Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,69
He clicked his fingers to show how quickly it can happen. ‘We expect MPs to behave impeccably, even though we know they bloody don’t.’
‘Are you saying Jarvis had something to hide,’ she prompted him, ‘and that’s why he couldn’t become an MP?’
‘Partly, but it was more complicated than that. Let’s just say he was trying to repair something that couldn’t be fixed by swanning off to London.’
Helen instantly knew what he meant. ‘His marriage.’
Hilton smiled. ‘Go to the top of the class, pet.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tom had almost finished reading the case files when he noticed something was absent from them. The last sighting of Sandra Jarvis in the north-east had been at Newcastle Central railway station, one of the first places to invest in the relatively new, not inexpensive technology of CCTV, because large railway stations had more than their fair share of trouble from drunks and fights between rival football fans. The still from one of the cameras that showed Sandra Jarvis buying a rail ticket was missing from the file, which was odd since it was a crucial piece of evidence.
Tom was then told he had a phone call, which was a surprise, since hardly anybody knew he was at the police HQ.
‘It’s me,’ Helen said, ‘thought you’d still be there.’
‘I’m nearly done,’ he told her.
‘Can you pick me up at the Quayside?’ she asked him. ‘I got that dirt you wanted.’
‘Blimey, that was quick.’
Helen was standing directly under the Tyne Bridge, sheltering from the rain but putting herself in even greater jeopardy from falling bird shit, which was a hazard for anyone walking beneath its girders. He flashed his lights and she quickly jumped in next to him.
‘You’ve gone up in the world,’ she said.
‘Eh?’
‘Your car,’ she remarked on the two-year-old black Renault he’d finally upgraded to.
‘It’s not that flash,’ he said shortly, and drove away.
Helen had grown used to the need to play everything down round here. It seemed the biggest sin in the north-east was to become too big for your boots.
‘I would never accuse you of being flash,’ she said, ‘just, you know, it’s good to seeing you doing well. You deserve it.’
‘What makes you think I’m doing well?’
‘Oh I don’t know,’ she said brightly, ‘perhaps it was the several front page leads in national newspapers a while back, followed by the critically acclaimed non-fiction book of the year.’
‘I don’t remember picking up that award.’
‘You know what I mean!’ She mock-punched him on the shoulder.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘I have been working,’ she announced grandly and she told him about her drinks with Hilton and everything she had learned about Frank Jarvis..
‘It seems Mrs Jarvis had a major wobble when Frank was about to be selected as a Newcastle MP and he turned down the nomination at the last minute.’
‘He rejected the chance to become an MP?’
‘To save his marriage,’ said Helen. ‘Alan heard rumours of an affair, which he said was highly likely. A lot of young women used to volunteer to help the Labour Party campaign back then. He told me it was because of “women’s lib”. He reckons Jarvis probably had a fling with one of the party’s “dolly birds”.’
‘How refreshingly old school,’ deadpanned Tom.
‘Mrs Jarvis must have found out about it because Frank disappeared for a few days at a critical point then he turned down the nomination.’
‘Wanted to spend more time with his family, eh?’
‘He may have been forced to do that, otherwise someone would have leaked it. This was nearly twenty years ago, when people were a lot less tolerant of that sort of behaviour.’
‘Any idea which “dolly bird” he had an affair with?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said, ‘but there was one other thing that will interest you.’
‘Go on.’
‘It seems Mrs Jarvis has always had a bit of a drink problem,’ Helen explained. ‘She has it under control most of the time but during that period she was drinking more heavily than normal and she crashed her car.’
‘Blimey,’ he said, ‘was she done for that?’
‘No charges,’ said Helen.
‘What did she do? Abandon the car and stagger off?’
‘Not exactly. The story goes that she spun off the road and skidded into a wall somewhere out in the sticks. She wasn’t badly hurt and she just stayed there and waited for someone to come along. A police officer attended the scene but when the report was filed it stated the driver was sober and must have skidded on a wet patch in the road.’