by L M Krier
‘A bully, would you say, from what you were told?’ Ted queried.
‘Definitely. That and a thoroughly nasty individual. I was careful not to lead any witnesses, and only the top management appear to have been informed of the reason for his absence. It’s a smallish place so inevitably it’s got round that his wife has died and quite a few of the blokes I spoke to asked me straight out if he’d had anything to do with it. He didn’t talk to any of them much, except to kick backsides if production rates started to slide. But I got the impression of quite a piece of work with a bit of a dark side to him.’
‘But no report of any physical violence in the workplace? And he has no record of any?’
‘No record for anything,’ DC Cross told him. ‘No one said anything outright, but there were a few hints. I got the impression that if he ever did thump someone they would have known better than to say anything about it to anyone, if they wanted to keep their job.’
‘What about family? Jo, have we traced any relatives of either the victim or the suspect?’
‘Not for him, yet, no. Our victim has a sister somewhere, apparently, but not locally. We’re still trying to trace her. It doesn’t seem as if they were in close contact at all. From what the neighbours have been saying, our victim lived a solitary life, apart from the boy. No visitors, and she didn’t seem to go out much at all.’
‘Where are we up to with the boy? Maurice, Jezza, how did your meeting go?’
‘Maurice and I appear to have passed Stage One with flying colours, boss,’ Jezza told him. ‘There’ll need to be a full interview strategy meeting next, to make sure the boy is safeguarded as a witness, and we’ll be at that, tomorrow. They want us to give them a day or two before we start talking to him. They need to find someone he trusts who can also attend to make sure he feels safe and comfortable at all times. At the moment, he’s finding it a bit hard to form a relationship with anyone, but they do understand we’re a bit on the clock and we need to crack on as soon as we can.’
‘And the Black Mould Scam? Rob?’
‘Coming along nicely, boss,’ Rob O’Connell told him. ‘Mrs Hamer is sharp. She picked out two people who are already known to us and have form. Very little hesitation. The other two victims on our patch were a bit more hesitant, but they both went for the same ones after studying them all for a bit. One of the victims of Claire’s cases ID'd one of them straight away, but dithered a bit over the second. We’ve been round to both suspect addresses we have so far but found no one at home yet. We’ll try again tomorrow and keep on trying.’
‘I’m sorting warrants to search both premises for possible stolen goods, boss,’ Jo put in. ‘Steve’s been looking at similar cases further afield in case there might be a connection. Steve?’
The movement was slight but Ted noticed it. Once again Steve had appeared to be miles away until he heard the DI address him.
‘Sir, yes, I’ve compiled a list of anything with the same MO, and cross-referenced any descriptions against the ones we currently have. Some of the descriptions are a bit vague. The older victims admit to having poor eyesight, which makes them easy targets as they might not spot things like dodgy ID.’
He stopped and looked round anxiously.
‘I don’t mean that in an ageist way, or anything.’
‘It’s fine, Steve. Factual. That’s what makes these such cynical crimes. Soft targets. That's why it would be nice to get it nipped in the bud, and soon.’
Trev saw Ted glance towards the door of the gym yet again and spoke quietly to him so no one else could hear him.
‘If he said he’s coming, he’ll be here, Ted. Let’s get started.’
The two of them were doing a series of stretching exercises, with the children who came to learn self-defence from them once a week.
Ted was visibly on edge. Much to his surprise, the ACC had phoned him, having read the report he’d put in about domestic violence, and asked if he could come along to the club to hear more about one of the ideas Ted had proposed. He’d apologised for the short notice but said he needed to be in the area earlier on in the day, so he could easily call in.
Ted always felt out of his comfort zone when different aspects of his life overlapped for any reason. He tried never to take work back to the house. And he was never comfortable about allowing work colleagues into any part of his private life. But this was important. Too much so to let his personal feelings get in the way.
The session was getting into full swing when the door opened and the ACC crept in, mouthing a ‘Sorry’ in Ted’s direction. He spotted the protocol, the line of outdoor shoes neatly lined up by the entrance, so slipped out of his own, then went to sit on the low bench against the wall of the gym, where one or two parents were watching their children.
He’d obviously come straight from a work engagement as he was still in uniform. His appearance caught the attention of some of the youngsters, especially young Flip, who idolised Ted so much he was determined to join the police himself. Ted called a brief halt to explain.
‘As you can see, we have a visitor, and he’s a police officer. He’s one of my bosses, in fact. He’s come along this evening because I’ve told him about the code word system Trev and I have taught you. Arranging a word or phrase that you tell us and only us, which means that if ever you say it here, we know straight away that you need help with something you can’t talk about with others around.
‘But first, let’s go over the basics. If you’re frightened or you think you’re in danger, what can you do?’
One or two hands shot up, but most of the children spoke up without hesitation, calling out, ‘Phone Childline!’
‘Good. Excellent. Now, if you can’t do that for any reason, who should you talk to?’
‘A teacher!’
‘A policeman!’
Several voices at once were anxious to supply the right answer. Flip took it a stage further.
‘A police officer,’ he corrected, ‘cos it could be a woman. An’ if they’ve not got uniform on, like him over there has, you ask to see some ID to make sure it really is a police officer.’
‘That’s exactly right. Always make sure you know exactly who you’re talking to. And remember, some people might tell you they’re something like a police officer and it may not be true. So always check. And if you’re in any doubt ...’
‘Run away!’
The chorus of voices this time was unanimous.
‘So now, Flip, without using your own code, can you give us an example of the sort of thing someone might use to signal to someone who knows the code that they’re in trouble or danger of some sort and that they need to talk, urgently and in private?’
Flip beamed his pride at being singled out. Without hesitating, he said, ‘Me dog’s having puppies.’
‘And Trev and I would know that isn’t true because we know you don’t have a dog. Good one. Now, who can tell me what you must never do with your code?’
Another chorus of young voices joined in at that point.
‘Cry wolf!’
Trev replied to them this time.
‘Exactly so. Never use your code if you don’t really need to. You keep your special word or phrase for genuine emergencies only and you never, ever misuse it, even if you think it would be funny. Well done, all of you.
‘Right, let’s get you all moving again now so you don’t stiffen up. Pair off and we’ll go over that last move we showed you once again. Someone you don’t know grabs you from behind unexpectedly, so let’s see how you react.’
Ted was surprised to see that the ACC stayed to watch the session to the end. He’d fully expected him to slip away quietly once he’d seen the relevant part, but he seemed to be happily enthralled, watching the youngsters go through their training session. His presence made Ted hesitate about finishing up with his usual demonstration with Trev, but there was no way the youngsters were going to let him off the hook, no matter who was watching. They wanted it as fast and furious as it u
sually was and he didn’t like to disappoint them.
Once they’d finished with the usual formal bows, Ted grabbed his towel to wipe his face then slung it round his neck as he walked across to talk to the ACC.
‘That was very impressive, Ted. You have those youngsters eating out of your hand. And your code word scheme seems like an excellent idea. When we can both find a bit of time, let’s get together and talk more about how we could roll the idea out to schools and youth organisations, as you suggested, for those who don’t already have such a safeguard in place.
‘Oh, and having seen your demonstration with your Trev at the end, I’d better think very carefully in future before I decide to jerk your chain for anything.’
* * *
She sat next to her son at the dining table as he did his homework. She resisted the temptation to reach out a hand to brush his fringe out of his eyes. It would only irritate him and break his concentration. He was trying so hard to get everything right. He’d found his dictionary and kept checking carefully the spelling of every unfamiliar word. Making sure his writing was neat and easy to read, and stayed on the line.
Occasionally he would pause to look at his mother, sometimes with a small smile. It made her heart melt.
She had the time to sit and enjoy being with him, for once. His father was on a day shift so he’d be home soon. The meal was under control. At least she hoped it was. The pie was in the oven, so it should be cooked through, with a nice crispy crust, by the time they were ready to sit down and eat. The potatoes were simmering on a low light. There were just the vegetables to put on as soon as he got home.
For once she’d decided to try having them all sitting down to a meal at the same time. He might like that. Like a proper family. She’d laid the table for them all in the kitchen so the boy didn’t need to put all his books away while they ate, in case he hadn’t quite finished his homework to the correct standard.
She hadn’t bothered to try to help him with it. She only ever made things worse. The same way she did with everything she touched. She always tried her best, but her best was never good enough, she knew that. The boy had inherited his slight build and timid ways from her, but his brains were far better than hers, even at such a young age. She would never dare to say it but he was already showing signs of an intellect far above that of his father.
He was bright enough. Good at his job. He’d done well to get where he was. But it was clear his son was going to far outstrip him, as he got older. He was not yet at secondary school and she was already dreaming of university for him. Of going to watch him at his graduation. Would he have to wear one of those black gowns? She wasn’t at all sure. No one from her family had ever been to university. But she knew her wonderful boy could get there.
She jumped to her feet as she heard the key in the front door. She’d been so lost in her thoughts and dreams that she hadn’t heard him put the car away in the garage. Perhaps he was planning to go out again later so had left it outside.
She hurried into the kitchen to put the vegetables on. The timing might be all wrong now. What if the pie was starting to burn before they were cooked? She was so stupid. Of course the boy hadn’t inherited any brains from her. She clearly had none if she couldn’t even cook an evening meal properly.
‘The food won’t be long, love,’ she told him as soon as he came through the door. She tried not to sound defensive, aware that she was, as usual, making excuses before they were even called for. Attempting to deflect blame before it landed. ‘I was just giving the lad time to finish off his homework properly.’
He went through the motions of planting a kiss on her cheek, calling out as he did so, ‘I’ll be through in a minute, lad, to check up on your work. Make sure it’s properly up to standard.’
‘I haven’t looked at it yet,’ she told him. ‘He’s been getting on with it so nicely. I know I’m not up to helping him, especially now he’s getting older. So I left it for you to look.’
He snorted at that.
‘He’s as skinny as you are but he certainly gets his brains from me.’
She spoke again. Hesitantly. So far he was calm, though as contemptuous of her as ever. She hardly dared voice her dream in case it provoked an explosion.
‘Will he get to university, do you think? I keep thinking how wonderful it would be if he did and if we got to go to see him graduate.’
‘You think he’d want you there?’ he sneered. ‘Look at yourself. You’d be an embarrassment to him.’ He mocked her voice as he said, ‘I’ve helped him with his homework. Yes, and we all know what happens to the standard of his work when you do. Of course he wouldn’t want you there. He’s got his brains from me so if he gets to Uni and if he graduates, it’s me he’ll want there on his big day. Not you.’
She bent her head over the pan so he couldn’t see the tears spring to her eyes at his wounding words.
There was a sudden noise as the boy erupted into the kitchen and flew at his father, small fists trying to pummel at him as he screamed, ‘Stop it! Stop staying things like that to my mum. I will always want her there, if ever I do well at anything. She’s my mum and I love her.’
The man sighed. He simply used his strong arms to hold the boy away from him as he told him patiently, ‘You’re just a little lad at the moment so of course you love your mum. That’s natural. But as you get a bit older, you’ll start to see what an embarrassment it would be to have your new friends at Uni see what a stupid mother you have.
‘That’s always assuming she doesn’t manage to do something really dangerous and kill one or other of you. Because believe me, lad, she’s more than capable of doing that.
‘Now I’m off to the pub. Whatever she’s cooked will be shit, as usual, and it would stick in my throat.’
He looked directly at the boy as he let go of him, his expression not unkind.
‘Believe me, boy, one of these days you’ll wish you’d listened to me. Wish you’d seen what your precious mother really is and what she’s capable of. I only hope it won’t be too late, when that happens, to save yourself.’
Chapter Twelve
‘That went really well, didn’t it? The kids were fantastic,’ Trev said, as they got into the car to drive home. ‘I thought Flip was going to wet himself with excitement when he saw the ACC in uniform turning up. It was kind of you to give him the chance to shine.’
‘Well, if he’s serious in his plans to join the Force, there’s no harm in bringing him to the attention of a senior officer. Although Russell Evans will probably have retired long before Flip is old enough to join.’
‘Will he make it into the force, do you think? You’re always saying they’re looking for degrees or the equivalent these days. Is Flip up to that?’
‘I honestly don’t know. It’s not all graduates, though. There are other routes to join. And if sheer determination is anything to go by, Flip will make it. I hope he does. I’ll certainly give him a reference any time he needs one.’
‘You have remembered it’s the weekend after this one that I’m going down to London for this “how to be a better prosecution witness” thing, and to meet up with Eirian, haven’t you? So what are the chances of you taking one full day off this weekend, so we can spend some uninterrupted quality time together?’
Trev laid a suggestive hand on Ted’s leg as he posed the question, and cautioned him, ‘Think very carefully before you answer, Ted, for fear of incriminating yourself.’
‘Has your sister got permission for the weekend, or is she going to be nicking off, yet again?’
Trev threw his head back and laughed.
‘Yes, Mr Policeman, it’s all above board. An official exeat, and I’ve phoned the school myself to check.’
The traffic lights were on red so Ted turned to look at him for a moment before they changed and he needed to drive on.
‘And are you still all right with this? Seeing old faces, dredging up memories? I’m sorry I can’t come with you, but phone me wheneve
r you need to.’
‘It will be very strange staying in the London flat again. Goodness knows how long it is since I was last there. I have very mixed memories of that place. But, yes, it’ll be fine, I’m sure. Eirian will cheer me up, if needed.
‘So what about a day this weekend? Blow away a few cobwebs. Anywhere you fancy. Kinder, if you like.’
Ted put the car in gear as the lights changed, then pulled away smoothly.
‘Sunday,’ he said confidently. ‘I’ll book it as a definite day off. Do not disturb, and all that.’
Trev’s chuckle was slightly rueful.
‘That’s enough to put the kiss of death on our plans. But I’ll hold you to it. Sunday it is. No excuses.’
Most of the team members were out as Mike started the day by feeding back what he had so far from the post-mortem. Maurice and Jezza had gone to their pre-interview meeting about the boy, their potential witness. Rob and Claire were out in search of their scammers, taking Steve and Virgil with them, so they could hit both properties at the same time. They hoped to get lucky with at least one of them that way. Graham Winters had been sent up to Ashton to replace Alan Burgess. He’d be a useful addition, quietly keeping things on track. Nick Cross and Andy Green were both still on statement taking from the flats where the Stockport victim had died. For once they were finding no shortage of people with plenty to say on the subject of what they had heard going on in the flat. Steve Ellis was at his desk, collating anything involving both cases. Ted noticed he at least appeared to be more focused on his work.
Mike was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. He checked the screen, then said, ‘It’s the pathologist, so we might hopefully have an update.’