The Cyclist Read online

  'The chemist. Patel,’ said Cross.

  'Yep,’ agreed Ottey, and put the car into gear.

  Chapter 7

  Patel was giving an elderly man an injection. The old man was sitting on a chair by the counter.

  'There you go, Charlie.'

  'Thank you, Mr Patel. You're getting much better with practice. I hardly felt a thing,' the old man said.

  'I'll take that as a compliment,' said the chemist.

  'Not a trypanophobic then, Mr Patel?' said Cross, inducing a turn of the head from Ottey, which annoyed her. She had decided to play it much cooler with his absurdly impressive vocabulary and ignore it.

  'It's just a flu jab. I can cope. How can I help you, detective?' Patel knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he said the word "detective" – his customer, Charlie, was now rooted to the spot and wasn't going anywhere.

  'Were you aware that Alex was taking performance-enhancing drugs?' Cross asked.

  'I wasn't. No. Excuse me a second.' He turned back to the old man. 'Was there anything else, Charlie?'

  'No,' said the old man.

  'Good.' Patel then walked to the front door and opened it, inviting Charlie to leave. 'Give my best to Gloria.' The old man took another look at the two detectives. Cross stared right back. Ottey gave him a reassuring smile.

  'He's a good man, Mr Patel,' Charlie said, with a hint of caution.

  'I'm sure he is,' replied Ottey.

  'Does a lot for the community round here. Brings your prescriptions if you're ill and can't make it in. Phones if he hasn't seen you around for a while. An absolute diamond,' he said.

  'Thank you, Charlie. That's very kind,' said Patel.

  The old man gave the police officers another disapproving look, then walked out of the shop. 'Goodbye Ajjay,' he said as he went through the door.

  'Charlie,' said Patel, as he closed the door behind him and walked back to the other side of the counter. Cross noticed this with people in their offices; they often retreated behind their desks, workers behind their stations, when the police presented themselves. He wondered whether this was habit or defensiveness. With Patel, the way he stood up straight and put his hands on the counter, he was sure it was a way of imposing some sort of authority onto the situation.

  'No, I wasn't aware of that,' Patel said in reply to Cross' question.

  'His toxicology report came back positive for a few, including testosterone,' said Ottey. She handed him her phone so he could look at the results. He studied them briefly. His eyebrows arched, as if he was surprised but willing to accept what they were showing him as fact.

  'Okay. Well there's no arguing with that.'

  'You had no idea?' Ottey asked.

  'None at all. But it doesn't surprise me.'

  'And why is that?' she went on.

  'He'd asked me about it in the past,' said Patel.

  'What? To supply?'

  'Yes. Of course I wasn't going to. I advised him not to on both a health and sporting ethics basis. It's cheating and I told him it could have no place in our club.'

  'What was his reaction?' Cross asked.

  'Apologetic, actually.' Patel looked at Ottey's phone again and then handed it back. 'So this is disappointing, if unsurprising. Alex is, was, our best cyclist. Our star, if you like. He had no need to do this. He was so talented. But for some people that's just not enough.'

  'Why unsurprising?' asked Cross.

  'Because he was the kind of guy who always did things his way. He'd pretend to be interested in other people's opinions, but only if they agreed with his. If they didn't he just went his own way anyway. Recently he'd bulked up quite a bit. It didn't look natural. The speed of it certainly wasn't in any way natural. He had to be doing drugs. As for his performance – the spike in it was huge. He left everyone way behind.

  'So you didn't supply Alex Paphides with drugs of any sort?' said Cross.

  'I did not,' he replied.

  'Do you know where he might have got access to them?' Ottey asked.

  'Have you got them with you?’ Patel asked.

  'We haven't actually found them yet.'

  'I see. Well, he'll most likely have got them from the internet. If not, try his gym. I used to be a member there. It's why I left. Drug use, abuse, was prevalent there,' he said. ‘I’m not telling you this but it might help you if you looked for a member called Danny.'

  'Danny,' repeated Cross, making a note of it. 'What does he look like?'

  'Oh, you can't miss him. You'll know him when you see him.'

  Chapter 8

  'Drugs?' asked Kostas in disbelief, as he took them through to the staff room at the back of the restaurant. There was a row of metal lockers on one side, with a bench in the middle. Shelves were stacked neatly with laundry: table cloths, napkins and chefs' whites. Kostas opened one of the lockers. In it there were some clothes hanging, as neatly as they were back in Alex’s flat. There were some shoes, trainers, clogs for the kitchen. Then at the bottom a small backpack. It was stuffed behind a large container of 'athletic supplements'.

  'I knew about those. The supplements. He was always taking those and protein shakes,' said Kostas, almost hoping this was the extent of his late brother's appetite for performance aids. Ottey opened the backpack and started looking through it. Some tape, sun cream, a couple of pairs of Oakley sports sunglasses in their cases. Some protein bars and energy drink sachets – the kind riders opened with their teeth and drank during a race. Then a black, unbranded carrier bag. She opened it to reveal several plastic containers; some were supplements, but three of them were medical. There were also some unidentified capsule strips.

  'We'll need to take these, Kostas,' she said.

  'Of course.'

  'Did you know about this? That your brother was taking drugs?' Cross asked.

  'No. But it makes sense,' he said.

  'In what way?' asked Cross.

  'Like I said, he'd become obsessed with the Étape or whatever it was called. He said it was the only time in cycling where you could compare yourself to the pros – like the Marathon. Which is bullshit of course, but he didn't like hearing that.'

  'Why "bullshit"?' asked Cross.

  'Because the pros have already ridden about eight stages by the time they come to this one. The amateurs are all fresh,' he said.

  'Fair point,' replied Cross.

  'He'd bulked up a bit and he had these veins on his forearms. I mean he'd always had them before, obviously. But now, in the middle of a shift they'd be really bulging you know? Like Bruce Banner when he was changing into the Incredible Hulk,' he explained.

  'And you thought this was as a result of the steroids, or whatever these are?' asked Ottey.

  'No, like I said. I had no idea about the drugs.' Then he thought for a second. 'Do you think they had something to do with his death?' he asked.

  'We don't know, but it's definitely something we will look into,' she said as Cross left the room. 'It looks like we're leaving.' She followed Cross out.

  'You want to share?' she said as they got into the car.

  'Patel, the head of the cycling club...'

  'Is a pharmacist,' she said, and looked up and saw Debbie walking towards them. When Debbie spotted the two police officers she glanced at the restaurant entrance quickly, looked back at Ottey, then turned and walked back where she came from.

  'So why's she running?' asked Ottey.

  'She's not,' he replied. Ottey drove slowly behind Debbie. She went round a corner, out of sight of the restaurant, then stopped and turned to wait for the car. She tried the back door. It was locked. Ottey released the central locking.

  'Hi Debbie. You okay?' she said as the young woman got into the back seat.

  'Yeah. Do you mind if we drive somewhere else?' she said.

  'Sure.'

  Five minutes later they pulled up at the car park, just north of Bristol Zoo. Ottey switched the ignition off and turned towards Debbie.

  'I thought it was just you. I didn't
see him,' Debbie said to Ottey.

  'DS Cross can leave if you'd rather,' Ottey replied, looking at Cross for affirmation.

  'Yes. I can go for a short walk,' said Cross.

  'No. It's fine. I guess,' Debbie said quietly.

  'So how are you doing?' asked Ottey.

  'Okay. I've been at college,' she replied.

  'You go to college?' said Cross.

  'Yes,' she replied.

  Cross said nothing further, so Ottey filled in, 'What are you studying?' she asked.

  'Hospitality.'

  'Oh, interesting. Same field as Alex.'

  'It was his idea. Said the hospitality industry was booming right now. I really enjoy it, actually,' she went on.

  'You're back at college quickly. After all that's happened,' observed Ottey.

  'I had to get away from Alex's mum. All the wailing and crying was driving me mad. She's lost her mind. And now Philippos is just obsessed with catering the funeral. He can’t talk about anything else,' she said.

  'Philippos?' Ottey asked.

  'His dad. He's obsessed with doing his son proud. She's yelling at him for talking about the catering all the time, when their son is dead. They've closed the restaurant for a few days. But you know that. You've just been there.'

  'We have.'

  'Kostas didn't want to close but Helena said they had to do it out of respect. She's all in black now. Looks like one of those women you see on a postcard from Greece,' she said. It was like she needed to talk to someone who'd met them, and so knew who she was talking about, to get it off her chest.

  'I can imagine even college is preferable to that,' said Ottey.

  'Right?' said Debbie. There was a pause. She obviously had something to get talk to them about. But both Cross and Ottey knew instinctively that the best tactic here was to give her time. It was a ploy gleaned from years of experience in such situations. So they said nothing and waited.

  'Did you talk to my parents?' Debbie asked. Cross was about to answer then made the decision, as she'd hoped Ottey would have come alone, to hang back - as if he wasn't really there.

  'We did,' Ottey answered.

  'How were they?' she asked.

  'Fine, I think,' Ottey said. She sensed Debbie needed a little prodding and so went on, ‘Did you want to tell us something, Debbie?’

  'It's just that... I don't want to get anyone into trouble...' she said. Was she, now that they were actually there, changing her mind about whatever it was she wanted to tell them?

  'Of course you don't,' Ottey reassured her.

  'Why were you back at the restaurant?' she asked.

  'We were looking for something,' Ottey answered.

  'Were you aware Alex was taking drugs?' Cross asked straight out, no sugar-coating.

  'Yes. We had an argument about it,' she replied.

  'Why?' he asked. She paused for a moment.

  'Did you not approve?' asked Ottey. Cross sighed audibly. She gave him a sideways daggers look. It really annoyed her that he always thought he knew best and was "leading" these chats, when he was doing no such thing. Again Debbie said nothing, just sniffed the sleeve of her jumper, as if for comfort.

  'Why didn't you approve?' Ottey persisted.

  'It wasn't just me,' she replied.

  'Kostas said he didn't know anything about it,' Ottey said. Cross was thinking, then looked up.

  'How long have you known about the drug-taking?' he asked.

  'Just a couple of months,' she replied.

  'Do you know how long he'd been taking them?' There was another pause and she looked a little upset. Cross immediately came to the conclusion that this had something to do with why she was upset.

  'Just over six months,' she said, quietly, sniffing her sleeve. Ottey offered her a tissue, thinking she might be wiping her nose.

  'And he hadn't told you?' she asked.

  'No.'

  'And that upset you,' Cross said.

  'Yes,' she almost whispered.

  'Because you're pregnant,' he said. Ottey looked at him. Debbie looked up, a little surprised.

  'How do you know?' she said.

  'Good question,' Ottey muttered under her breath.

  'Hyperemesis gravidarum,' he proclaimed to the mystified occupants of the car. 'Morning sickness,' he went on to explain. 'Quite badly, by the look of it. The slightest smell can make you feel nauseous. I noticed you sniffing the sleeve of your sweater to neutralise the smell. In this case it's probably DS Ottey's perfume which, I have to admit, she has been a little heavy-handed with this morning.' Ottey couldn't be bothered to object as she wanted to see Debbie's reaction.

  'No-one knew except me and Alex.'

  'Not even Alex's family?' Ottey asked.

  'No.'

  'How far gone are you?' Ottey asked.

  'Sixteen weeks,' she said.

  'Gosh, you hardly show,' Ottey said smiling.

  'Is that bad?' she said quickly.

  'No, no, not at all,' Ottey reassured her.

  'He didn't know. Then you fell pregnant while he was ingesting a quantity of steroids and other noxious substances for his cycling,' Cross said. Debbie reached into her backpack and took out an asthma inhaler. She shook it and took a couple of puffs.

  'What was his reaction?' Ottey asked.

  'Surprised, then worried he'd hurt it,' she said.

  'I can understand that,' said Ottey.

  'He talked to his mate in the club,' she went on.

  'A doctor?' asked Ottey.

  'No, Ajjay. He's a chemist.'

  Ottey looked at Cross, who pursed his lips. She'd noticed he often did this when told something that surprised him. She thought it was a technique he used to hide his reaction. So the chemist had known about the drugs. Why had he lied to them?

  'And what was his advice?' Ottey asked.

  'He didn't seem to think it would've made as much difference as if I'd been on them. But they had a huge fight,' she said.

  'Really? Why?' Ottey asked.

  'Ajjay said he was a cheat,' she said.

  'Is there anything else you want to tell us?'

  'No,' she said, opening the door and starting to get out.

  'Tell me about London,' said Cross. She closed the door again.

  'What about it?'

  'When I asked you about it in the restaurant you were going to say something. Then you looked at Kostas and changed your mind.

  'Alex hadn't given up on the idea. He was going ahead with it,' she said.

  'Was Kostas aware of this?' Cross asked.

  'I don't know. They were real tight those two. Really close. They'd never tell people what they were talking about in the restaurant. They were like twins. But I don't know.'

  'How far had things progressed?'

  'We'd been up to London to look at a place. He said he'd worked out a way of doing it now so that Kostas wouldn't have to buy him out.'

  'And how was that?' asked Cross.

  'He was going to borrow,' she said.

  'From the bank? Cross asked.

  'No, he had another investor. He was dead serious. He'd hired a designer. He had a mood board and everything. Look.' She opened her photos on her phone and showed them pictures. It was very high-end, very unlike the Adelphi. It was everything the Adelphi was not. Very sleek with lots of steel and a giant charcoal pit in the middle of the room. 'He had a date and everything. I couldn't wait. The further I got away from my mum the better. He was going to train me up as a manager as well. That'll never happen now,' she said quietly.

  'Do you know who the investor was?'

  'No. It was someone abroad, Alex said. Another Greek bloke.'

  'Are you sure Kostas knew nothing about this?' Cross asked.

  'It was before... Look I don't want to get anyone into trouble but I think Kostas might have known. They had a huge row a few days before Alex died. They always argued, but there was something different about this one. Alex was off-his-head angry about something Kostas had done,
it sounded like. I only heard bits, but I think it was about London,' she said.

  'I'm sorry about all this, Debbie,' said Ottey.

  'Yeah, it's a right fucking mess. You have no idea.' This time she opened the door and went. They watched her walk away, then Ottey looked at Cross. 'Poor thing, she's pregnant, which you kind of imagine may have been a bit of a surprise, and now the father of the baby is dead. But there's something else she's not telling us,' she said.

  'There is,' he agreed. 'We need to get Alice to look through his laptop for a business trail. She's been concentrating on all the personal stuff. It's endless, apparently. I don't know how people find the time, and why on earth do they think their lives are of such interest to other people?'

  Chapter 9

  They went back to the chemist at the end of the day. By doing this he couldn't use his work as an excuse not to talk to them. They also knew he had a training ride with the club shortly after work, which they wanted to follow him to.

  'Recognise these?' said Ottey, holding part of Alex's drug supply up in front of a slightly startled Patel. He was wearing full lycra cycling gear. Cross noticed an expensive-looking racing bike propped up next to a door, which presumably led to a storeroom in the basement. The door had a coded lock.

  'Should I?' Patel asked. She handed them to him. Patel put on a pair of glasses and examined the label.

  'Human Chorionic Gonadotropin. HCG.'

  'And what is that used for?’ Cross asked. Patel sighed; he knew there was no way out of this.

  'Mainly weight loss and the treatment of undescended testicles,' he replied.

  'Now that I did not know,' said Ottey, slightly bemused.

  'And...?' Cross pushed, well aware of the answer.

  'And it's used by doping athletes to avoid the body crashing after steroid use,' said Patel reluctantly.

  'Such as these?' said Ottey, holding up another box of pills. He took a look at them.

  'Where did you get these?'

  'We found them and a whole lot more at Alex's restaurant.' There was a pause. Patel looked grimly disappointed.

  'I didn't know till just before Tenerife,' he said.

  'You're a chemist and one of your team has a locker-full of performance-enhancing drugs. Objectively speaking, that seems quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?' asked Cross.