Impression (DI Gardener 4)

“Looks like she lied at the trial, and she certainly lied to you,” said Briggs. “Drag her down the station tomorrow morning, early as you like. Question her under caution.”

“We’ll make it first thing. Have you found anything else, Colin? Any hint that connects the three of them further?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Keep on it, but well done. That’s just the kind of break we needed.”

Patrick Edwards stepped forward. Gardener wanted a little more from Benson but he figured Edwards must have something further on Morrison.

“Sir, we managed to run the druggies to ground, the ones who lived in Morrison’s flats.”

“Excellent, did they squeal?”

“After a while. Seems they’ve had a couple of good days selling the stuff because the money’s all been profit, going straight into their pockets and no rent to pay either, now that he’s pegged it.”

“What was the score there?”

“Barry Morrison let them live there for a small rent because he creamed fifty percent off whatever they made on the drugs. And it was all cash.”

“At least we know where his money was coming from. Where are they now?”

“We’ve let them out for the time being, but told them to report back every day while we look deeper into what was going on.”

“Did they know Stapleton?”

“Yes. Morrison was renting her out, and he had her dealing.”

“Did they know why?” Reilly asked. “How he managed to keep her there?”

“I got the impression they were all pretty frightened of him. Seems he had something on all of them, maybe even enough to send them all down.”

“Any ideas?”

“No.”

“Keep on it, Patrick,” said Gardener. “Find out everything you can. Let’s have a list of their clients, and one of Stapleton’s if possible. Which reminds me, have you retrieved any more information from her mobile or her diaries?”

“Sorry, sir, I’ve been tied up most of the day with the drug dealing scum.”

“It’s okay, Patrick. Don’t apologise, you’ve only got one pair of hands. Get back on to the diaries and phones tomorrow and see what you can find. In fact, go through all the phones: Morrison, Stapleton, Sargent, and Fisher. There will be a link somewhere.”

He glanced at Anderson and Thornton. “Talking of Fisher, did you find out if he’d ever attended the clinic in Bond Street?”

“He didn’t,” said Anderson. “All his treatment was at the St James hospital. They wouldn’t tell us much, patient confidentiality and all that.”

“Can we have a warrant tomorrow, seize their files on Fisher?” Gardener asked Briggs.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll get on to it in the morning.”

Gardener nodded, made a note on the board.

A knock on the door had all heads turning in that direction. The desk sergeant popped his head through the gap.

“Just had a call from the locksmith. He’s identified that safe deposit key in Morrison’s stomach. Said he was coming in, but he’s had to attend an emergency. He’s hoping it won’t be long, but he does want to come and see you.”

Gardener nodded. The desk sergeant left.

“Attend an emergency?” said Anderson. “What kind of an emergency would a locksmith have at eight o’clock at night?”