Dirty Old Town

by L M Krier

  ‘It’s a surprise. I thought we could go away for a day or two. Just the two of us. Look, I’ve brought some of our things.’

  He noticed then that she was carrying a holdall. It looked new. And heavy. He hadn’t seen it before.

  ‘What about school?’ he asked her.

  She smiled fondly at him. He was such a good boy. Always studying hard, without needing to be chased after. He was determined to make something of himself. And he had the brains to do it.

  ‘It’s only for a day or two. And I’ll send a message to your teacher to explain. You won’t miss anything and you’ll soon catch up anyway. You’re so clever. My brainy boy.’

  Her heart filled with pride as she looked at him. She couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to him but he side-stepped deftly and hissed at her, ‘Mum, don’t.’

  There were too many other pupils about. She knew she would embarrass him with any such public gesture of affection.

  They turned a corner, going the opposite way to the one they would have taken to go straight home. It was only then that she became aware of a car purring along behind them. Slowly, shadowing them as they walked.

  She stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth suddenly dry, her heart pounding strongly. The car stopped too, mirroring her movements. Then the passenger side window slid down.

  ‘You’re going the wrong way.’

  His voice was pleasant, almost jovial. He even laughed as he went on, ‘What’s your mum like, eh, lad? She can’t even remember her own way home. It’s a good job I was just passing by when I did. Hop in the back seat, there’s a good boy. Don’t worry, I’ll help mum with her bag. It looks heavy. She must have the Crown Jewels in there.’

  The boy hesitated, looking from one to the other. His mother was still rooted to the spot, her face drained of all colour now.

  ‘Go on, lad, chop-chop. I’ll help your mum, don’t worry.’

  As the boy moved to the rear passenger side and got in, closing the door behind him, the man moved round the front of the car with surprising speed. His fingers bit into her arms with a vice-like grip. His mouth was against her ear as he spat the words out.

  ‘Did you think you could leave me and take the boy with you, you silly bitch? I know every thought that runs through that pathetic head of yours. I know what you’re planning even before you do. If you want to leave me, do it the way I showed you. With a good sharp knife, or a bottle of pills. The boy stays with me. Now get in.’

  He made sure one of her legs was still out, her foot on the kerb, when he slammed the door shut with all his considerable force. She couldn’t stop the scream of pain which escaped her lips.

  Quickly, he wrenched the door open again, his face a carefully composed study of concern.

  ‘Oh, darling, you poor thing! Why did you pull it shut before you had both feet in, you silly thing? Here, let me have a look.’

  He crouched down next to her, seeing blood already soaking through the leg of her trousers. He put both hands round her calf, his two thumbs digging into the wound with brutal strength, making her scream again.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, that looks so nasty. I think I should take you straight round to Casualty to get it looked at. Don’t worry, lad, mum’s going to be absolutely fine. We’ll take her to the hospital now and get that poor old leg properly looked after.

  ‘What a good job I was coming past when I did. Your poor mum is so hopeless at looking after herself. And you. What a good thing it wasn’t you she managed to hurt, eh? I’m always saying it’s only a matter of time before she does.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘I think you all know DC Graham Winters, who’s come over to lend us a hand once more,’ Ted began at briefing the following morning. He’d spent time before going to the Central Park meeting the previous day ringing round his new teams, the ones he’d already met, and calling in extra people to boost numbers. Concentrating on ones he knew, or felt, could be an asset and hit the ground running.

  ‘This is Claire Spicer, a CIO, who’s kindly offered to lend a hand as she lives on our doorstep and she has experience of similar scams to ours. She’ll be working with you, Rob, on the Black Mould Scam. There’s a good possibility that it might be the same people behind it in both areas. If you start by comparing notes you may find some common ground to go from.’

  Civilian Investigation Officers could help to ease the workload on cases. Extra trained personnel for roles like statement taking from witnesses

  ‘And these are DCs Nick Cross and Andy Green. Jo, it’s up to you where you deploy people. Once I’ve been round the rest of the teams to get a feel for capabilities and workloads, I may be able to free up more reinforcements to send you, if necessary.’

  He turned to the newcomers as he said, ‘DI Jo Rodriguez will be in charge while I’m out of the office. As well as the scam which Claire will be working on, we have an ongoing possible murder case which will also need a lot of witness interviews and statement taking. DS Mike Hallam is in charge of that. What’s the latest with our suspect, Mike?’

  ‘Jo and I spoke to CPS yesterday, boss, while you were out. We’re all in agreement that we haven’t anything to charge him with at the moment, so we released him on pre-charge bail. That at least gives us the full twenty-eight days to see if we can make a case against him, once we have all the forensic results and the PM’s been done.

  ‘He’s still singing the song of the innocent, playing the grieving new widower, and wanting the boy back in his custody. Child Protection aren’t keen on that at the moment. They want to do a thorough safeguarding investigation, of course, and as the man is not his biological father and doesn’t have legal custody, he can’t force the issue for now.

  ‘So we’ll be very glad of the extra help with all the statements we’ll need to take to build some sort of a case, at least, if there is any forensic evidence for us to take it further.’

  ‘Right, fine. Jo, I’ll be sloping off shortly so you’re at the helm. I’ll be on the end of the phone if you need me for any reason.’

  Ted didn’t want to leave immediately, although Hector would be waiting for him in five minutes or so. He wanted to sit quietly and observe for a moment, as he often did. In particular, he wanted to see what Jo had seen in Steve’s behaviour to raise his concern.

  He spotted it straight away. With unfamiliar faces joining the team, Steve would normally be on edge, only inputting occasionally and then hesitantly, unsure of himself in front of strangers. Now he didn’t appear to be paying much attention at all to what was going on around him. He spent most of the time sitting staring into space, his gaze vacant. Occasionally he’d jerk himself back to the here and now with an obvious effort, but it didn’t last long. It wasn’t like him.

  Once he’d seen enough, Ted went to his office to collect his things, then down to the car park where Hector had his car close by.

  ‘Morning, Ted, where to first today?’

  ‘Trafford again, please, ’eck,’ Ted told him, climbing into the back seat without being told to this time. ‘I want to see how Sarah’s getting on with her possible killer with a cast-iron alibi. Although I’m sure she’ll have everything well under control. She seems very competent.

  ‘I won’t be long there, I don’t suppose. But long enough for you to grab a cuppa somewhere, I should think.’

  Ted knew his new driver liked the opportunity to catch up with people he knew from his own days in the force.

  ‘Then I need to explore the other far-flung corners of my new empire. I hope you’ve got your passport with you. We might even need to go as far as Ashton.’

  Hector gave him a sideways glance at that.

  ‘Oh, ’eck, do they even speak the same language there? Give me a quick bell when you’re done and on your way back out. I’ve got some old friends at Trafford so it’s nice to have a quick catch-up when I can.’

  Ted was even more impressed when he watched the recording of DS Sarah Jenkins’ initial interview with their suspect. The man
was clearly a slippery character, used to police interviews. He hadn’t even bothered with a solicitor. His attitude, and his sole response throughout, had been, ‘Prove it.’

  For the moment, he seemed fairly confident that they couldn’t, and that his collection of eyewitnesses to put him elsewhere at the time of death was all he needed to avoid being charged with murder.

  ‘What he doesn’t know for the moment is that the Investigators at the crime scene have managed to get more detail out of the boot print on the door, where it was kicked open, than they initially thought they would. The boot is common enough work footwear, widely available and very popular.

  ‘The good news for us is that the boot in question has a possibly unique pattern. There’s a small nick out of one of the soles.’

  ‘Make my day and tell me Johnson has a corresponding pair of boots,’ Ted told her.

  ‘He does indeed. He must have changed out of them when he left the house to set up his alibi at the pub because he wasn’t wearing them when he was brought in for questioning. The house is still closed off as a potential crime scene and he can’t get back in there. But once the results were in, one of the CSIs had a look round and found them stuffed at the back of a cupboard. At least, on a superficial look, they appear to be the same boots. We need a warrant now to seize them, and anything else which looks as if it might help us.’

  ‘I can probably sort out a warrant before I go on to my next visit, if that helps and frees you up? One more thing I thought of, although I’m sure you’re ahead of me there. The next door neighbour who reported this, and whose account of life in that household differs so much from the others. He’s presumably at risk, if this bloke is as nasty a character as he appears to be.’

  ‘Already sorted. I talked to him about it. He has a second cousin out Northwich way, so he’s gone to stay there for now. Like I said, he’s older and perhaps not in the very best of health so I didn’t want him meeting some sort of unfortunate accident before we need him to testify, if it gets that far.’

  ‘Excellent. You’re covering all bases. You don’t need me to tell you that our chances of getting a murder charge brought in the first place on this are slim, and of a conviction, even slimmer. I think the best CPS are going to agree to is a manslaughter charge. Even if we get as far as putting him at the scene at the relevant time, I imagine he’s going to bluff it out and admit, at best, to having pushed her. Proving intent to kill, unless the PM throws up a miracle, is probably a pipe dream. But good work so far. You and all your team. Keep me posted.’

  ‘Right, let’s see what Ashton has to offer us,’ Ted said, as Hector pulled the car up near to the main entrance at that station to drop him off. ‘Big Jim warned me that some of this team might need a bit of a shake-up. One in particular. Jim never let them get away with anything, of course, but he said they might try it on with me being new.’

  Hector chuckled.

  ‘From what I’ve heard about you, that should be a piece of cake for you.’

  Ted was gathering his papers together and stuffing them back in his briefcase as Hector spoke.

  ‘It’s a pity I have to waste my time dealing with stuff like that when we all have enough work to do as it is,’ he grumbled, then headed for the entrance as Hector went to park the car.

  He presented his ID to the civilian on the front desk but declined the offer of getting someone to show him the way to the CID office. He preferred to drop in unannounced here, to get a feeling for what the team members were like.

  There was only one person in the office. A young woman, working away at her computer. She had short, glossy, black hair, and glasses which gave her a studious air.

  She looked up as Ted entered the office and asked, ‘Can I help you?’

  Ted held up the ID round his neck. ‘DCI Darling, from Stockport. I did send word I was coming today at some time. Are the rest of the team around?’

  She stood up and held out a hand to him.

  ‘Oh yes, it was mentioned. I’m Lee Wu, the token female, and token civilian. The rest of them are out somewhere on some sort of case conference, but I don’t know where, or when they’re due back.’

  Ted shook her hand.

  ‘Is there no log anywhere to tell me who’s where?' he asked her, although as it was shortly after two in the afternoon, he could hazard a guess, from what he’d been told. ‘And if it’s a case conference, why are you not included?’

  She smiled at him as she resumed her seat.

  ‘Oh, no particular reason. Other than me being a civilian. And a woman. And very obviously not from round here.’

  She smiled again as she said it, but her words made Ted frown. He didn’t like discrimination, of any kind. He looked around for the nearest chair and asked, as he pulled it closer, always aware of personal space issues, ‘Do you mind if I sit down? Is this okay for you?’

  She gave him a look of mild curiosity, clearly not used to such an approach.

  ‘That’s fine. Do you want me to make you some coffee? Or some tea?’

  Ted hoped that didn’t indicate that she was always the one who brewed up for the team.

  ‘I want to go and find the rest of the team, before they come back.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know where they are.’

  ‘I’ll find them, don’t worry. I have a good nose for finding out where coppers go at dinner time. Right now, I’m more concerned to hear that you may have experienced racist and sexist remarks from them. Is that so?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘It’s nothing really. One of them calls me Chop Suey sometimes. If I react, I’m told I don’t understand blokeish humour.’

  ‘I don’t find remarks like that humorous. I don’t find discrimination of any kind funny. Speaking as a short, skinny, gay bloke called Darling who’s encountered plenty of it in his time. Look, here’s my card. If ever you want to talk to me, about anything – on or off the record – please feel free to call me, at any time.’

  He stood up and put the chair away neatly before he left the office. Lee Wu was left looking after him as he left. He wasn’t like any Senior Investigating Officer she’d encountered before on her short career to date as a Civilian Investigator.

  Ted pulled his mobile out as he went downstairs, to call Hector.

  ‘Can you please ask whichever copper you’re with which watering hole CID might use for their dinner break,’ he asked him.

  He heard ’eck relay the message, than laughter in the background as several voices supplied the name of a pub.

  Hector repeated the name into the phone, in case Ted hadn’t caught it, and gave him directions. It wasn’t far, as Ted had suspected. He found there was generally a pub within walking distance of most police stations.

  He knew the team wouldn’t have dared take a pub lunch if Jim Baker was about. Nor, hopefully, when their own DI was present.

  Much of the lunchtime trade had departed. There were still a few stragglers sitting at the bar, plus a group of three men at a corner table. Ted’s copper’s nose told him immediately they were the missing CID officers. He walked over to them. His ID was now tucked away in his pocket.

  ‘I’m DCI Darling. Which one of you is DS Ramsay?’

  The one sitting in the middle of the three of them looked guilty and got hastily to his feet.

  ‘Sorry, guv, we were on a late meal break. Lee didn’t fancy joining us, so we did a bit of shop talk over our sandwiches. Cases she’s not involved with.

  ‘I went to the office first. Your CIO didn’t seem to know where you were, so I came to find you.’

  ‘Yes, sorry again, guv, I should have told her where to find us, and to give me a bell when you arrived so we could be back to meet you. We’ve not been drinking. It’s all soft drinks.’

  Ted didn’t believe the half of it. Especially not from the way the older of the two DCs avoided his gaze and busied himself stacking dirty plates, scrunching up empty crisp packets. It had clearly been a lengthy lunch break, but he could a
t least see that the lager bottles were alcohol-free. They may have been pushing boundaries, but clearly not enough to risk their jobs.

  ‘Well, now I’m here and meal break is over. So I’d like you all back at your desks in five minutes, please. I want a full run-down of everything the team is working on. And that includes your CIO’s casework too, of course.’

  Ted may not have had the same impressive stature as Big Jim. But the way he stood his ground, quietly waiting for signs of movement, left the three men in no doubt. Slowly, they stirred themselves and got ready to leave. Ted was not surprised that the older DC was the last to make any effort to get up and go. He could see that he was going to have to come down hard on him, and soon, if they weren’t going to be wasting time with petty power struggles.

  * * *

  ‘As you can see, nurse, my wife’s had a nasty accident. She managed to pull the car door shut on her leg. I don’t think you realised how gusty the wind was, did you, darling? I thought I’d better bring her straight in because it looks quite bad.’

  The nurse looked round the small cubicle, assessing the situation. For some reason, the man’s opening remarks put her on alert. She hadn’t put her nose outside for much of her shift but when she had done, for a quick breath of fresh air, she hadn’t noticed it being windy at all. And her sharp eyes hadn’t missed the look the young boy had given the man when he’d mentioned what had happened.

  The woman was sitting passively on the bed, keeping her eyes cast down while the man was speaking. She didn’t seem inclined to say anything herself.

  Something about the family dynamics didn’t feel quite right. But then, the nurse reminded herself, she might simply have been over-reacting after doing the safeguarding update training so recently.

  ‘I think the first thing to do might be to take the boy somewhere he can have a drink of pop or something. Do you want to go with him, dad?’