“Friday Fiction” series: “The Fishing Trip,” Part Two…
[Note from Steve: Wishing a joyful holiday season and Happy New Year to all my readers. This is the third story about the “Earl of Penrith.” Enjoy!]
The Fishing Trip
Copyright 2022, Steven M. Moore
“I don’t understand. I gave you that business card. He gave it to me.”
“Did he or does anyone in your family have connections to Scotland?” Sally said.
Earl was letting her run the interview again. Women often thought he was a gruff old bloke.
“Some cousins, Sergeant. A lot of people across northern England have Scottish friends and relatives.”
“Whereabouts, ma’am?”
She sighed. “I suppose I could make a list. They’re mostly in the west and center. One family even runs an inn near Loch Ness. Not the best place in winter, I dare say.” She smiled. “I guess the tourist industry is in our blood. I know my relatives best. My husband had some in Glasgow as well. I’ve lost contact with most of them. But why would Wayne be living up there?”
Earl didn’t want to say what he was thinking. He could imagine a very lucrative employment for an expert pharmaceutical chemist. He’d need to consult with Penrith PD’s Drugs Enforcement Division. Their investigations often led to liaisons with the NCA’s drugs division, but the coppers at Penrith PD knew a lot about the drugs trade.
“We’d appreciate a list of any names you can remember, Mrs. Simmons,” was all he said.
Their calls back at the station soon included the new names. One of Mr. Simmons’ relatives in Glasgow was candid. “I once asked Wayne why he hadn’t taken advantage of all that schooling. His answer was, ‘I am.’ I didn’t like his sleazy smile. But I’m prejudiced. I never liked his sister, but I liked him even less.”
“So, he was in Glasgow?”
“Oh, sure. For a while. Can’t say we saw him that much, which was okay by me. He was a bit creepy, I dare say.”
“So, you weren’t going to the daughter’s wedding?”
“What wedding? I didn’t even know my cousin had a daughter, Inspector.”
“Um, thank you for your information, sir.”
***
When Earl told Sally about that conversation, she had the same reaction. “Maybe Mrs. Simmons’s baby brother had a life she didn’t know about. In any case, Wayne ended up in Glasgow. We still have to connect the dots from Birmingham to there, and from there to here.”
“A very secretive life, Sally, one that might have got him killed.”
She nodded. “Someone wasn’t too happy with him, that’s for sure. Someone who doesn’t like boats.”
“How’s that?”
“I would have filled his pockets with rocks, rowed him out to the middle of that lake, and dumped him. Depending on that boat sinking was a mistake.”
He smiled. “That’s why we’re such a good team. You see things that I don’t.”
“I can’t see that my observation helps. A scrote who’s afraid of water or boats was obviously still a murderer.”
“It might limit our search to the middle of the country, though, away from the coastal areas. I’m afraid we’re going to have ask NCA for some help, bless their dark, spooky souls.”
Long ago in London, Earl had worked under DS Matthew Finley as his DC. They’d shared a loathing for their DI at the Met and become friends and drinking mates. Matt was now with the NCA, so Earl called him.
After some pleasantries, Earl got down to business. He told Matt about the case and what they knew about the victim so far.
“I know Drake, and let me warn you that you should take what they told you with a grain of salt. Big Pharma is often international—they like to test questionable drugs in Africa, for example—and they don’t even like the whiff from authorities snooping around. Drake might be clean in general, but they probably cut corners just like the worst of them. I’m suspicious of any pharmaceutical corporation that manufactures both the patented and generic forms of a drug overseas and markets them both in the UK.”
“That’s allowed?”
“Just about everywhere for the international corporations.”
“So, you think Ross might have really worked for Drake?”
“Doing things we might not approve of, yes. The most profitable way to market a drug these days is to make it addictive so customers keep buying it. So many people self-medicate now. My daughter ordered some cough syrup from Bulgaria. I had it tested. It had some trace amounts of some really nasty stuff in addition to codeine. Definitely not appropriate for young children! If anything, these places’ quality control can be sorely lacking.”
“Um, I guess they think adequate quality control costs them too much money. But how would Ross be involved in something like that? He’s a skilled scientist.”
“Good question, and I can’t answer it specifically for him. What I can do for you, old friend, is push it up the ladder, maybe even to Gretchen herself.”
“Who’s Gretchen?”
“Gretchen Williams, the director of our drugs division. She’ll know someone who might be able to tell us how Ross was spending his time, and why he was so secretive about it.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Not if you lose the case.” Matt laughed. “Marra, I know you so well.”
“Indeed. I just want to solve a murder case. NCA’s investigations all too often go far beyond that. They want to close down an entire drugs syndicate. They can do that if that’s what this case leads to as long as I can solve my case.”
“From what you’ve told me, the world’s probably better off being rid of Wayne Ross.”
“That’s not for us to say.”
“Of course not. I’ll try to get back to you by day’s end. On a lighter note, how was the fishing?”
“Neither the father-in-law nor I caught anything, but my other guest landed one. Beginner’s luck. He also spotted the rowboat with Ross’s body in it.”
“Sign him up!”
Earl decided not to tell Matt that was what MI5 or NCA had wanted to do.
***
Matt didn’t return Earl’s call; Director Williams did. “Matt brought me up to speed on your case. We’ve been interested in Drake, and Wayne Ross in particular, for a long time, Inspector Wilson.”
“You can call me Earl, ma’am.”
“If you call me Gretchen. Ma’am makes me feel old. You will be asking why we’re interested, I’m sure. There’s a lot of bad stuff coming in over the border. Maybe Drake’s not involved directly, but they’re not drugs you can produce in an old farmhouse somewhere.”
“Coming from Glasgow, are they?”
“Drake has factories all over. A lot in India and in the old SSRs like Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Romania, and Slovakia. But Edinburgh and Glasgow seem to be the source of much of the bad stuff, so either it’s manufactured there or they’re ports of entry. You probably don’t care as much about where the drugs are made or who distributes them, only about Ross’s involvement. We suspect he comes up with the formulas that make it hard for us to tell the good stuff from the bad.”
“With the price of drugs these days, I suppose lots of customers mail order them. That should lead you to the distributors.”
“People do that at their peril. And the orders usually are made on the internet now. The customer’s order might seem to go somewhere legit, but it can end up at a questionable distributor. That makes it hard for us.”
“I’d think the manufacturers, Drake or otherwise, wouldn’t want to call attention to themselves by selling tainted drugs.”
“Not all consumers are affected. The nasty stuff can be something as simple as cheap binders producing bad side effects in only some people, including hallucinations and psychotic episodes.”
“And Wayne Ross would be the person to formulate the drug with those cheaper ingredients?”
“Maybe not on purpose, but his task might be to produce a cheaper product. He, and they, might not know or care how that’s accomplished.”
“Well, he’s dead. My task, my only one, is to find out who killed him. Any suggestions?”
“Let’s assume he had second thoughts about what he was doing and wanted to expose Drake’s bad practices. What would the VIPs at Drake do?”
“Hire someone to kill him?”
“Bingo. That’s my guess, but don’t say it came from me. And that hired killer knew Ross was going to a wedding in your area.”
***
Earl saw Sally’s worried frown after he told her about the chat with NCA’s VIP.
“Let’s forget about making me have aggro thinking about the prescribed meds in my future and focus on my worry that we’ll have a cold case. There’s no chance that Ross’s murder’s still in the area, is there?”
“No, unless he wants to make sure we get no joy in our investigation. But here’s another question that might unsettle you: How did the murderer know Ross was coming here for a wedding? Clearly he had to be near Ross in some way, either physically or communicating with him. Besides that, why didn’t he just kill Ross wherever he was at before he came to the Lake District?”
“What if he’s a local? He’d only have to wait until Ross came to him.”
Earl pondered that and then smiled. Something about Mrs. Simmons had been niggling at him for a while. He pulled a file folder from the pile on his desk. “Didn’t you think that Mrs. Simmons was a bit overdressed for running a boarding house?”
Sally shrugged. “Market day? Visiting a friend? Who knows? What’s in the file?”
Earl waved some papers. “A list of board members for Drake Pharmaceuticals.” He handed the first sheet to his sergeant. “Look at the fifth name.”
“Ross? So they lied. He did work for them! Oh, Helen Ross, not Wayne Ross. Mrs. Simmons’s first name is Helen, and her maiden name is Ross!”
“Drake lied, but Mrs. Simmons lied as well. She knew all about Drake.”
“And she had to know what little brother did there. Or somewhere else so Drake could claim he wasn’t on the payroll. So, what’s the conclusion?”
“I’m not sure, but I believe another visit to the boarding house is in order.”
***
Sally and Earl were relaxing in the pool car a bit before entering the boarding house in order to sort out how they would question Helen Simmons when a taxi pulled up. Earl supposed one of the residents would come out, suitcases in hand, and drive away in the cab. Instead, it was Simmons. They jumped out of their car as the cabbie took her suitcases and tossed them in the boot.
“Going somewhere, ma’am?” Earl said.
She spun around to face him. “Sergeant, Inspector. What a pleasant surprise! So nice to see you again.”
“Just answer my question, ma’am.”
“If you must know, I’m off to visit some relatives in Glasgow. Barb can’t decide yet on another date for the wedding, and you plods are taking your time with Wayne’s body, so I thought I’d take a holiday to calm my frazzled nerves. Business is slow this time of year anyway.”
Earl thought that her facial expressions had covered a wide range of nerves, anger, and suspicions about their sudden appearance. But he thought she was very good at lying on the fly. He didn’t need her in an interrogation room to determine that.
“I bet it was a letdown for those relatives and others that Wayne’s death delayed the wedding.” She quickly nodded at his suggestion. “Did you inform Helen Ross on the board of directors of Drake as well?”
“I have no idea who or what you’re talking about. I recognize that company name, of course. Wayne used to work there.”
“Not according to them. And they never mentioned that Helen Ross was on the board. We discovered that. Interesting coincidence of surnames, don’t you think? I see that your necklace is now rubies and emeralds. How many shares do you own, ma’am?”
“I-I-I need my inhaler.” She pretended to go into a wheezing fit and started to rummage in her purse.
Earl stepped forward and took it from her. “If true, I bet you don’t use Drake’s brand. Aha! What do we have here?” Earl held up an old .38 pistol for Sally to see. She smiled. “Did you really think you could kill two police officers and get away with it, Mrs. Simmons?”
“Max, do something!” she cried to the cabby.
Sally went into her martial arts readiness stance, but the cabbie’s eyes were on the gun. “He’s got your gun, Helen.”
“And we’re all going to take a little trip back to our nick. You two will go handcuffed, of course. Sally, I’ll exchange this nasty little pistol for your cuffs to do the honors, and then you can first call for backup and second for a search warrant for Helen’s quarters in the boarding house. Who knows what we’ll find?”
***
Hours later in an interrogation room, Earl confronted Mrs. Simmons, nee Helen Ross, with the evidence they had against her: Legal papers showing that she owned nearly sixty percent of Drake Pharmaceutical’s stock; Wayne’s documents and a folded wedding invitation, showing her attempts to delay the police’s investigation; and written testimony from the cabbie, where he explained how he’d helped the woman take her brother’s body to the lake. Earl thought the latter was just icing on the cake because it was hard to get rid of blood traces in a car’s boot—something always remained.
She then made her barrister’s life difficult by offering even more testimony that now would be on videotape.
“That little shite developed a conscience! He was going to ruin everything. What he was doing for Drake was putting us back in the black, damn it! He made me so mad when he started blathering about scientific ethics and morality, so I belted him a good one.” She slumped. “Don’t know my own strength, I guess.” Her cold eyes stared into Earl’s. “What will happen to me?”
“In the old days, you would hang, madam. Nowadays you’ll probably be King Charlie’s guest for a long time. I don’t think you’ll be on Drake’s board of directors anymore. In fact, I seriously doubt that Drake or its subsidiaries will survive after NCA gets through with them.”
She sighed. “Tell me, Inspector, why did you plods worry so much about finding Wayne’s murderer? That silly prat deserved what he got!”
Earl winked at Sally and then smiled at Mrs. Simmons. “Our job is to solve crimes, ma’am. A murder was committed, and we went about solving it. But never fear. NCA will clean up your mess. And you will have plenty of time in your cell to think about what you’ve done. A very long time.”
***
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“Inspector Steve Morgan” novels. You met DI Morgan in The Klimt Connection. In these three stories, he has a starring role. In Legacy of Evil, loose ends from Celtic Chronicles are resolved…and then some. The brutal murder of an old man starts things off, and three more occur. In Cult of Evil, Morgan’s team has a cult murder to contend with, and an assassin after Morgan adds an additional worry. In Fear the Asian Evil, the sister-in-law of Morgan’s sergeant is shot, and pursuing her shooter leads the team to a spy network. As a set, these three novels represent an ideal holiday gift for your family and friends who love British crime stories. Available wherever quality ebooks are sold, just not on Amazon.
Around the world and to the stars! In libris libertas!
