The DI Rosalind Kray Series: books 1-3

by Rob Ashman

  Quade paused. ‘How would you propose tackling the overlap between the cases? I mean, who would have had access to the court findings and sentencing?’

  ‘That’s our first problem, ma’am.’ Kray laid out a buff coloured file on the desk. ‘The Cadwell and Hicks trial verdicts were in the public domain.’ She removed two clippings from the local rag. ‘They also made the local news at the time. Anyone could have seen them. We need to run through the evidence trail again and cross reference anything that could be common. The second action is to run a data trawl on all the trial cases that have resulted in a suspended sentence in the last three years. Especially those involving Bernard Preston. Then identify the ones that have the same characteristics as the Cadwell and Hicks cases.’

  ‘Okay, but I want to be kept in the loop. If they are connected, I want us to be seen to have joined the dots up early,’ said Quade.

  Isn’t that what I just did? Kray kept her lips sealed.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ they said in unison and rose from the table.

  ‘Oh and one more thing,’ Quade said as they headed to the door. ‘I want you two to play nicely, is that understood?’

  They both nodded.

  Kray and Bagley walked two abreast down the stair well.

  ‘You told her about our chat yesterday?’ Kray said through clenched teeth.

  ‘She asked how it was going.’ Bagley had not expected his mate, the ACC, to drop him in it. ‘I didn’t know you had a cat?’ he asked trying to keep it light.

  ‘I don’t.’

  The rest of the walk was in silence. When they approached the incident room Kray turned to Bagley. ‘I’ll get the guys together and both of us can run through what we have.’

  ‘Good idea, shall we say, thirty minutes?’

  ‘Yes that’s good. Oh and Dan the next time Quade asks you how it’s going, you can tell her I’ve applied for the job in CJU.’

  Chapter 24

  The incident room was buzzing, not since the Palmer case had Kray seen so many eager faces waiting to be briefed. Bagley stood out front, explaining how the investigation was to be structured.

  ‘I will be handling the Hicks case while DI Kray will be leading the Cadwell investigation.’ Bagley was being very presidential. ‘Now the reason we have you all together is there is a slim chance these cases are linked, so at this point I will hand over to Roz who will give you a heads up on her theory.’

  Slim chance? You patronising twat.

  ‘Thank you, Dan. I have provided each of you with a summary of the criminal records of Hicks and Cadwell. I think you will agree it makes toe-curling reading. I have also made note of the sentences that were handed down when they last appeared in court. I think you will agree that is equally toe-curling.’ There was a general murmuring of agreement along with a few people uttering, ‘Five hundred and forty!’

  ‘In addition to working both cases, we will also be pursuing the theory that the killings are linked by them both receiving suspended sentences. Plus, in each case, the manner of their death could also be construed as a vengeance killing. Both cases were widely reported in the press and on the local news, so they would have been well known. We could be looking for a vigilante.’ This word galvanised more chatter and knowing glances.

  ‘I have to stress …’ Bagley was on his feet. ‘At this stage it is a working theory and nothing more. We investigate each case separately until such time as a positive connection is uncovered, or not. In other words, stick to your own case and don’t be diverted.’

  A small guy wearing a crumpled suit shot his hand up. His name was Mark. ‘Roz, have you drawn up a list of other convicted criminals who have been given suspended sentences?’

  ‘I have and they are pinned to the whiteboard. I went back three years and discarded the petty offences, which left us with ten possible candidates.’

  ‘What criteria did you use to weed out the non-runners?’ Mark asked.

  ‘I’m not sure I would go so far as to call it a criteria, Mark. I asked myself the question: If I were the victim of this crime, on a scale of zero to ten, how pissed off would I be? The ones on the board all scored a nine or ten. We need to make contact with these people as a priority, to see if they’ve noticed anything strange in the past few weeks. So, if you do know any of them, let us know.’

  A ripple of conversation ran around the room, Mark seemed satisfied with the answer.

  ‘Are there any that score an eleven?’ asked a woman scribbling on her notepad.

  ‘One, I have no doubt you’ll spot it a mile off,’ said Kray.

  Bagley was fidgeting on the spot, watching the team’s reaction. ‘Let me stress again, I want people to focus on the case they have been given. Roz and I will look for the crossover.’

  The meeting broke up and everyone made a beeline for the board, Bagley was looking less than impressed. He sidled up to Kray.

  ‘I don’t want folk getting sidetracked looking for connections when they should be concentrating on what’s in front of them.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Have you lined up another crack at the Stapletons?’

  ‘I have,’ she lied, ‘well worth another go, I reckon. What’s your first move?’

  ‘The letting agency. If the killer was lying in wait for Hicks he might have viewed the flat as part of his preparations.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Kray said, knowing full well it was, because she had given him that idea an hour earlier. ‘Nice one.’

  The next fifteen minutes were spent answering questions and giving everyone their tasking for the day. Within twenty minutes the incident room was empty.

  Kray was in her car, riding solo. She was travelling without her trusted sidekick, Tavener, because Bagley had nabbed him to work on his case. It felt good to be out from under Bagley’s critical eye. She passed the turn-off for the Woodland View estate and headed out of town towards the zoo. It was easier to tell Bagley what he wanted to hear regarding the Stapletons rather than argue the toss that he was barking up the wrong tree. She passed the large bay fronted properties and turned into a less salubrious street, with semi-detached houses and rubbish in the front gardens.

  When she parked up she hit two buttons on her phone. The inside of her car reverberated with the ring tone.

  ‘Hey this is a nice surprise. Hang on one second …’ It was Dr Ding-dong; the sound of footsteps and a door closing echoed through the speakers. ‘That’s better I can talk now. How are you?’

  ‘Having a mare of a day but then, what’s new? How about you?’

  ‘Not having such a good day myself.’

  ‘Why, have you lost a body?’

  ‘No nothing so trivial. I text a woman asking if she would like to join me at my place tonight and I would cook dinner. She hasn’t replied, what do you think of that?’

  ‘She must be a right cow.’ Kray smiled. ‘If I were you I would steer well clear of that one.’

  ‘I think you might be right.’

  ‘About steering well clear?’

  ‘No about her being a cow.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘I called, Dr Millican, to inform you I will not be paying you a visit regarding the body of William Hicks. For that, you will have the pleasure of DCI Dan Bagley. He may wish to attend or he may simply read your report.’

  ‘Is that the newly appointed DCI?’

  ‘The very same, see … you were listening.’

  ‘Okay then I will expect his call.’ Millican paused. ‘Perhaps he might like to have his dinner cooked for him tonight?’

  ‘I doubt it, he looks more of a takeaway man to me.’

  ‘Shame, I guess I’ll have a pig-out on a dinner for two.’

  ‘I’ll be there around seven-thirty.’ She hung up smiling.

  Kray looked up and down the street trying to locate the house. It wasn’t difficult. It stood out from the rest with its fresh coat of paint and new windows. This was the abode of Catherine Stubbs. She had moved into the
ground floor flat five months ago. The tenant manager had said she could normally be found at home in the daytime but not on alternate Wednesdays when she tended to be out all day.

  Chapter 25

  It was the day I carried my friend and made a vow.

  We lifted the coffin high in the air and then down again. It felt like I was carrying the weight of the Brotherhood on my shoulder. All six of us adjusted our position to even out the balance. All of us were roughly the same height apart from Becket, who supported the casket on his upturned palm resting on his shoulder. We would take the piss out of him for that afterwards.

  The vicar arranged the procession and gave a nod to the woman at the organ. She slipped effortlessly into Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, and the music drifted up to greet us as we walked into the church.

  As we shuffled onto the red carpet I mused that friendship between men is an odd affair. It’s a friendship where you can remember every joke your friend ever told, but not know that his wife left him a month ago. I had no idea Jono was religious.

  The church was packed with members of the congregation, family, friends and soldiers from the unit. The vicar led the cortege, his bible in his hands, followed by Francine, Jono’s wife, supported by his brother, Sam. He was the spitting image of Jono, which must have broken her heart every time she clapped eyes on him. Her arm was linked through his, as much for physical support as emotional.

  A blood red carpet ran the length of the church to the altar. At the end I could see his children, sat with their heads bowed with an older woman, presumably the grandmother. They were ten and eight. It was a heart-rendering sight. Just when they had come to accept that Daddy had returned from war, and there was only half as much of him to love, they were now staring at the stone floor not wanting to see what was approaching from behind.

  Jono had spent a lengthy period in hospital when he got back. There were times when it was touch and go, but he pulled through and was getting himself fitted with prosthetic legs.

  ‘Look out, Robocop, cos here I come,’ he would shout making the kids laugh.

  I visited him a number of times, it was great to hear the old stories and remember those who hadn’t been so lucky.

  He once asked me, ‘Did you really find my leg and put it in the chopper when we flew to Bastion?’

  ‘Yeah, I did.’

  ‘What the fuck did you expect them to do with it? Sew it back on?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I can recall is thinking it was the most important thing in the world. I had to find your leg.’

  ‘Well it looks like they must have mislaid it along the way.’ He waved his stump in my direction. ‘It’s a right bastard when someone mislays your leg.’

  A short while after that he snagged his stump on a shard of metal protruding from his wheelchair and the wound got infected. As a precautionary measure he was admitted to hospital where they could administer industrial strength antibiotics. After a few days he contracted MRSA and deteriorated fast. An outbreak of clostridium difficile on the ward was too much for his weakened body to take. He died three weeks later. Even though he was in an isolation room the bug crept under the door and took him. I had received a call from his wife and arrived at his bedside ten minutes before his life drained away. Some precautionary measure that tuned out to be, admitting him to hospital.

  We shuffled along between the rows of seated people and I could feel my cheek was weeping, the change in air temperature had set it off. I couldn’t risk mopping it with a tissue so it had to run down my face. We lowered the coffin, slid it onto the trolley draped in red velvet and I took my seat next to Julie. She leaned into me, linking her arm through mine. The order of service was in the back of the seat in front of me, Jono’s face beaming out of the front cover.

  Every joke he ever told me flashed before me.

  ‘I never knew you were religious,’ I muttered.

  ‘What’s that?’ Julie said.

  ‘Oh nothing.’ I turned my head and smiled a weak kind of smile at her.

  The funeral was mercifully short. I constantly dabbed the weeping puss from my cheek while the vicar guided us through the order of service. Jono’s brother gave a speech that had the whole place reaching for their hankies.

  I could hear Jono’s voice chirping in my ear. ‘There, everyone’s doing the handkerchief thing now. You don’t look so much of a wanker mopping your cheek!’ It’s exactly what he would have said.

  At the end we filed past the family. I found it hard to look at his two sons, standing to attention, being brave for their mum. I hugged Francine. Her face was damp.

  ‘Thank you, Alex, I know Jono would have wanted you to be with him.’

  ‘I’ll always be with him, Francine.’

  I squeezed her hands in mine and moved along the line. The eldest boy stuck out his hand, I shook it and placed my other hand on his brother’s shoulder, leaning forward.

  ‘Take care of your mum.’

  ‘We will,’ the elder lad said, his face was red.

  I could take no more and bustled through the gaggle of people out into the courtyard, leaving Julie behind. I walked around with my hands thrust in my pockets trying to keep the tears at bay.

  The hefty figure of Ben Pinner blocked my path. He had been our commanding officer during our last deployment, his broad shoulders and barrel-body made his head appear two sizes too small. He was a popular guy who looked after his men. I had always known him as Pinball. A nickname that ticked the boxes in so many ways.

  ‘He will be missed.’

  ‘Yes, sir, he will. He was a good friend,’ I replied.

  ‘When are you going to stop fucking about and come join me?’ Pinball said, gripping my hand and pulling me in close. ‘We are growing fast and need people like you.’

  I smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘Good to see you again, sir, shame the circumstances are shit.’

  ‘How have you been?’ He gestured to his cheek.

  ‘It’s on the mend.’

  ‘Don’t forget, when you want some of this?’ He ran his hand down the lapel of his expensive suit. ‘You only have to give me the nod.’

  ‘It’s not for me but thanks anyway.’

  ‘Nonsense, of course it is, it’s just a matter of time. Give me a call and you could be anywhere in the world in eighteen hours. Work for me, doing what you do best, and I promise it will set you up for life.’ He smiled and handed me a card. ‘When the time is right, call.’

  Pinball slapped me on the shoulder, moving onto the next person. I drifted around waiting for Julie to appear.

  I will deliver justice, Jono, I promise.

  The phrase echoed in my head. At the time it seemed like the right thing to say, I had no idea what it meant.

  Chapter 26

  I slept like a baby again last night. My dreams were visited by Jono and Donk who both gave me the thumbs up as they floated by. I got to work early as usual but there was nothing of interest in the files. I keep looking even though I have a wall of suitable candidates at the Lakeland Hotel.

  It’s way past lunchtime but the office is still crammed with people. The sharply dressed woman standing at the front has her audience in the palm of her hand. She is surrounded by a garden of helium balloons and flowers, each one showering her with good luck messages and best wishes. There is a buffet lunch prepared, which to be honest looks a little beige.

  ‘… So that’s why I decided after twenty-eight years it was time to give someone else a chance. I’m not leaving immediately, they have asked me to stay on until a replacement has been appointed but I need to go before I become part of the furniture.’ She pauses for the laugh.

  ‘I thought you already were, Brenda,’ replied a woman with red hair. The people gathered around laugh politely.

  ‘My husband and I, oh, I sound like the queen now, don’t I? What I meant to say is Tony and I plan to spend three months …’

  I’m not really bothered how she and her husband plan to spend the next thr
ee months, I keep playing the events of last night over in my mind. The altercation in the pub was a bad idea, but I couldn’t walk away from it. In reality it served as a tasty starter to the main course, and made the day all the more special.

  Brenda is still in full flow. I’ve met her twice before and she seems a pleasant enough woman, well liked by her staff and good at her job. Now there’s a rarity in this place.

  They shouldn’t let her retire, they should have her stuffed instead.

  Despite the feeling of elation from last night, my cynicism is alive and well.

  Brenda takes a hankie from inside her sleeve and dabs her eyes. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.’ A warm ripple of ‘Aww’ goes around the large open plan office. I didn’t catch her closing remarks, maybe because I wasn’t listening. The room bursts into rapturous applause which has Brenda dabbing her eyes once more.

  The party breaks up into clusters of people as they track back to their desks. Nodding heads and smiles all around. I go back to mine and sip at a plastic cup of lukewarm coffee. I flick the mouse and the screen bursts into life. Now where was I …

  Ah yes, the complainant was given a three-month jail sentence for possession with intent to supply. My fingers tap away at the keyboard filling in the template. No appeal has been lodged, I check the box.

  I’m aware of someone by the side of me.

  ‘I’m Brenda Tillerson, we’ve met before I believe, Alex isn’t it?’ She has her hand outstretched. I take it, she shakes hands like a bloke.

  ‘You have a good memory with all the people you get to meet.’ I get up from my desk.

  ‘I have a knack for it I suppose.’

  ‘Good luck in your retirement. I enjoyed your speech.’ I lied.

  ‘Thank you. I’ll let you into a little secret, you would not believe how much practice goes into making a speech appear off the cuff.’

  ‘Well you made it sound so natural. The team appreciated it.’