The Fourth Cart Page 17
Chapter Seventeen
As Magee left Sussex Gardens, he gave a friendly wave back towards the woman standing in the bay window of the ground floor flat.
‘You look smug, sir,’ Melissa commented.
‘Hmm!’ Magee replied beaming like the proverbial Cheshire cat. ‘A couple of bacon sandwiches and a cup of coffee, just what was needed.’
‘Plus the company of a beautiful woman?’
Magee allowed an even broader smile. ‘Well, that helped, I must say. She’s a very intelligent woman actually, that Angela.’
Melissa’s eyebrows raised a fraction. ‘Angela is it? Well, well, you are a dark horse, sir.’
‘She’s a clever girl, Melissa, despite her choice of career. Anyway, she helped me track down the tenant via the landlord’s office. I just hope it doesn’t end badly for her.’
‘How could it?’
‘Well, with the press, I suppose. I can just picture the headlines tomorrow, The Duke, The Bimbo and The Ripper.’
Melissa looked confused. ‘The Duke? What Duke? You’ve lost me, sir.’
‘The landlord, Melissa.’
‘Oh, right. Well, where do we go from here?’
‘To arrest the tenant, of course. Mr Somchai Polgeowit; he’s an importer of Thai products, based up near Gatwick.’
‘Have you checked he’s there?’
‘I spoke to his secretary from Angela’s flat. She says he should be back by four this afternoon. He’ll be expecting us.’
Melissa looked even more perplexed. ‘Hang on, sir. This doesn’t sound right. We nearly got him last night. He must have known we were close enough to read his number plate. Yet, today, he just strolls into work as though nothing has happened?’
‘Apparently so.’
Melissa scratched the back of her head. ‘Odd behaviour, don’t you think?’
‘Maybe he’s got nowhere to run. Maybe he's just waiting for us to go and get him. Who knows?’
‘It doesn’t sound right to me.’
‘Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Melissa. Be positive. This is it, we’ve got our man. We just need to bring him in.’
‘If you’re sure . . .’
‘I am. Come on, we’ll get there early, just in case he changes his mind.’
Within the hour, Magee had located the importer, Mekong Enterprises Limited, on an industrial estate on the edge of Crawley, and settled himself in a comfortable chair in the office’s reception area. He waited patiently for another half hour before sighting a Thai man coming through the front door.
Magee nudged Melissa. ‘This must be him now.’
The Thai man approached Magee and said, ‘Good afternoon. I understand that you are police officers. How may I help?’
Magee stood up and eyed the man up and down. He was slim, around thirty years old and certainly looked capable of the physical exertion necessary to have committed the recent murders. He imagined the man with a gas mask covering his face and concluded that the hotel’s security guard had been right to conclude there was nothing distinguishable about the man.
‘Are you Mr Somchai Polgeowit?’
‘That is quite correct.’
‘I am Detective Chief Inspector Magee and this is Detective Sergeant Kelly. I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Mr Todd Conners, Mr Michael Harwood and Mr Robert Harrison. Read him his rights, Melissa.’
As Melissa talked, Magee watched Polgeowit’s face, hoping to see a reaction. None came; the man remained expressionless, even as Melissa handcuffed his wrists.
‘You are making a mistake, Chief Inspector. I hope you realize that you, how do you say, have the wrong man.’
‘Yes, sir, if you say so. In the meantime perhaps you would come with us and not cause any trouble.’
‘Certainly. It seems as though I have little choice in the matter. May I ask where you are taking me, though? My wife and children will be worried.’
‘I’m taking you to the Sussex Police Headquarters in Lewes for questioning. You may, of course, have a lawyer present with you if you wish.’
‘Thank you, Chief Inspector.’ Mr. Polgeowit gave a few firm instructions to his secretary before Melissa led him away.
Magee maneuvered Polgeowit into the car, then climbed in and sat alongside him. He gave a self-indulgent smirk. He’d got his man. The Home Secretary would be happy, his Superintendent would be happy, even the press would be happy. A few hours from now, he reckoned, and he’d have his man talking. With any luck, he may even extract sufficient dirt on Nick Price to nail him as well. Life was looking up, he thought, as he lent back and relaxed the rest of the journey.
Forty minutes later, as they neared the Headquarters in Malling, Lewes, Magee’s heart sunk. ‘Oh, good grief,’ he muttered on seeing a crowd of journalists. ‘Where did they all come from?’
‘Methinks someone let the cat out the bag,’ Melissa mumbled.
‘Probably your uncle,’ Magee muttered.
‘Thanks, sir. I get the blame for that I suppose?’
To Magee’s surprise, Polgeowit sat calmly in the back of the car, stony faced, as the car drove through the blockade of photographers. Magee winced at the blinding flashes, yet Polgeowit made no move to avert his face. It unnerved Magee, he’d expected Polgeowit to be hiding in shame.
Magee got out the car and said, ‘Process him, Melissa. I’d better go back and give that lot a statement.’
Despite his dislike for the press, Magee couldn’t help feeling triumphant as he approached the reporters.
‘Chief Inspector Magee,’ one reporter shouted out. ‘We’ve been told you’ve arrested the man that murdered the Brighton councillor, Todd Conners. Was that him in your car?’
Many other reporters shouted questions. Magee held his hands up in a request for silence. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. I can confirm that an arrest has been made today in connection with those murders. I really can't say much more than that.’
‘Is he the Ripper you’re after?’
Magee’s puffed out his chest. ‘You know I can’t possibly answer that.’ The unsubtle gesture left the journalists in no doubt that Magee had his man, but couldn't say so publicly. Vanity got to him; he posed for the cameras and imagined the headlines running boldly alongside his photo. He smiled for the cameras, blissfully thinking that the Home Secretary would be impressed. Promotion may come his way after all.