Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Forty-Four

The road between the station and John's address was a distance of about five miles. Unfortunately, the traffic congestion in the town has increased over the years whether the council decided to build a bypass or not. Frustrated by the length of time for the journey, he stopped outside John Daniel's address twenty minutes later. He noted the almost new Honda Accord V6 on the driveway.

Walker recognised Angela when she opened the door.

She stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at Angela, a woman he knew was strong enough to bear what life threw at her. "Is John at home? Mrs Daniels."

Are you mental or something? He died last week. It was in the local paper. His funeral is tomorrow."

Walker noted her voice was faltering. "Can I come in? I need a question answered, and you might be the only person to give me a satisfactory answer."

"Yes, sorry, come in. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?" She directed him into the lounge.

"Nothing, thanks. A lovely home you have here. All mod cons and rather large colour television. They don't come cheap."

"What are you now? Assistant commissioner?"

He shrugged. "They passed me over, but that's not why I'm here. I had a visitor this afternoon. Your husband."

Angela narrowed her eyes. "I believe you, but it was something unexplainable. My John is dead, and tomorrow we will bury him."

"He was as large as life, older, yes, but still the John Daniels everyone remembers. We discussed the Little brothers and how they died in a storm drain."

Angela nodded. "Nevertheless, my husband is at present lying in his coffin at the undertakers. I assure you I was with him in his bed the night before those bodies were discovered in the harbour. I remember the little brothers. He hated them for what they did to his sister, but he never killed them."

Walker gave her a hard stare. "Did you know John and two of his buddies acted as vigilantes?"

"Oh yes. I gave John the names and information. John and his friends did what was necessary.

Walker thought about what she had said for a moment. "Why did he do it? If we had caught him in the act, he would have ended his life in prison."

"Is there anything else you want to know, Chief Superintendent?" A grin formed on her lips. "I was supposed to give you a file after John was buried, but as you're here, a day won't make any difference."

Walker's gaze shifted to a photo of John and Angela on their wedding day. "This is a lovely house. It must have been expensive. As an aside, if you have any problems, the Police Benevolent Fund might be able to help."

Angela laughed.

"I'm trying to help," said Walker.

"I know you are, but neither of us ever touched our pensions. What we never made public was how we invested our money. John's hobby was rather lucrative because he was good at it. Look out the window and tell me what you see."

"I'll see a street filled with houses. What's your point?"

"John and I own every house in this street. The tenants pay a fair rent and love living here. It perfect. When John and I got it together, he told me money always makes money. After we were married, he gave me the deeds to five houses as a wedding present. However, there was a catch. When I die, the contracts of each house revert to the sitting tenant.

Walker gave her one of his smiles. "That's a bit harsh."

Angela laughed out loud. "I don't see why. We have no children or long-lost relatives who could inherit. The tenants are good people. We are simply paying them back. Far better that way than letting the government take them. Are you familiar with the G J Cleaning company?"

"Oh yes. They have the contract for the station. Do a good job, or so I'm told."

John owns half of the business. Years ago, Gillian wanted a loan to grow the company, and every bank in town turned her down. They said she was a bad risk. When she told him, he asked how much half the company was worth, and he transferred the money into her account the next day. It was just after John and I were married. I'm sure you know she owns three Costa Brava hotels. Bankers are wankers. Couldn't recognise a dead cert when it was standing in front of them. Anyway, John's funeral is at ten tomorrow morning. I know you and John didn't get on, but you can come if you want."

Walker checked his watch. "I must go. If I can fit it in, I'll be there."

"Suit yourself."

Walker felt a sense of relief as he drove back to the station. The grey sky appeared to match his mood.

On his return to the station, he stopped at the paper shredding machine and, page by page, destroyed every page in the file Angela had given him.

As he relaxed in his office and lit his second cigarette of the day, he said out loud. "You were right, John. No one would ever believe your story in a million years."