The Wood Beyond

Kirkton, an industrial suburb of Leeds, was ALBA’s home base. Here the company had begun and grown, developing into a large rambling complex which Batty (once the truce had been struck the previous night) had described as a security nightmare. ‘As I explained to your chap who came out when we had that first lot of bother in the summer, Pascoe his name was I think, seemed a very decent kind of fellow’ – his faintly surprised tone had not passed unremarked – ‘the reason we decided to move our research labs was because they were far too vulnerable at HQ. Chap from some animal mag just strolled right in and started taking pictures. Bloody cheek! So we decided to move out here, lock, stock, and barrel. It had been used as a hospital or clinic or something for years, so that was a step in the right direction and it meant we could give the impression that all the refurbishment and extension work had something to do with resuming its old function.’

‘Oh aye,’ Dalziel had interrupted. ‘With no one knowing what was going off but a few lawyers, and all the contractors, and your own staff members and every bugger living in a radius of ten miles, I can see how you might’ve hoped to keep it quiet.’

‘Put like that it does sound a touch optimistic,’ laughed Batty. ‘But we left a token presence in the Kirkton labs to fool the activists’ spies, and for nearly four years it seemed to work. Must have lulled us, I suppose. Then bang! Suddenly last summer the loonies got in and really made a mess of things. That’s when I realized that being remote and isolated was an advantage only till they winkled you out. Moving again clearly wasn’t a solution. So we got a new security company in and gave them the brief to make us secure. The results you have seen.’

He had spoken complacently. Dalziel had kept his own thoughts about those results to himself. No point in rowing with a fellow who had a half-full bottle of Glenmorangie at his elbow.

It had been empty by the time he left, but he’d noticed an unopened one in the cabinet Batty had taken his glass from. The memory rose before him now like a vision of the Holy Grail. He coughed he hoped thirstily and said, ‘Now you’ve had a chance to clear up, did that lot last night do much damage when they ran loose inside?’

‘Not a lot and mainly superficial,’ said Batty. ‘But it’s good of you to be concerned.’

All this gratitude undiluted by a dram was beginning to grate a bit. Wield had entered the lab. He caught Dalziel’s eye and gave a minute shake of his head to indicate he wanted a word but it wasn’t desperate.

Dalziel said, ‘What I’m really concerned about is making sure these aren’t the same lot who were running riot in the summer.’

‘Oh that’s all behind us now,’ said Batty dismissively. ‘We learnt our lesson. Let’s stick with the present, shall we?’

‘Might be behind you,’ said Dalziel magisterially. ‘Not behind the family of that poor sod who got himself killed up at Redcar. Fraser Greenleaf. Same line of business as you only a lot bigger. I’d have thought you’d have heard of them.’

For a second Batty allowed himself to look irritated, then his face assumed a solemn air and he said, ‘Of course. I wasn’t thinking. But do you really believe there might be a connection with these people?’

‘Can’t ignore the possibility, sir.’

‘Of course not. Good lord. Women. What’s the world coming to?’

‘We’re a long way from proving a connection,’ said Dalziel. ‘What about you? Made up your mind about prosecuting yet?’

Batty smiled and shrugged.

‘Like I said, not up to me. Head office decision. I know what I’d do, but I’m just a poor scientist.’

Who also, if Wield was right, happened to be a member of ALBA’s ruling family. Which probably meant they weren’t going to prosecute, but Batty wanted to distance himself from a decision he’d opposed.

Sharp bugger this, thought Dalziel. But not sharp enough to see there was a man dying of thirst in front of him!

Wield meanwhile was taking a tour round the lab, looking at the caged animals with a distaste not even his rugose features could disguise.

He watched as a radiantly beautiful young woman in a radiantly white lab coat picked up a tiny monkey which threw its arms round her neck in a baby-like need for reassurance. Expertly she disengaged it, turned it over and plunged a hypodermic into the base of its spine.

‘Ouch,’ said Wield. ‘Doesn’t that hurt?’

‘Done properly, the animal hardly feels it,’ she reassured him.

He glanced at her security badge which told him he was speaking to Jane Ambler. Research Assistant.

‘No, Jane,’ he said amiably. ‘It was you I meant.’

She regarded him dispassionately and said, ‘Oh dear. Perhaps before you come on so judgmental, you should talk to someone with rheumatoid arthritis.’

‘OK,’ said Wield.

He stooped to the cage, pushed his finger through the mesh and made soothing guttural noises to the tiny beast. Then he straightened up.

‘He’s against it,’ he said.

He found he was talking to Dalziel.

‘When you’re done feeding the animals, sergeant, mebbe we can have a word.’

The Fat Man led the way through the reception area where the receptionist was still sulking. He gave her a big smile and nodded at Howard who’d snapped to attention.

Outside Wield said, ‘That TecSec man, don’t I know him?’

Dalziel, used to being upstaged by his sergeant’s encyclopaedic knowledge of the dustiest corners of Mid-Yorkshire, was not displeased to be able to reply negligently, ‘Oh aye. But not the way you’re thinking. He were one of ours, uniformed out at Dartleby till he took early retirement and got himself privatized. Thinking of following suit, lad?’

‘Not more than once a day, sir. Howard. Oh yes. Jimmy Howard. Didn’t so much take retirement as had it force-fed, if I remember right.’

Dalziel, who took too much pride in Wield’s internet mind to be a bad loser, said, ‘You usually do. So fill me in.’

‘There was talk he was on the take, but before it got anywhere, he were picked up driving over the limit. Got himself a soft quack who gave him a note saying job stress, and no one stood in his way when he went for medical retirement with pension afore the case came up and he got kicked out without.’

‘And the other? Being on the take?’

‘Well, nowt was proved. But he’s a hard-betting man and those who saw him at the races reckoned he couldn’t be losing that much on a constable’s take-home. Makes you wonder, don’t it?’

‘Wonder what, Wieldy?’

‘Did TecSec not know about him? Or did they know and take him on despite? Or did they know and take him on because?’

Dalziel shook his head admiringly.

‘That’s a really nasty mind you’ve got there, Wieldy. Any reason other than natural prejudice?’

‘It was you who said private security companies are guilty till proven innocent, sir,’ said Wield reproachfully. ‘I’ve not seen much of this lot, but there’s something about them doesn’t sit right.’

Dalziel regarded him thoughtfully. A Wield uneasiness was not something to be dismissed lightly.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Take a closer look. Let on it’s these animal libbers we’re interested in, how they acted when they got into the building last night. Which we are.’

‘Right, sir. But it doesn’t sound to me like ALBA will be prosecuting.’

‘Big ears you’ve got. Listen, lad. No one tells me when to stop looking. And I’ll keep this ANIMA bunch in view till I’m completely satisfied there’s no link with Redcar.’

‘You don’t really think there could be a connection, sir?’ said Wield dubiously. ‘I mean from what’s known about this lot, they’re at the soft end of the movement.’

‘First rule of this job is, take nowt on trust,’ said the Fat Man sternly. ‘Keep your eye on the ball and you’ll not buy any dummies.’

This struck Wield as a bit rich when he recalled from Dalziel’s complaint last night at not having been warned of the gender of the protesters that the main thing he seemed to have kept his eye on, and which he mentioned at least three times in the sergeant’s mitigation, was Amanda Marvell’s knockers.