife and son have died in mysterious circumstances, and our victims are involved. Doesn’t take a genius to work out that when we dig a little deeper into this, we might find they’re all implicated.”

“I agree, Sean, but we still need to connect all the dots.”

The traffic cop coughed and drew Gardener’s attention. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have to get back to the scene.”

“Yes, thanks for letting us know. Can you make sure you follow up on what I asked?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man left the room and nearly collided with Steve Fenton, the CSM.

“A couple of important things for you, sir.”

“I hope so,” said Gardener, rising out of his chair. He didn’t really like talking to any of his team from a sitting position, unless they were seated as well. Apart from the fact that he felt at a distinct disadvantage, he saw it as bad manners.

“The call to Ronson’s phone came from a mobile owned by Graham Johnson.”

“Johnson?” replied Gardener, astounded. “Have you any idea where he was?”

“Not exactly,” replied Fenton. “We’ve traced all the masts in the area. Nearest we can get it is Bursley Bridge.”

Gardener wondered where. He couldn’t possibly have been back in the shop, because they had it sealed off and it was currently being searched. A man h

ad been posted outside all night, and he hadn’t reported anything. So where the hell had Johnson been?

“Any chance you could really narrow it down? Tell us to maybe within fifty yards where it came from?”

“It’s a tall order, but we can try.”

Gardener thought about what Cragg had told them. Graham Johnson was Robert Sinclair’s brother-in-law. Perhaps that’s where Johnson had been. The case against Sinclair was building, but there were still things he needed to know.

“You said you had a couple of things. What’s the other?”