Dead Tomorrow

Superintendent Grace eye test.’
    Grace smiled.
    ‘Perhaps we should put in for a phone tap, Roy?’ David Browne said.
    ‘I don’t think we have enough to get one at this stage, but I think we’ve enough to warrant a monitoring of calls to that number.’
    ‘Presumably this Lynn Beckett has a mobile too,’ Guy Batchelor said.
    ‘Yes, someone needsto get on to the mobile phone companies, see what they’ve got registered to that name and address.’ He looked at his notes again. ‘Tomorrow, I’m flying to Munich and back in the evening, so DI Mantle will be taking over command until I return. Any questions?’
    There were none until after the briefing had ended, when Glenn Branson caught up with Roy Grace as he headed along the network of corridors back towards his office. They stopped in front of a diagram that looked like a spider’s web, pinned to a red felt notice-board which was headed COMMON POSSIBLE MOTIVES .
    ‘Yo, old-timer,’ he said. ‘This trip to Munich–it wouldn’t be anything connected with Sandy, would it?’
    Grace shook his head. ‘God, no. I have an appointment with the organ broker woman–I’m posing as a customer. And while I’m over there my LKA friend is going to slip me some files–on the QT.’
    On the diagram behind Glenn’s head Grace read the words, DESIRE, POWER, CONTROL, HATE, REVENGE.
    Glenn stared hard at him. ‘Are you sure that’s the only reason for your visit? It’s just–you know–you and I haven’t talked about Sandy in a while, and now you’re going to the place were there was a reported sighting of her.’
    ‘That sighting was a red herring, Glenn. You know what I really think?’
    ‘No, you’ve never told me what you really think. Got time for a drink?’
    Grace looked at his watch. ‘Actually I’ve got to swing by the house to pick up some clothes, but I’ve got half an hour’s stuff to do in my office first. Where do you fancy?’
    ‘The usual?’
    Grace shrugged. The Black Lion was not his favourite pub, in a city that was filled with great watering holes, but it was convenient and had its own car park. He looked at his watch again.
    ‘Meet you there at a quarterto eight. But one drink only.’
    When Grace arrived, ten minutes later than he had said, Glenn was already seated at a quiet corner table, with a pint in front of him, and a tumbler of whisky on the rocks, with a jug of water on the side, for Grace.
    ‘Glenfiddich?’ Branson said.
    ‘Good man.’
    ‘I don’t know why you like that stuff.’
    ‘Yeah, well, I don’t know why you like Guinness.’
    ‘No, what I mean is that Glenfiddich isn’t the purist single malt, right?’
    ‘Yep, but I like it best of any I’ve ever drunk. You have a problem with that?’
    ‘You ever see that film Whisky Galore ?’
    ‘About the shipwreck off the Scottish coast–with a cargo of whisky?’
    ‘I’m impressed. You do actually impress me sometimes. You aren’t a complete cultural ignoramus. Even though you have rubbish taste in clothes and music.’
    ‘Yep, well, I wouldn’t want to be too perfect.’ Grace grinned. ‘Anyway, how are you? What’s happening with Mrs Branson?’
    ‘Let’s not even go there.’ Glenn shook his head. ‘It’s a fucking train crash, OK?’ He raised his glass and drank. Then, wiping the froth from his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, ‘I want to hear about you and Munich–and Sandy?’
    Grace picked up the tumblerand swirled the ice cubes around. Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ was twanging out of the pub’s speakers.
    ‘Now, that’s real music.’
    Branson rolled his eyes.
    Grace took a sip, then put the glass down.
    ‘I think Sandy’s dead–and that she’s been dead for a long time. I’ve been a fool for holding out hope. All it’s done is to lose me years of my life.’ He shrugged. ‘All those mediums.’ He sipped some more whisky. ‘You know, a lot of them said the same thing, that they could not get through to her–meaning that she was not in spirit–like, the spirit world.’
    ‘What does that signify?’
    ‘If she’s not in the spirit world–i.e. dead–then she must be alive–in their rationale.’ He drank some more, and saw to his surprise that he had drained the glass. Lifting it up, he said, ‘That was a double?’
    Glenn nodded.
    ‘I’ll get one more–just a single–keep me legal. Another half for you?’
    ‘A pint. I’m a big guy–I can take more than you!’
    Grace returned with their