DI Giles BoxSet

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “I know you will.” The DCI held the door open. “Make sure you take Dewi with you.”

  Yvonne nodded again, before striding down the corridor.

  5

  Dale Barracks

  The journey to Chester took around two hours. The latter part of the journey felt like a never-ending series of roundabouts. Dewi put music on.

  The DI, deep in thought, had been about to ask him to switch it off but thought better of it. He was cheerful, far more cheerful than she felt. She chose not to spoil his mood.

  Dale Barracks was situated just off Liverpool Road. Dewi swung a left off a small roundabout and between two large signs.

  Dale Barracks lay to the left and Fox Barracks to the right. A large advertisement hung from the railings, promising the learning of new skills while earning money. The DI pursed her lips. Dewi swung a left into the Barracks entrance.

  They waited for guard-duty to come and signal them through. The sign next to the hut read ‘2nd Battalion Royal Welsh’. A row of Land Rovers were parked to their right.

  Dressed in desert-camouflage, military fatigues, the guard finally made his way to them. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, weapon held loosely across him. He took a good look at their ID. Yvonne mused that he couldn’t have been more than eighteen. She wondered, not for the first time, at the huge weight of responsibility these young soldiers had. He appeared confident and efficient, looking them over and examining their vehicle.

  “We’re here to meet with Colonel Forster,” Dewi offered, eventually.

  “I know.” He adjusted his cap. “I’ll call through to the Colonel’s office and let them know you’re here.” He turned his piercing blues eyes on the DI, his face impassive. With a quick nod, he stepped back and allowed them through.

  The DI realised they hadn’t received instruction on where to go. She needn’t have worried, as one of the Colonel’s aides came out to meet them. He signalled where he wished them to park, then walked over to shake their hands as they got out of the car.

  “The Colonel’s office is this way.” He held his hand out in the general direction. “Hope your journey was okay?”

  The DI smiled at him. “It was, thank you. I’m DI Giles and this is DS Hughes.”

  “Staff-Sergeant Jones. Welcome to Dale.” He had already set off. His highly polished boots click-clacked on the tarmac.

  “Thank you.” Broderick Forster stood, as they entered, dismissing his aide with a nod.

  The DI was struck by his height. He had to be at least six-foot-two. She accepted his extended hand with a gentle smile. There was a stillness about him. A quiet intelligence. His handshake was firm but not controlling. Yvonne approved.

  “Please, sit down.” He indicated two chairs abutting his desk, which Yvonne and Dewi duly occupied. He sat quietly observing them as the DI cleared her throat.

  “Do I address you as Colonel or Major-General?” Yvonne asked, cautiously.

  “Brod,” he replied coolly, his gaze level.

  Yvonne looked down at her notes, more out of nervousness than need. “A female soldier from your regiment was found dead near her village home two days ago.”

  “Private Kate Nilsson.” He nodded. “Devastating news for the regiment. She was a very good soldier. Served her country well in Afghanistan.”

  “She was murdered.”

  “Have you any idea by whom?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Not yet.” Yvonne shook her head. “But we have reason to suspect it may have been someone from this regiment.”

  If she had expected surprise, or any reaction at all, she would have been disappointed. His expression remained static. “What makes you say that? She was on home leave, as I understand it?” He cocked his head to one side.

  “All indications suggest she was assassinated by someone of equal or better fitness. A fellow soldier.”

  Forster snorted. “There are fit people outside of the army as well, Inspector Giles.”

  “Ballistics have been examining the bullets. Early indications are that a Nineteen-nineties issue, Serbian pistol was used. A Zastava EZ9 is suspected. I understand your regiment served in Bosnia.”

  “Hang on, you think someone in my regiment smuggled in a pistol from Bosnia, back in the nineties, and used it two days ago to dispatch another of my soldiers?”

  Yvonne sighed, shrugging. “We can’t say when it was smuggled in, but that is one scenario. Yes, sir.”

  The colonel shook his head. “We take weapon smuggling seriously. I doubt-”

  “Are you saying it doesn’t happen?”

  Forster’s eyes strayed to the back of the room. The DI followed his gaze and saw that the aide was back, standing by the door. “Just came to ask if you’d like some tea, sir,” he said, clicking his heals.

  Yvonne was surprised she hadn’t heard him knock.

  The colonel looked from Yvonne to Dewi, who nodded.

  “Yes, we will, Staff-Sergeant Jones, thank you.”

  “There’s something else.” It was Yvonne’s turn to look coolly at Brod Forster. “We believe Kate was conducting an unofficial investigation into irregular deaths at this base. Including alleged suicides.”

  “Alleged?”

  She couldn’t work him out. His face was still passive. Unreadable. She could feel anxiety welling in her chest and suppressed an urge to put a hand on her heart. She had the overwhelming feeling that this man could read her far better than she could him. “Kate felt there was more to the deaths.”

  The colonel sighed. “When people die violent deaths, soldiers included, there are always doubts in the minds of their friends and family. It’s hard for anyone to accept that a loved one could take their own life.”

  “Kate was a fellow soldier.”

  “Private Nilsson was also the dead soldiers’ friend.” He was back to impassive.

  The DI forced her face muscles to relax. “Would it be possible to see her barrack room, please?’

  “Of course.” Forster nodded. “And please, do what you need to do. I’ll see to it that those you need to speak to are available to you. If not now, due to leave, then as soon as possible after Christmas.”

  Yvonne’s eyes widened. This seemed a little easier than she’d expected. “Thank you, Brod.” It felt strange using his first name.

  “One more thing…” He stood up behind his desk. “As there are suspicions regarding members of my regiment, I will notify the military police. Someone will be assigned to work with you. I trust that is okay?”

  Yvonne nodded, secretly hoping that whoever it was, their intention would be to help and not hinder the investigation.

  As she left the colonel’s office accompanied by Dewi, she breathed as though she’d spent an age under water.

  The aide, Staff-Sergeant Jones, accompanied them to the barrack block in which Kate Nilsson’s room was located. He assured them the room had been untouched, aside from the cleaner having vacuumed the day before.

  They were met at the entrance by a tall, forty-something NCO, introduced by Sergeant Jones as Platoon Sergeant Callaghan. The two officers saluted each other, the older man standing to his full height. Yvonne estimated this to be a good foot taller than she was.

  Staff-Sergeant Jones left, presumably to rejoin Colonel Forster.

  Sergeant Callaghan held out an arm indicating the direction he wished them to follow. “Please,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

  His gait was stiff and upright. His boots click-clacked down the corridor. They followed him until he paused outside room eleven.

  He took keys from his pocket. Shrewd, amber eyes gave them the once-over, while he unlocked the door. He stepped back, to allow Dewi to push the door open.

  “I’m sorry.” Dewi grimaced. “I need the men’s room. Can you direct me to the toilets?”

  “Sure.” Callaghan looked as though he was about to verbally direct Dewi but thought better of it. “This way,” he said gruffly, and the two of them continued down the corridor.
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br />   The DI found herself alone in Kate Nilsson’s room. Opposite her was a large window, open a couple of inches at the top. The bed below was neatly made, the duvet a pale lavender. Dark-green, army crates were tucked underneath the bed as extra storage. To her right was shelving, covering almost the whole wall. It contained trophies, photographs, books and a framed certificate.

  A large television stood on the diagonal between the window and the shelving. Behind Kate’s bed were a few more shelves, photographs, folded clothes, and a small, bed-side cabinet.

  It was neat and it was tidy. A feminine touch was provided by a fragrance bottle and jewellery box on top of the cabinet. Little things which were, no doubt, invaluable on those occasional nights out on the town. Yvonne took out her mobile phone and took photographs of the room, rotating her view slowly from left to right.

  She heard a click-clack click-clack approaching down the corridor, stopping right outside the door. She held her breath, expecting someone to enter, her heart racing. Whoever it was continued walking after a second or two. Yvonne exhaled loudly, curious about who had wanted to enter, but not enough to risk them coming back.

  She finished taking photographs as Dewi returned. He peered around the door before coming in. The DI smiled warmly at him, letting out a deep breath.

  “They don’t have much, do they?” he stated, taking a quick look around. “Not much to show for their lives.”

  “I guess they need to travel light.” Yvonne nodded. “A lot of her belongings were at her parents house. There’s some stuff stored in boxes under the bed.”

  Dewi wandered over to the photographs, many of them taken in what appeared to be Afghanistan. One was annotated ‘Bastion’, which Yvonne assumed was Camp Bastion.

  “I’ve taken photos of the layout, Dewi.”

  “Ma’am?” Dewi raised an eyebrow.

  “Kate took a lot of photos of this room, remember?”

  Dewi nodded, but looked puzzled.

  “Repeatedly photographing her own room over weeks, if not months. Like she was expecting something to happen or change.”

  “Or like she was worried something might happen.” Dewi nodded.

  “Exactly.” Yvonne knelt next to the bed and began pulling at the crates. “Like she needed to know if anyone had been in here. If anyone had touched or moved anything. If anyone had been in looking for something.”

  “I wouldn’t do that, ma’am.” Dewi pointed to the boxes. “We’d better obtain permission first.”

  Yvonne paused, then pushed back the crates, standing up to agree with him. “Yes. Yes, you’re right, Dewi.” She was just in time. Sergeant Callaghan was back. He gave a brief knock and entered. “I came to ask you if you have any questions.” His gravelly voice filled the small room.

  The DI put a hand on the cupboard. “We do, actually. Is there somewhere we can go?”

  She was glad of the opportunity to leave. She didn’t want Sergeant Callaghan observing their exploration of Kate’s room.

  Callaghan took them to the NCO’s mess, picking up bottles of sparkling water from the bar, and showing Yvonne and Dewi to large chesterfields at one end of the room. The DI’s eyes were drawn to a graffiti-strewn piece of wall, standing as a showpiece.

  “Part of the Berlin Wall.” Callaghan had returned, handing out drinks from the tray he was carrying.

  “Ah, I see.” Yvonne paused, genuinely impressed. “Wow.”

  “Our regiment was stationed in Germany for some time. That piece was bought back when we were still the Welch Fusiliers. That was before we were combined with the Royal Regiment of Wales.”

  “I see.” Yvonne accepted the drink and took several mouthfuls. She hadn’t realised how thirsty she was. She eyed the Christmas touches around the mess. They were the only souls there, aside from the guy who had come over to open the bar for the few members still at the barracks.

  “I assume most of the men and women are on home leave?’ She spoke her thoughts aloud, resting back on the Chesterfield and taking another sip of the water.

  “We have a few here for guard purposes but, for the most part, everyone is at home. We’ll take our leave when the others return.”

  “What are you guarding?” The DI asked innocently.

  “Well, the barracks, obviously; the regimental silver, the vehicles and the ordnance.” He looked taken aback that she had even asked the question.

  “Sorry.” She blushed. “I’m showing my total lack of knowledge of army life.”

  “No problem.” He grinned at her.

  “What about time out?” It was Dewi’s turn to ask a question. “Do you get out of here for nights on the town?”

  “Yes, we do. We just arrange it between the few of us that are left. It’s no biggie.”

  Yvonne turned her gaze toward the bar, the large glass doors, and the window to the left of it. “Kate Nilsson was killed near her family home in Llydiart. It’s not far from Lake Vernwy. Can I ask if anyone else from the regiment is, or was, on leave in that area of Wales?”

  “Off the top of my head, I don’t know. I’d have to jog my memory with the list of addresses. Would you like me to do that?”

  “Please.”

  “How many soldiers are you in charge of, Sergeant Callaghan?”

  “You can call me Pete, if you want.” Sergeant Callaghan took several swigs of his water. “I’ve got thirty-three under my direct command.” He grimaced. “Well…thirty-two now.” Callaghan stretched his legs out in front of him.

  “When did you last see Kate?”

  “Err, let’s see now, that would have been about the twentieth of December.”

  “And where was that?”

  “The very last time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here. Right here in this bar. A few of us NCOs were in here, as it was the last time we would all be together before Christmas. The beers were going down-range nicely. It was getting pretty rowdy. Kate popped over to the doors to get my attention.”

  “She didn’t come in?”

  “Well, the troops don’t usually come into the officers’ mess. Same as we wouldn’t go into the commissioned officers’ mess.”

  “I see. What did she want?”

  “To remind me that she was off the following morning and to wish us happy Christmas.”

  He was pretty matter-of-fact about it. Maybe too matter-of-fact. Yvonne could see in his eyes that he knew she was analysing him.

  He remained cool. “We will all miss her,” he said, finally. “She was fun, and she was a damned good soldier. She’d come under fire from the ten-dollar Taliban a couple of times in Helmand and handled it better than some of the lads. She was a confident kid.”

  Yvonne took another few sips of her drink. “Did anyone in the regiment have an issue with Kate?”

  “With Kate? No…” He paused, mouth half open. He closed it again without saying anything further. He just shook his head.

  Yvonne leaned forward. “You don’t seem terribly sure.”

  Callaghan shifted in his seat. “She was generally very popular. Though, there was one incident recently.”

  Dewi reopened his notebook and Yvonne’s eyes narrowed.

  “What incident?” The DI held her breath.

  “I saw her arguing with another private. Guy from another platoon.”

  “When was this?”

  “About a week ago.”

  “Who was the other private?”

  “I wasn’t that close to them, and he had his back to me, but I believe it was Billy Rawlins.”

  “What was the nature of the argument?”

  “I don’t know. I saw him backing off and Kate was closing the distance between them. She was quite animated. Billy was pushing her back and waving his arms, as though to say ‘Leave me alone.’”

  “I think we need to speak to Billy Rawlins.” Yvonne pursed her lips. “Is he on home leave?”

  “I would have thought so. His platoon sergeant is still on the base, so I can check i
n with him and find out for you, if you like.”

  “Yes. That would be good. Thank you.”

  Yvonne could tell she had gotten as much as she was going to get from Sergeant Callaghan. As soon as they finished their drinks, she made their excuses and they left.

  6

  DCI and the military police

  It felt like a long and tiring journey home in the dark. Dewi drove whilst Yvonne mulled things over. The approaching car lights fuzzed into a blurry haze. The tears in her eyes, from repeated yawning, didn’t help. It was only five o’clock but it felt like midnight.

  “Penny for them?” Dewi turned his head briefly to her.

  “I’m dying to get my hands on those boxes under Kate’s bed.”

  “If there was anything of interest in them, ma’am, I’ve a feeling it’ll be long gone by now.”

  “If the murderer had access to her room, you may be right. We need to find out who has keys and access.” Yvonne pursed her lips and gazed out the window on her side. “Still, she was a bright girl with an investigative journalist as a father. She was cautious. I’ll bet she found a way to leave clues somewhere in that room. Otherwise, why take all the photos? I think she was using the photos to check whether stuff had been disturbed.”

  “I’m guessing we’ll be going back to Chester again then?” Dewi grinned.

  “More than once, if I have my way.” She gave a knowing smile.

  “Coffee?” Dewi asked, as he swung into the Newtown station carpark.

  “I’d better, or I’ll be asleep at the wheel on the way home.”

  As they climbed the stairs, DC Clayton almost bumped into them. He was running down while putting his coat on to go home. “DCI’s waiting for you, ma’am.” He didn’t wait for her to reply, taking the steps two at a time till the doors clanged shut at the bottom.

  “Great.” Yvonne sighed. “Let’s sneak that coffee in first, Dewi. I’ve got a feeling we’ll need to be awake for this one.”

  “I’m on it.”