Dying Fall

Pendragon, he was involved in the group?’
    ‘Cathbad thinks so. He says that Pendragon seems terrifiedthat these White Hand people are going to have some sort of revenge on him for leaving.’
    ‘Any idea what Pendragon’s real name is?’
    Nelson gets out a piece of paper. ‘Norman Smith,’ he says, with a straight face.
    Sandy roars with laughter. He seems in a particularly jolly mood today. Tim, though, nods solemnly. He’s probably been on all those PC courses that teach you not to laugh at people’s names.
    ‘Do a search on him, Tim, will you? And what about Cathcart, whatever he calls himself. What’s his real name?’
    ‘Michael Malone,’ says Nelson, wondering why saying this name aloud gives him a slight twinge of unease. ‘He’s known to the police but no convictions.’
    ‘Known to the police,’ says Sandy. ‘Is he an informer then?’
    Not unless you count information on auras, zodiac signs and lunatic Pagan rituals, thinks Nelson. Aloud he says, ‘No, but he has been helpful on a couple of cases.’ By his count he has saved Cathbad’s life once and Cathbad claims to have saved his in return – though, as Nelson was unconscious at the time, he can’t exactly vouch for this. Still, there’s no doubt that Cathbad has helped the police. Once he led Nelson across treacherous marshland in the dark, another time he accompanied him on a nightmare river journey in the wake of a madman with a gun. Cathbad, despite appearances, is good in a crisis. Nelson doesn’t feel able to explain all this to Sandy, though.
    Thankfully Sandy seems to accept his answer. ‘Well,’ he says, folding his hands over his paunch, ‘I suppose I’d better go and see Norman Smith, alias Pendragon.’
    Nelson shifts uncomfortably. He knows he has to be tactful and the concept always feels somewhat alien to him. ‘I wondered if it might be better if Cathbad and I went on our own,’ he says. ‘We might get more out of him.’
    Sandy looks at him sharply and Nelson gets a glimpse of the tough copper underneath the matey bonhomie. Then he says, ‘OK, but you’re not officially on the case, mind. You go and see him, prepare the way, then Tim and I can go afterwards.’
    ‘Good idea,’ says Nelson.
    ‘OK.’ Sandy seems to relax again. ‘Tim, have you got that list of names? Tim’s been doing some research into Neo-Nazi activity at the university,’ he explains. ‘He’s done a good job considering he can hardly go undercover.’ He laughs uproariously. Tim, who is black, smiles politely. Does he really not mind the joke, wonders Nelson, or has he just learnt that you need a thick skin to get on in this business? Tim’s also a graduate, something else that may prejudice Sandy against him, though, as far as Nelson can see, they seem to have a good working relationship.
    Now Tim gets out a typed list and puts it on the table. ‘Here are the names of anyone linked to the university who has ever been involved with any far-right group.’
    ‘Including the Masons?’ asks Nelson. Tim doesn’t smile.Maybe he’s a member, like Nelson’s own sergeant, Dave Clough.
    ‘This includes people who’ve stood for the National Front,’ says Tim, ‘been cautioned at demonstrations, sent letters to us or to the press, or who’ve been convicted of any crimes of a racist nature.’
    Nelson looks at the list. ‘This bloke’s got a foreign name,’ he says. ‘What’s he doing in the National Front?’
    ‘Like I say,’ says Tim, ‘they’re not very bright.’
    ‘Doesn’t stop ’em being dangerous, though,’ says Sandy. ‘Anybody here linked to Dan Golding?’
    ‘There’s one person who studied in the history department,’ says Tim, pointing. ‘She graduated seven years ago.’
    ‘She? Are there woman fascists too?’ asks Sandy.
    ‘It would appear so,’ says Tim. ‘This woman’s called Philippa Moore.’
    ‘What did she do?’ asks Nelson.
    ‘She was arrested at a gay rights march. Cautioned for using offensive language.’
    ‘So she doesn’t like gays. Think Golding could have been gay?’ Sandy turns to Nelson again.
    ‘Henry didn’t think so and Ruth … my friend … she certainly didn’t think so.’
    ‘Another of Harry’s mysterious friends,’ says Sandy. ‘She’s the girl who’s been getting the threatening texts, right?’
    Sandy has put a trace on the number given to him by Nelson. The calls have been made locally but they are nocloser to finding the phone’s owner. One