UG3 Diminishing Returns   Chapter 09     Agent Tammy?

 

Sophie was at home on Saturday, having crept in after dark, so the pair managed to get a pile of laundry, cleaning and shopping done. Although first Heather had to give her fiancée a sealed pink envelope.

“Happy Valentines Day, my dear.”

Heather wasn’t expecting anything back from Sophie and wasn’t disappointed. She did, however, get a kiss.

“Where are you next week, Sophie?”

“I have no idea, it all depends what happens.”

“It would be nice to have a predictable week?”

“Unfortunately the criminal community don’t work like that.”

The shopping was immediately after lunch and the pair hit Tesco together whilst trying to plan the following week’s meals, despite not knowing how the week would progress.

They’d been back only a few seconds when the secure phone rang. It rang off before anyone could open the office door then started again as Heather got off her knees with the encryption key.

"Hello Tammy."

"Hi Heather, I tried a minute ago."

"We heard it but were coming in the door laden with loads of bags from Tesco, by the time I had the office door open you'd rung off."

"Okay, I have some updates for you."

"Fire away, whoops mustn't say that in case Sophie's nearby!"

"Does she carry a gun?"

"Sorry, that's a 'need to know'."

"I'll take it as a yes, then. Okay, the nuclear site that looks likely is the Royal Navy nuclear submarine development base, also at Dounreay."

"Good, what else do you know about it?"

"Not much but I'll look it up when my laptop finishes updating. Oh, I've asked if I can have a look around with a school trip next month."

"That's a great idea."

"It seemed like the right thing to do, Sarah's had a call from the golf club by the way."

"Oh, we hadn't arranged anything yet, what was the problem?"

"Repairs are needed so no bookings being taken until next month."

"Have they informed Ms Lane?"

"Not yet, but I'll ask if the school can host the event."

"Anything else?"

"No, but it all sounds rather strange and there's almost a plot for a thriller there."

Heather laughed. “Are you going to the Valentine Ball tonight?"

"How do you know of that?"

"There was a poster in the Castletown Hotel bar."

"Oh, no I'm not, the Doctor's keeping me on a tight leash."

"Never mind. Any Valentine cards?"

"One."

"Who? We might need to have them vetted?"

"Don't know, can we check the envelope gum for DNA?"

"Really, Tammy! Are you that bothered?"

"No."

"Then why did you raise it?"

"I didn't, you asked!"

Heather wondered if an immaturity was showing through? "Never mind, I need to get some work done including sorting out dinner."

"I have that task today too."

"Off you go then."

"Bye."

She locked up the office and headed back down, Sophie was busy chopping vegetables into an oven-proof dish. Heather, for a second, had an image of Sophie in a frilly apron.

“Oh, you decided on a casserole?”

“It was one of the options.”

“Tell me, what do you know of that platform off Helston?”

“Not much, why?”

“Just a suspicion right now, but the person who was caretaker out there is now living in Truro.”

“That doesn’t sound odd, people change roles all the time.”

“That much is definitely true, Sophie. Would you like a hand?”

“Sure, peel some spuds please.”

Heather was back in the pool on Monday and this time started to enjoy herself. The ‘music’ wasn’t Heather’s normal genre but it was high energy designed to keep the ladies moving. Heather was feeling pain but promised herself this was temporary. She was seen by the instructor on the way to the changing rooms.

“How did you find it today?”

“I ran out of breath a few times.”

“But you pushed past that, well done.”

“I took your advice, and I’m getting out more.”

“Excellent, we’ll have you running a marathon in no time.”

“Please? Really?”

“Okay, maybe a 10K run.”

“Will a run for the bus or train count?”

Because of their weekend shopping trip Heather hadn’t booked a delivery but she decided to get into the office and shower later. She sat down, with a coffee, just after ten thirty and caught up with the daily notices. The phone rang at eleven.

“Oh, you’re there?”

“Yes, Jenny, I have been for a while.”

“Okay, have you done any more on the Hollande case?”

“No, just as you asked, I’ve dropped it.”

“Has Sophie said anything?”

“You shouldn’t ask me that, Jenny, she doesn’t work for you.”

“She is part paid by Heather Young Associates.”

“And hardly ever does work for me, but no, she’s said nothing and I have no idea what enquiries she’s making right now – best ask Emily.”

“What are you working on?”

“Tammy Smart has sent me some paperwork relating to a fashion show in Thurso.”

“Really? You’re not going to claim expenses for buying a frock in Scotland, are you?”

“Tammy’s using some of the financial details as part of her coursework, but wasn’t expecting to find radiation monitors on the paperwork.”

“I see, are the people known?”

“Not on the databases I’ve tried, but it appears there’s a Royal Navy Nuclear Research place near Thurso.”

“Can you put a report together and get it to me today?”

“Sure, I want to check my research first though.”

“Okay, by mid afternoon please, I want this with Royal Navy Intelligence this evening.”

“Understood. Oh, I’m not available on Wednesday.”

“Occupied?”

“I have a GP appointment first thing and then I’m seeing a private client in Truro in the afternoon.”

“Okay, I’ll divert your phone to me that day.”

“Fine.”

Heather now had her shower, made lunch and finally sat down to write the report. There wasn’t a great deal to say; Penny Lavoska was the fashion show organiser but once again she was ‘no trace’ on the police and intelligence databases. Heather wondered if her database searching was comprehensive, was it possible she couldn’t search everywhere?

Her mobile rang but no number was shown.

“Hello?”

“It’s DC Garston, is that Heather Young?”

“It is, how can I help you?”

“I wonder if it’s possible to take a statement from you about an alleged assault last week?”

“I thought I wasn’t needed, and I’m not sure I have the time?”

“My apologies, Miss Young, but the CPS have insisted. We’d like to speak to DS Grieve as well?”

“She’s in London, saving the country, and I have no idea when she’s back. Put your request through the Counter Terrorism Unit at New Scotland Yard.”

“So you can’t help?”

“Give me a reason?”

“The Crown Prosecution Service will only authorise charging for the other alleged assault, he’ll be released from custody within a week. Your statement, together with the Cafe’s video, will ensure CPS see a catalogue of hate crimes. He’ll get six months for that and stands a good chance of being placed on the sex offenders register once we get other offences into court.”

“The fifteen year old victim?”

“I can’t discuss that, but we have a very thin case right now without you.”

“Okay, I’ll be in Truro on Wednesday afternoon, I can see you then?”

“Three, at the police station?”

“That works for me.”

-o-

“Good morning Heather, how are you today?”

The accountant rubbed her arm. “Did your nurse really need all that blood?”

“I just want to make sure you’re fit and healthy. Are you going to the aerobics session?”

“I’m surprised, Rachel, that you don’t already know the answer to that?”

“Well, I didn’t see you at the Tuesday evening session?”

“I was there on Monday, and the week before.”

“Good, and I think you’re looking better for getting away from your desk for a few hours?”

“I’m also off today, and I am not dealing with anything before tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Let’s take your BP, weight and height.”

“I haven’t shrunk or got taller since the last time that was done?”

“In which case we’ll confirm your hypothesis, until then it’s unproven. Doesn’t your work require absolutes, getting the numbers exactly right?”

“Not always.”

A couple of minutes later GP Rachel Wilson was entering the details into her terminal.

“Your weight is up a little, but that’s good, and your blood pressure is very much in the right zone. Have you had any more thoughts about a referral?”

“To a gender clinic? No, and my manager said the same.”

“I’m not qualified to manage you and eventually I may have to suspend your HRT prescription?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Rachel, but I could obtain a supply from elsewhere without any difficulty. I might need to travel to get the prescription but I wouldn’t lose the supply. You would lose a patient and my respect, but I don’t want that to happen.”

“So, no referral?”

“Correct, but let’s not say ‘never’, just ‘not now’.”

“You do realise that if I send the referral it’ll be a year, possibly longer, before you get your first appointment?”

“Yes, but if they sent me a questionnaire asking for background, which I would have trouble answering, then I would have real issues. Add to the mess that there are some holes in my NHS record?”

“Very few adults have a perfect health record, so that’s a non-issue.”

“Even so, it’s too great a risk to my well-being and security. Maybe by this time next year my people will have found a shrink and a surgeon for me, ones that don’t ask the wrong questions.”

“Okay, Heather, but if I’m audited then someone will ask questions, it’ll be out of my hands. See me in two weeks.”

As Heather walked home she felt as if she’d just had a game of chess with her GP, and the result had been stalemate.

She stayed out of the office but stripped the bed and changed the bathroom towels, immediately causing a laundry backlog. Once the machine was on she set about lunch; being a housewife wasn’t the most exciting job on the planet but at least you were your own boss – most of the time.

She put the towels outside to dry in the breeze; for mid February it was mild with a gentle South-Westerly. Next, what to wear?

Heather decided to go down the ūber feminine route, selecting a flora dress and matching cardigan, some low heels and a fuchsia bag. Just after two she drove away from the cottage. By half past she was parked up in Truro, choosing the Edward St carpark.

She waited in the car until quarter to three, checked her lippy, then locked the car for the short walk to the police station.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see DC Garston.”

“He’s not here today.”

Heather sighed. “He phoned me on Monday and booked this, for three o’clock today.”

“Do you have a case reference?”

“No. My name is Heather Young, perhaps that will ring a bell?”

“You’re not expected today Miss Young.”

“Is everyone in Devon and Cornwall Constabulary incompetent? Never mind, goodbye.”

She turned on her heels and walked out of the building.

It was just a five minute walk along Prydar street to the café.

“Oh, hello Heather, what’s up?”

“Can I have a coffee first?”

“Sure, but you might want to to check your face?”

Heather fled to the bathroom and attempted to repair the damage, in her anger a few tears had caused her mascara to streak. It wasn’t too bad, but enough to need a tidy-up.

“Is that better?”

“Yes, Heather, now tell Irene what the problem is?”

She reiterated DC Garston’s call and then her reception at the police station.

Irene stated the obvious.“It sounds like the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing?”

Heather was testing the foam on the top of her latté so just nodded.

“So what will you do now?”

“I’d like to speak to Julie, if I can.”

“As a mutual victim?”

“Something like that.”

“Would you like some cake to go with your coffee?”

“What do you have today?”

“New on this lunchtime is my apple and cinnamon, actually it’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

“Sounds good, my GP told me I needed to put a few pounds on; only a few though pounds though, so please don’t give me too big a slice!”

“Coming right up.”

Heather sipped her cooling latte again before drinking it straight down. Irene has clearly seen this so made a second one straight away. Heather had just picked up the cup when she spotted someone coming in through the door.

“Ah, found you.”

“Sorry, DC Garston, your lot have blown their last balloon as far as I’m concerned.”

“Look, I’m sorry, and I left specific instructions on the front desk. Someone in the back office spotted you on the CCTV and let me know but you’d already left the building.”

“It’s clear someone doesn’t want me to give this bloody statement?”

“I’d agree with you, but that’s for one of the managers to deal with. Can you come back with me?”

“No, I’m staying here, if you want it then it’s here or not at all.”

“There’s no privacy?”

“Did you take Julie’s statement in here?”

“Yes, but …”

“Then get the sheets, DC Garston.”

“Yes, Miss Young.”

He left and Heather assumed he’d be back in ten minutes so she went back to the cake, expressing that she hoped she could convey her thanks to Irene’s grandmother.

“She’s in a home in St Agnes, but I’ll pass that on. If you don’t mind me saying, you were hard on the policeman?”

“I won’t be bullied, especially by provincial officers.”

“So if he wants this paperwork then he has to do the running?”

“Correct.”

Heather returned her interest to the replacement coffee and cake, but was soon interrupted by the DC.

“I’m parked next to you and had the forms in my car. I had also left a note on your windscreen before I came looking for you.”

“No doubt the Inspector gave you a clue?”

“Indeed. Can we get down to it?”

Heather quickly ran through the day for the DC’s benefit, the previous Friday, clocking that it had also been the thirteenth.

“I’m not superstitious but that might explain a few things?”

“I don’t think we’ll put that in the statement. Okay, are you ready to go, you know the format?”

“Too well.”

They were signing the sheets of paper when Heather caught sight of a nervous girl out of the corner of her eye. Heather finished her signatures as Irene intercepted the girl.

“I’d like a copy of that by email or by fax?”

“Do you have a card, I don’t have the details?”

Heather found two in her bag, once she moved her Glock out of the way. The DC spotted it.

“Is that necessary?”

“I told Bob that if I saw that nasty prick on the streets of Truro I would ensure he bothered no-one else.”

“I sincerely hope you’re making a bad joke, Miss Young?”

“Perhaps, Detective Constable. Please get that to the CPS before the day’s over., and don’t forget my copy.”

“What about your partner’s statement?”

“Speak to Bob Willis, he’ll give you her unit contact details, then speak to DI Keane.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She handed over a card, keeping the second one in her hand.

“Right, you can go now!”

The DC spoke briefly to Julie before leaving the café. Irene looked at Heather but said nothing, it was a minute later when Julie walked over to Heather’s table.

“Irene suggested I talked to you, but I’m not sure why?”

“Well, firstly, I was told that the guy who assaulted you would be released within a week or two unless I put my statement in. I suppose Irene told you what happened the previous Friday?”

“She called me, yes.”

“Well it’s done.”

“Is there a second thing?”

“Yes, is your surname Tinker?”

“It is, but?”

“Weeks ago, before any of this happened, I had an email from someone who was concerned about you and your uncle. He gave me your mobile number but it didn’t work.”

“Really, what about?”

“He was concerned about the sale of the fort you looked after.”

“That’s not public knowledge. Why would he contact you?”

“I’m an accountant.”

A penny seemed to drop. “Oh, you were on St Mary’s sorting out the Chandlers last year?”

“Yes, I helped the boat crews get their money.”

“I heard you told the tax people to keep out of the way?”

“I did, they were going down the wrong line of enquiry, everyone there was a victim one way or another.”

“So why are you interested in me?”

“I’m not, not as such, it’s just that Simon suggested you could do with my help. If you don’t want it then it ends here.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“How would we do this, where?”

“I’d need more information, details I could verify, but not here. I’d suggest my cottage in Redruth or do you have somewhere, somewhere more comfortable?”

“How do I trust you?”

“That’s up to you, but I can promise you that I’m no threat.”

Irene had been listening. “Her partner’s a police officer, in London I think.”

“They’ve just put a policeman in prison for fraud!”

Heather sighed. “I know, I effectively put him there.”

“You? I read the report in the paper but the victim was anonymous.”

“I value my privacy and asked the judge to respect that. The solicitors and jury knew who I was.”

“Do you mind if I don’t come back with you, like I really appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do?”

“Fair enough. Here’s my card if you change your mind.”

Heather picked up her bag and walked over to the counter to pay.

“No charge. I didn’t know you knew anything else about Julie’s previous life?”

“I don’t, not really, but I can sense there’s a problem that needs fixing.”

“And you just offer, like that?”

“It’s a fault of mine, yes.”

“Don’t you expect to be paid?”

“Sometimes it’s not appropriate, just like now when I wanted to settle the bill here?”

“Oh, I see, so you wouldn’t make money out of it?”

“No.”

“You don’t sound like any accountant that I know?”

“I’m a forensic accountant, I look for answers in numbers when the numbers don’t make sense.”

“So you don’t do VAT returns? I really don’t get on with the HMRC stuff.”

“Sorry, I only do my own!”

Heather drove home, but she wasn’t certain she’d actually achieved anything other than get away from her desk and computer for a few hours.

 
 

 
New Tammy soon!