by David Evans
Some shouting from out in the street disturbed his concentration. Torch switched off, he studied his watch, angling the face towards the windows so he could see. He’d been here too long.
At the door he paused, opened it and slipped out into the corridor. Just about to put his foot on the bottom step, a voice called out.
“Now then, young Monk,” Sgt Sidebotham said. “What are you doing up there?”
“Oh, er …I was just putting something underneath the Inspector’s door,” he flustered.
The sergeant looked to his watch. “Your shift’s finished isn’t it? Get yourself off home.”
“Yes sarge.” Monk walked away but could feel Sidebotham’s eyes boring into his back. He only hoped he wouldn’t repeat the lie he’d just told him to Strong.
64
Thursday 28th February 2002
EFFECTS STILL FELT FROM UNSOLVED MURDER
Today, in the second of our features on the unsolved murder of 14-year-old Claire Hobson nearly twenty years ago, we focus on the devastating effects still felt by Claire’s family and friends.
NEW APPEAL FOR WITNESSES TO PARK MURDER
Police are launching a fresh appeal for anyone in the vicinity of Wakefield Park on the evening of Wednesday 13th February and saw any suspicious behaviour near the toilet block to come forward and speak to them. Any information given will be treated in the strictest confidence.
Souter led Alison gently down the corridor towards the lifts. He was carrying baby David snug in a blanket, she was wrapped up in a warm coat. Behind, Sammy carried a small case containing Alison’s clothes and all the new-born paraphernalia they would need for the first week or so at home.
“You didn’t need to take any more time off work,” Alison had said.
“But you’ve just had an operation and you’ll need an extra pair of hands today – just to get you home,” Sammy had responded.
Alison had relented. “Well, only just today.”
Souter drew the car to a halt by the entrance and came to help Alison outside. The cold air was a shock after the past few days being inside a building with stifling temperatures, and she drew her coat tighter around her neck. A couple of smokers dressed in pyjamas and dressing gowns were huddled nearby. Sammy looked at them and shook her head.
With David asleep in his new car seat strapped in the back, Alison alongside him and Sammy in the front, Souter checked all round and slowly set off for Ossett.
“Are you going in to the office today?” Sammy asked as they drove past the Post building.
“Not when my new family are coming home,” he said.
“But you’ve got some work to do, Bob,” Alison said from behind them. “And Susan said she was going in at lunchtime to tweak some of the articles you’ve been working on together.”
“Anybody would think you wanted to get rid of me,” he replied.
Sammy looked across at Souter and caught Alison’s grin from the seat behind him.
* * *
Ormerod knocked on Strong’s office door and was beckoned inside. “Guv, might be something and nothing …”
“Go on, Luke.”
“I’ve just been speaking with Trevor and he’s dealing with a break-in on a building site in Morley last night. Uniform attended and called it in. Some expensive kit was lifted.”
“What sort of ‘expensive kit’?”
“Surveying instruments – laser levels, that sort of thing.”
“A site in Morley, you say?”
“Yep. And it’s as you think – the same one where Andy Barrett is based.”
“Is Trevor there now?”
“About to head out there.”
“Good. Get yourself along with him, Luke, and have another chat with Barrett. You can tell him about Pollock, if he doesn’t already know. I’ve got something else to attend to here.”
“Will do.”
“Is Kelly in?”
“Yes, guv.” Ormerod left and closed the door.
Strong produced an item from the plastic bag he’d brought in with him that morning and studied it. He switched on his desk lamp, held it beneath and inspected it more closely.
After a few seconds, he put it back in the bag, stood and made his way to the CID Room. He searched out Kelly Stainmore and, with a discreet nod of the head, encouraged her to leave the room and follow him.
“Something up, guv?” she asked once out in the corridor.
“We’re going to see the Super,” he said. “I need to tell him about my visit to Stoke yesterday and I want you to be in on it.”
“Stoke?” Stainmore queried as she followed her boss up the stair to the Flynn’s office. “I wondered where you were.”
“I went to see Paul Nichols, not that he lives by that name anymore. I can’t really tell you anything else, but it was a productive afternoon.”
He’d seen Flynn briefly earlier that morning and told him he needed a word.
“Come in and sit down,” DCS Flynn greeted the pair.
Sitting opposite, Strong began to recount his visit to the garden centre in Stoke the previous afternoon. DCS Joe Gilfoyle had met him in the car park and explained as much about the nature of Nichols new identity as he felt he could. He was working in the garden centre and, after a brief phone call from Gilfoyle to Nichols, Strong was asked to meet the man in the cafeteria on his own.
“I wasn’t told what had led to Nichols’ entry into the Witness Protection Scheme, only that he’d agreed to speak to me provided I wasn’t told about it or even his new identity.”
“So what was he able to tell you?” Flynn asked.
He reached into his pocket and brought out the evidence bag and produced the tunic button. “He found this by the body of Claire Hobson.”
Flynn picked it up and examined it. “Are you sure this is genuine?”
“I’m checking it with the MOD, but I’m fairly sure.”
Flynn passed the button to Stainmore. “Can we get some images of this regiment’s coat of arms, do you think?” she asked Strong.
“There’s got to be something available, Kelly.”
“What are you thinking?” Flynn asked.
“The tattoo on Mrs Monk’s attacker’s arm could be this coat of arms. In which case we would need to speak to her again to see if it prompts anything she could remember.”
“Good idea.”
“But then …” Strong thought, “do we release information on this lead to the press? You know the Post is featuring the case, focussing on the family and an appeal for new information. Have they spoken to you about this series of articles they’re running?”
“I had that Souter fellow call me a few days ago,” Flynn responded. “Cheeky beggar asked me if we’re conducting a cold-case review. I left my answer fairly non-committal.” At that, he stood, walked to the window and looked out.
Strong and Stainmore exchanged looks and waited for Flynn to continue.
“Let’s just see what Mrs Monk says first,” he finally said turning back to face them. “If she thinks it could be connected, then we might make an appeal on what we know.”
“But there’s Gary, sir,” Strong said. “How do you suggest we handle that?”
“He doesn’t know anything about the connection with the Claire Hobson case though, does he?”
“Not from us. And we haven’t said anything to his mother either.”
Flynn was silent for a few seconds then said, “Okay, get some image of the Green Howards crest, check when PC Monk is on duty and visit his mother then. If she confirms, I’ll think about briefing the papers. Meantime, I’ll speak with ACC Mellor and put him in the picture.”
* * *
The site offices were a hive of SOC activities. The thieves had used bolt cutters on the gates and broken into the offices with relative ease. Unfortunately, there was no CCTV coverage. The site manager was trying to keep progress on the construction works flowing as best he could.
Ormerod was back in Andy Barrett’s off
ice, leaning against the sloping drawing desk. “So most of these instruments were what your department used, Mr Barrett?”
“That’s right. I’ve had to send out for hire replacements.”
An officer was dusting the smashed door frame to the equipment cupboard at the rear of the office for prints.
“So who would know these instruments were stored there?”
“Could be anybody who’s worked on the site.”
“But who would normally have access to them?”
“Me and young Michael, the chain lad, normally.”
Ormerod thought for a moment and caught the eye of the Scenes of Crime Officer who indicated he’d found something to work with. “Would you object if we took some fingerprints … for elimination purposes? You and Michael for a start. What about the site manager, would he have access?”
“Of course he would.”
“Okay, I’ll organise that. If you say a lot of those who worked on site knew you kept them in there, then you never know, they may show up.”
Barrett shrugged and seemed distracted. “Whatever,” he said. “I just need to get on. We’re ten days behind already with this freezing weather, but we’re trying to catch up.”
Ormerod pushed himself off the desk, casually walked to the window and looked out at the activity on site. “Last time I was here,” he said, in a matter of fact fashion, “we asked you about your wife, Felicity …” He turned and faced Barrett. “Have you heard from her since?”
“What? Well, yes actually. She texted the other day to say she just needed some space for a while.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Barrett hesitated. “No. it was from a withheld number.”
Ormerod raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Really? You know we think we know who murdered her cousin, Mark Thompson?”
Barrett looked up from the drawing he was studying. “I didn’t, no. Who was it?”
“Well, tests are still being carried out but we think the perpetrator is dead.”
A fearful expression came over Barrett’s face before he seemed to relax. “Was it anyone Mark knew?”
“We’re still looking at connections, but probably.”
“And how did …?”
“We can’t really divulge any more details at the moment. But if Mrs Barrett gets in touch again, perhaps you could ask her to give me a call?”
A questioning look came over the man’s face.
“I just need to tidy up a few details, that’s all.” Ormerod walked over to the SOCO. “If you could take Mr Barrett’s prints, this lad, Michael’s and the site manager’s when you’re done,” he said to him.
Before he left the office, Ormerod turned back to Barrett. “You can tell her the news about Mr Thompson’s attacker too,” he said.
* * *
Alison had convinced Souter that she and baby David would be absolutely fine with Sammy in the house alongside them. “After all, she’d already taken the day off to help,” Alison argued. “And you can’t be away from your stories for too long.”
Reluctantly, he drove back to Leeds and in the early afternoon, climbed the stairs to the newsroom floor and his desk. Susan was sitting in his chair looking through some notes she’d made. Janey Clarke’s desk at the next work station was empty.
“Kicked you out then?” Susan quipped when she saw him approach.
“Anybody would think I was a nuisance,” he said.
“Not like you were driving Alison nuts by fussing around?”
“Is that what she thinks?”
Susan just grinned and indicated Janey’s chair. “She’s gone out,” she said.
“Do you know if there’s been any response to the Weaver murder witness appeal?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but I’ve been thinking …”
“Go on.”
“What do we know about the case?”
Souter began to relate his conversation with the dog walker who’d found the body, the position and how it was presented. “But we now know Weaver was definitely there for a bit of physical exercise with Charlotte,” he went on. “Which makes it seem that he was positioned in an attempt to make it look like he was there for slightly different reasons. And fair play to Colin’s team, they’ve never mentioned that.”
“But was it to disguise the fact that Weaver had stumbled into something else? Not any homosexual activity but …” Susan thought out loud, “… oh, I don’t know.”
“And the dog walker also spoke of the three men he’d seen, one on his own and two more approaching the toilets when he was walking away from the direction of the building. He also mentioned the car driving off when he was heading back, which we now know belongs to Charlotte.
“So was he able to expand on any description of these men?” Susan asked.
Souter puffed out his cheeks. “I did press him, but how accurate this was, I can’t say, but talking about the two men approaching the toilets, he thought one was quite young, twenties maybe, with the other man middle-aged, shorter, stockier. But, like I say, that probably wouldn’t stand up to any degree of close scrutiny.”
“So the older one … could be in his fifties … oh, I don’t know.”
“What are you thinking, Susan?”
She stared into the middle distance for several seconds. “I was just wondering if there was a connection with the Weaver incident and Danny’s grabbing a bag full of money the next night for Thompson?”
“Bit of a leap, isn’t it?”
“What if the exchange should have taken place at the toilets but something went wrong? Weaver walks in on something he shouldn’t have. The operation is pulled and rearranged for the following evening, but by different means. Hence Danny gets a call that day to do Mark a favour.”
“But you said that Mark had told Danny it wasn’t drugs. So what else could have been so important?”
“Blackmail?” Susan suggested.
“It’s possible I suppose, bearing in mind the time of night and dubious location … but we’ve nothing to suggest that. I think it’s all speculation at the moment. We need more information.”
* * *
About an hour after his briefing with Flynn, Strong received the email attaching an image of the Green Howards crest. It certainly matched the button.
Gathering Kelly Stainmore from the CID room, they set off for Denby Dale to visit Mrs Monk.
“Does she know we’re coming?” Stainmore asked once they’d set off.
“I spoke to her before I came to see you,” he responded. “And Gary’s on duty, I believe.”
“It’ll be interesting to see if she’s told him the truth.”
“Hmm,” was all Strong said. The rest of the journey passed in silence.
For what seemed like the umpteenth time in recent weeks, Strong and Stainmore walked up the path to the Monk residence. Again, the front door opened before they reached it.
Mrs Monk led them into the front room. “So what do you want to show me?” she asked.
“Before I do, Mrs Monk … Annabel,” Strong began. “We wondered if you’d had a conversation with Gary about the situation?”
She bowed her head and Strong knew what the answer would be. She looked up at him defiant and related the exchange she had had with her son a few days before. “But, like me, he doesn’t have any clue as to why you’re so interested in this man – his biological father.”
Strong sighed before producing a sheet of paper from the briefcase he’d brought with him. He held it out towards her but she didn’t take it. Instead she turned away and closed her eyes.
“I understand if this is too painful for you, Annabel,” Strong said, turning the image from her. “But …”
She held up a hand. “Give me a second,” she said. “I’m just trying to recall something. I’ve been trying to think about this ever since Gary and I had the conversation.” She waved in the direction of the sheet of paper. “If that’s what I think it is …”
Slowly, she
opened her eyes and stared at Strong. “I remember some figures,” she said. “’X I X’. And a date, ‘1875’.”
Strong looked to Stainmore then back to the woman. “And what was that from?”
“The tattoo … on his arm. I told you it seemed to be some form of crest. And God knows, I looked at it for some time that night.”
Again, Strong held out the sheet of paper. Finally, she took it and looked at the image before closing her eyes again, forcing the tears from them. She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and gave the paper back to Strong. “That’s what I remember,” she said. “That was the tattoo on the man’s arm.”
“And I think you told me last time, but can you tell me again, which arm?”
“Left.”
“Thank you, Annabel.”
As they stood to leave, Strong handed her his card. “You’ve been a great help,” he said. “But if you think of anything else, no matter how small, give me a call.”
65
Friday 1st March 2002
APPEAL FOR NEW INFORMATION IN TWENTY-YEAR-OLD UNSOLVED MURDER
Today, we focus on what is known about 14-year-old Claire Hobson’s murder. Her body was discovered by two young boys in railway sidings in Horbury just outside Wakefield twenty years ago on 7th March 1982. It is believed she had been raped and strangled two nights earlier, shortly after she went missing on Friday 5th March 1982.
We also understand from our own enquiries that a major new piece of evidence has been uncovered. Its significance is being investigated by West Yorkshire Police.
Strong was back in his office after conducting the morning briefing on the Weaver case. There had been no further progress and, so far, no significant response to the newspaper appeal for witnesses.