by Ted Tayler
“Sexy Lexie,” added Luke. “You might need to close at least one eye when you find her online.”
“Does it have to be Blessing that does the searching, guv?” asked Neil.
“You’ll be far too busy solving my riddle, DS Davis,” said Gus, “plus, we’re off to the country in the morning.”
Gus explained to Lydia and Neil what Alex and Rick uncovered.
“Englishcombe is where your parents live, isn’t it, Blessing?” asked Lydia.
“For the time being,” said Blessing.
“Neil, I’ll just give you and Lydia the headlines from the conversations we had today. You can read the unexpurgated version in the Freeman Files tomorrow. DCI Sinclair mentioned a traveller’s site a few miles out of Westbury. The forensics collected at the murder scene didn’t match with any of their likely lads. Eddie Sinclair still believed the killers were locals, so we need to investigate that site, Could that be the place linking Ivan Kendall to Westbury?”
“We might have to cast our net wider, Neil,” said Luke, “because those men are sure to have moved.”
“DI Williams at Cardiff Central confirmed what we suspected,” said Gus. “Uniformed officers at Pontyclun would not start a finger-tip search of the railway tracks for a husband who had gone walkabout only twelve hours earlier. They knew Sally had left Ivan three times previously, so it’s likely they wrote it off as tit-for-tat. That cost the investigation valuable time. Dai Williams thought Ivan Kendall had sought female company online, which explained his unscheduled trip to Westbury. That was never at the forefront of the investigation this side of the Severn. Today was the first time a Welsh detective threw a liaison with an unknown female into the mix. Luke and I didn’t believe it for a minute; we thought it was a fantasy. However, when we talked to Ieuan Arlett, he dropped a bombshell. The Pontyclun police never approached Ieuan on Sunday, the day Ivan’s disappearance got reported. It was on Wednesday, the day that the Cardiff detectives joined the murder hunt when someone spoke to him. They asked him a simple question. Did Ivan Kendall come here for a drink on Saturday afternoon?”
“Sloppy police work, guv,” said Neil. “Far too general. I would have asked what time did Ivan arrive, how many beers did he have, what time did Ivan leave, who did he speak to, and half a dozen more that I’d have prepared earlier.”
“Sloppy, Neil, yes,” said Gus. “But, even if I’d only asked one question, I would have learned something of value. By adding one word, Ieuan Arlett had to give a truthful reply. As it was, the detective gave him a chance to be evasive.”
“Did Ivan Kendall come for a drink on that Saturday afternoon,” said Luke.
“Wasn’t Ivan Kendall there then, guv,” asked Lydia.
“We don’t know, Lydia,” said Gus. “Ieuan Arlett admitted that Ivan stopped coming during the summer, plus, he reduced the number of visits he made during the rugby season. Now, we don’t believe he was seeing a woman, but we need to check. Luke and I reckon that Ivan found something more interesting than a quiet out-of-season pint in a clubhouse full of kids, gardening club members, and wedding guests. That’s what we hoped you might help us with, Neil. Keep thinking, and bear this in mind. Remember how much money was in Ivan’s pockets when the police recovered the body. Sixty-five pounds. Not much in the grand scheme of things, but Ivan and Sally scraped by, didn’t they? The main cause for her walking out was said to be the constant pressure of balancing the household budget. Ieuan Arlett told us that Ivan wasn’t a big drinker. He had a contract to clean the rugby club’s windows. Ieuan paid him in cash either in the office on Saturday morning or from the till in the afternoon. We can’t ask Sally Kendall yet whether she knew of that arrangement, or how much money per week she thought Ivan collected. Still, it’s plain from Ieuan’s statement that after that summer when Ivan started his new activity, he spent less of his earnings on beer. How large an amount did he gather and what was it for?”
“Perhaps Ivan didn’t gather a large sum, guv,” said Neil. “Was he a gambler? There you are, I might have stumbled on it. He placed bets during the flat racing season to get his family out of a hole. There are more than enough variables in the summer to cope with, and when you add in dodgy weather and fences in the winter, it’s even more of a mug’s game. What if he had gambling debts?”
“That’s a line of enquiry to follow, Neil,” said Gus. “He’d never tell Sally what he was doing.”
“Did you see the screens in the main bar, guv?” asked Luke.
“I missed that, Luke. I was checking those club and society notices on the noticeboard.”
“They had a big screen in the corner of the room,” said Luke. “The club has a multi-screen facility to offer its customers a variety of sports. Ivan didn’t need to leave the club to watch the races on which he’d had a bet.”
“Ivan didn’t have a mobile phone,” said Blessing. “So, if he wanted to place a series of bets, he had to do it at the bookies.”
“True,” said Gus, “but he could have fitted in a visit between cleaning a client’s windows and collecting money owed.”
“Real gamblers don’t bet that way,” said Blessing, “or so I’m told. They want the latest odds, any minor change in the running. Andy Carlton had an account and tinkered with every little variable on his phone before finally committing himself. He was a nightmare when I was on an evening stakeout with him. I asked Andy one night how much he bet each time. He said he set himself a maximum spend per week of twenty quid. Andy bet fifty pence here, a pound there. He didn’t have any other hobbies. I ask you. What a fuss for twenty quid.”
“Ivan Kendall could have bet larger sums, guv,” said Luke, “and kept going higher to recoup the losses.”
“Ivan never had sufficient funds to get himself in that deep, Luke,” said Gus. “As Blessing pointed out, he didn’t have a mobile phone or a credit card. Therefore, he could only spend the cash he had in his pocket. We’re not there yet. Keep thinking, Neil. I know you’ll get the right connection in time. Let’s get stuck into these Freeman Files updates. I won’t get everything finished before the end of the day, but I want as much done as possible while things are still fresh in my mind. I suggest you do the same, Luke.”
“Got it, guv,” said Luke.
At a quarter to five, the phone rang. Gus answered.
“Alex, good to hear from you. I’ve put you on speakerphone for the others to listen. What have you learned today?”
“I’ll keep it brief, guv. I know everyone wants to get home. We’ve seen no movement on the five phones we’re monitoring. Rick identified the policewoman with our mystery man in Bristol back in November 2012. She’s DS Zara Wheeler, holder of the Queen’s Gallantry Medal. Joined the Durham Police after leaving University. Moved south to Bath in 2010 and transferred to Portishead the following year. Wheeler was a rising star, guv, but left in July 2013, months after our image got captured on CCTV. We’ve found an address in Bath where she lived until the end of 2013, but after that, she disappeared. Rick and I scoured social media but found nothing. The only clue we have is that Portishead believed she went into charity work when she quit her job with them.”
“Another charity, or the same one, I wonder,” muttered Gus.
“Portishead didn’t have a clue who DS Wheeler was talking to that day, guv,” said Alex. “He’s not someone from any organisation connected to the police or security service.”
“It begs the question, Alex,” said Gus, “did DS Wheeler know this man? Why on earth would she engage with a total stranger during a Royal visit that had shown signs of turning ugly?”
“Exactly, guv,” said Luke. “you only need to glance at that image to see she’s not challenging him. She trusts him.”
“Anything else, Alex?” asked Gus.
“We now know that Vicki Black, Tasha Black, Billie Brown, and Freya Green were Tanya White’s best friends. Rick has identified other girls of the same age who were friends with the five girls in that What’s App group. The so
cial media accounts for the five girls have gone quiet since we visited Tanya. That’s as far as we’ve got, guv. I’ll continue to monitor the phones and warn you if they move. If everything stays as it is, Rick and I will meet you at London Road at nine in the morning.”
“That’s the plan, Alex,” said Gus. “I’ve not contacted Geoff Mercer yet. Neil’s staying in the office tomorrow with Lydia and Blessing. Luke and I will meet you outside the Hub.”
With that, Gus ended the call.
“What do we do to make that happen,” asked Gus.
“I’ll collect Blessing from the farm in the morning,” said Neil, “Luke can drive direct from Warminster to London Road.”
“It’s only for tomorrow, guv,” said Blessing, “I get my car back tomorrow evening.”
“I’ve finished my updates, guv,” said Neil. “What can I work on in the morning?”
“Follow up on the traveller’s site out at Dilton Marsh. I need names of men staying there at the time of Ivan Kendall’s murder. Then trace where they are today. That should keep you busy. Every spare minute you have, think of that blessed activity which became so important to our victim. Blessing and Lydia can double up on the search for Sally and Lexie Kendall.”
“Will do, guv,” said Neil.
“Okay,” said Gus, “I suggest you get off home. Have a good evening.”
The office emptied, and Gus sat at his desk alone. He’d updated his files for the conversations with Eddie Sinclair and Dai Williams. Another thirty minutes would see the Ieuan Arlett interview finished. As for what Alex told him, that was something to chew over while he relaxed at home.
Gus knew that evenings at home would never be as carefree as they had been in the recent past. Should he call Suzie and tell her he would be late? Had she left London Road already? How would she react if he took work home with him? This living together business was more complicated than one might imagine.
Discretion was the better part of valour, Gus thought. He made a note of the points he had to include in the Arlett file update and closed his computer. As he travelled to the car park in the lift, he considered the issues Alex had passed to him since first thing this morning. Even if it meant lying awake to mull over the potential outcomes tomorrow in the countryside near Bath, it was vital.
Gus drove into the gateway to the bungalow at a quarter to six. He parked the Focus next to Suzie’s Golf and went indoors.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” said Suzie. “Nothing too heavy. I imagine that you’re tired after your trip to Wales. I recommend a quiet night in front of the TV.”
“That sounds perfect,” said Gus. “you read my mind.”
Perhaps I’ll be able to get off to sleep straight away, thought Gus. I can plan for tomorrow while pretending to watch another riveting cookery series.
“What new task did Geoff Mercer set you?” asked Gus.
“He had to rush off for another meeting,” said Suzie. “In the few minutes that he could spare, he referred me to the latest message from the Police and Crime Commissioner. The latest figures show that Wiltshire continues to punch well above its weight for a small, rural force and delivers the best service possible within the funding awarded. Overall, Wiltshire is a safe county, and the latest figures highlight the hard work done to maintain that aspiration.”
“Which are the hot potatoes these days in our game of Whack-A-Mole?” asked Gus.
Suzie gave him a gentle thump on his arm.
“Cheeky monkey,” she said. “Burglary and vehicle crime have dropped considerably in the past twelve months. Despite the positives, there was a twenty-five per cent increase in stalking and harassment. That increase concerned Geoff Mercer. He’s tasked me to respond to the concerns that the PCC and the wider community have about these crimes. We need to get the message out that victims will be heard and must have the confidence to report a crime to us. We have to assure them they will receive support from their very first call - and throughout the criminal justice process - when they do.”
“At last, something worthwhile for you to get your teeth into,” said Gus.
“Talking of which,” said Suzie, “our lamb chops will be ready. Let’s eat.”
CHAPTER 7
Thursday, 12th July 2018
Gus awoke early and was out of bed by seven. Suzie stirred as he left the bedroom but was in no rush to follow suit.
“I’ll get breakfast this morning,” he called out. “It will be on the table by the time you get out of the shower.”
Gus heard the groan but ignored it. He wanted to get to London Road and start the hunt for the red-haired man. Gus reckoned they’d find him near the location of those five mobile phones. It was the only thing that made sense. The look shared between the mystery man and the former detective in Bristol was significant. Gus knew that look.
Once Gus heard the shower running, he dropped four slices of bread into the toaster. His Wiltshire sausages, bacon, and eggs were sizzling in the pan. All was right with the world. At least for now.
“That smells terrific,” said Suzie. “Even though I know it’s not good for me. Or you, come to that.”
“Get stuck in. You can wash up these few things while I take my turn in the shower.”
“It’s very regimental here this morning,” said Suzie. “What happened to the lovely chap that was here last night?”
“Today could be a game-changer,” said Gus. “Every minute that passes and Alex doesn’t call to say those phones are on the move is a step towards me solving the Burnside murder. I can feel it. Who knows? We might uncover something of national significance this morning.”
“That might be a stretch,” said Suzie. “I remember you telling me about the grooming gang and their mysterious disappearance. I can think of several innocent explanations for them not being seen in Swindon since that night. The idea that a secret organisation spirited them away, perhaps disposed of them, and rescued the girls the gang exploited is tough to swallow. Now you want me to believe they treated the girls’ physical and mental ills and found them accommodation and employment into the bargain. Have you any idea how much an enterprise like that would cost? It would be immense. How could anyone undertake that without the world and his wife knowing?”
“I don’t profess to have the answers,” said Gus. “My copper’s nose tells me we’re close to uncovering the truth. That’s good enough for me. I’m only concerned with finding Grant’s killer. How to progress the case through the courts and handle the fallout is for others to decide.”
Gus left the kitchen to shower and get dressed. Suzie tidied away the breakfast things and considered what Gus had said. She still couldn’t see those past events his way.
Suzie hoped Gus wouldn’t be disappointed at the way things panned out later today.
“Are we ready?” asked Gus, standing in the kitchen doorway, suited and booted.
“You look smart,” said Suzie, “and your hair’s starting to grow back. I told you it would.”
“You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?” said Gus. “I thought about what you said while I was in the shower. I know a simple explanation is more likely, but why did someone need to whisk Tanya Norris away within thirty minutes of Alex and Rick leaving? It’s just the latest in a series of occasions when I’ve sensed an unseen hand orchestrating events.”
“Well, if you’re right, and you’re dealing with a sizeable organisation, they might not appreciate someone poking their nose into their business. It could be dangerous, Gus. I don’t want to lose you. You will be careful, won’t you?”
“Of course I will, darling,” said Gus. “I’ve got three capable young men with me. I didn’t think it necessary to ask Rick and Luke to acquire firearms for this morning’s visit because I don’t expect trouble. We’ll follow my usual procedure. I’ll ask a series of questions and only step up the pace if I don’t hear the right answers. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll withdraw. I’ll leave Luke and Rick on the scene to stop anyone doing a runner,
and return with a warrant and armed support. How’s that?”
“A little happier,” said Suzie. “We’d better get moving. I’ll see you tonight. Better still call me at lunchtime, or as soon as you return to the office.”
Gus and Suzie left the bungalow, breathed in the fresh morning air, and got into their separate cars. Suzie was nervous about the day ahead. Gus was eager to reach the countryside on the outskirts of the Roman city of Bath.
Suzie swung the Golf into the car park at the front of the main building at London Road. Gus eased through the yard to reach the Hub building. Rick Chalmers and Alex Hardy stood waiting on the steps outside.
“Luke Sherman is hunting for a parking space, guv,” said Alex. “He won’t be a minute.”
“We’ll take my car, guv,” said Rick. “No disrespect.”
“Fair enough. Any change on the phones, Alex?” asked Gus.
“All quiet on the western front, guv,”
“Divya, our techie friend, found another sighting of Vincent and Dexter, guv,” said Rick as the three men transferred to Rick’s car.
“Where and when was this?” asked Gus.
“I can only show you the image on my phone, guv,” said Rick. “But it’s them, in a van with Dexter driving. Vincent’s in the passenger seat. Based on the direction they’re travelling we think they were on their way to their house in Shrivenham. This image comes from the afternoon of Sunday, the twenty-second of July 2013.”
“Vincent looks uncomfortable,” said Gus. “Or is that me?”
“No idea, guv,” said Alex, “but that’s the total of what we’ve found for them. As with several others connected to this case, they dropped out of circulation altogether soon after.”
“Don’t let anyone tell you there’s a shortage of coppers on the beat,” said Luke Sherman, arriving at a trot. “It’s a devil of a job finding a parking spot in this place.”