Rubric's Cube

Chapter 10 Nothing is what it seemed

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what was happening. But nothing came. No sudden clarity of thinking.

"Inspector Thomas I need some help here. I don't know what to do."

"I think you should have a break while we decide how to handle this Mr Blackwood. Could I ask you to wait and perhaps calm your mind, Colin show him where please."

Colin led me to a small grey fluorescent lit room, windowless except for a narrow frosted and sunlit panel just under the ceiling, and a wire meshed pane in the door opposite.

The only furniture was a small table and four black plastic stacking chairs.

"Can I get you a drink, Mr Blackwood?"

"That would be good, coffee, white and no sugar for preference."

"Sure thing."

The door shut behind him propelled by a squeaking door closer. I suspected this was a dual purpose room - waiting and interviewing. A glance at the door lock showed that there was more security built in than necessary for a mere office.

I sat on a plastic chair and thought.

First of all Ellie could be alive, but where was she and how was she? Had she run away from me and our life together. No, because Madge had received a conciliatory perhaps loving, message from her. I had told Hansen about it. But Hansen wasn't the police, at any rate not this force.

I then realised that although I had told CI Thomas what happened with Hansen and Winford last Thursday morning, I hadn't continued the story beyond that point. So Thomas could be ignorant of Ellie's message and the sabotage of the Escort, and the fact that Hansen had the telephone numbers for the garages involved in the maintenance of both my Escort and Ellie's Porsche, and the later repair of the Escort in Somerset. Further he was yet to be told of this Sunday's findings by me, at home, concerning Ellie's PC and her filing cabinet, and even Hansen wasn't party to those.

Colin returned with a polystyrene cup.

"Thank you. Colin, can you tell me how long I am to wait here?"

"Can't say, Mr Blackwood. We have a lot to organise before we're ready for you again."

"Surely I should be party to any planning discussion."

"No we don't involve the public in that sort of police business."

I started to speak, but my contract negotiation instinct kicked in with an internal voice that muttered 'you don't really know who and what you're dealing with, and who is really on your side. Shut! Up!'.

"Yes, Mr Blackwood?"

"N-nothing. It'll wait. I've a lot to think about."

"Oh, OK, hope the coffee's not too unbearable."

He exited. After a minute my aroused paranoia drove me to check the door was not locked. It wasn't.

I drank some coffee. As with most multi-dispensed drinks the coffee was tainted with tea and cocoa but it wasn't 'too unbearable'.

Ok. I resumed my internal dialogue. If Thomas and his cohorts thought Hansen knew no more than Thursday morning's events with me and - hang on .....

It dawned on me that if Hansen and Winford hadn't told me Ellie had been immolated in the motorway pile up I would have started the search for her far earlier. I would have phoned her at the latest Thursday evening and found - well - something.

As it was, I had fled to take refuge from the awful truth, in Cornwall, and even that journey had been interrupted by sabotage to the Escort. The start for a search for Ellie had been delayed from Thursday until Monday - today, and wasn't yet being pursued. So Hansen had created a time delay before Ellie was even known to be missing. But why?