Trentbridge Tales Box Set

by Lee Wood

  The two police officers escorted Sadie back to her cell.

  After all these years, it seemed like the police were finally getting somewhere in catching the O’Connor family.

  Chapter Forty-One

  THE FULL STORY

  Roger Maynard wasn’t sure what he should do. Should he report Tyson’s drowning or not?

  If he did and was arrested, would Kevin O’Connor be able to get to him? Roger wasn’t clued up on these things but he’d heard about prisoners on remand being found dead in their cells. He recalled seeing a programme on TV recently where a prisoner had been found hanged in his cell and they proved there was no way he could have done it himself.

  For now, Roger had put Tyson’s body into the large commercial freezers that had been installed for the restaurant that formed part of the centre. He had also emptied the swimming pool so that no one else would fall in.

  He had to decide his next move. He was about to phone the police and report Tyson’s death when his phone rang.

  “Hello, son. There’s been an incident at the motel. Some woman, I think she was the wife of that thug who kidnapped your mother and me, she came here and tried to kill Francis and me.”

  “Are you both alright?”

  “Yes. The man who runs the hotel jumped in the way and got shot in the shoulder. Otherwise, I think Francis would be dead. He’s in hospital, but they say he’ll be alright. The police caught the woman and her son who she accidentally shot.”

  “What was Francis doing there?”

  “I called her because I was worried about you. With your mum gone, Francis is the only family I’ve got, apart from you, so after everything that happened I asked her over for a chat.”

  “Okay, look. Stay there and I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  Twenty-five minutes later, Roger arrived at the Milton Motel. He could see the area the police had cordoned off where the shooting had taken place. It was covered with men in white suits on their hands and knees searching every inch of the floor.

  At the entrance was what looked like a temporary sign saying ‘coffee lounge’ and an arrow pointing to the side of the hotel where Roger knew the old one had been situated.

  He walked in and saw his father and ex-wife sitting at one of the rear tables. “Are you both alright?”

  “Yes, we’re fine. I expect the shock will kick in later but thanks to the bravery of the hotel owner, we’re okay.”

  Over the next few minutes, they went through all the details.

  Then Vernon said, “I think I’m going for a lie-down, son. It’s been a bit exhausting.”

  “Yes, of course, Dad. It’ll give Francis and me a chance to catch up on things.”

  Then it was Roger’s turn to break the bad news. “I witnessed them killing someone. They wanted me dead. That’s why they kidnapped Mum and Dad. They wanted to do an exchange for me. But something happened and Mum got killed.”

  “Oh my God. No!” Francis grabbed his hand. “This can’t be happening. Haven’t these people done enough to us? What sort of animals are they.”

  Roger waited while Francis composed herself. Then went on.

  “Dad hasn’t told me the full story yet. I expect he’s still dealing with the shock. I was sure they’d try to kill us all and as it turned out I was right. But luckily Dad and I managed to get away. I was holding one of their sons as a hostage to bargain with. But something happened. I had him at the equestrian centre I bought for Julie. When I was moving him, he knocked me out and escaped, but he fell into the horses’ swimming pool and drowned.”

  “What have the police said?”

  “That’s the problem. I haven’t reported it yet.”

  “You have to.”

  “I know, but I need to work out a few things first. You’ve just witnessed what these people are capable of. They kidnapped my parents, killed Mum, and they were going to kill Dad and me. If I’m in prison, who’s going to protect you and Dad? That’s my concern. I’m not bothered what they do with me. I just need a bit of time to figure things out.”

  “I know you, Roger. You’re the most decent man I have ever met, but you need to involve the police in this.”

  “I will. I just need a little time.”

  Roger walked out of the coffee lounge and round to his car. Deep in thought he paid no attention to the tatty dark blue Vauxhall Corsa that had been sitting in the car park for the past two hours.

  Vinny Watkins had already been on the phone to Kevin O’Connor. It was his third phone call to the man he called boss. “Kevin, I’m still at the Milton Motel. That Roger bloke turned up a while ago. Looks like he’s leaving. What do you want me to do?”

  “Follow the bastard. Don’t fucking lose him. I want to know where he goes.”

  “You can count on me, Kevin. You know you can.”

  Twenty minutes later, Vinny watched as Roger got out of the VW and unlocked the metal gates to the Equestrian Centre and drove the vehicle through and then got out and re-locked the gates.

  “Hello, Kevin. I followed him to a place called JM Equestrian Centre. It’s on Shelford Road on the other side of Trumpington.”

  “Good work, Vinny. If he’s just gone in there, he probably won’t come out for a while. Go and stock up with food and drink then go back and watch that place like a hawk. I want to know everything he does. If he leaves, follow him. I want that bastard, Vinny. Don’t you let me down. You hear me?”

  “Got it. Kevin. If I have to stay all night, I’ve got a blanket in the boot. I’ll keep you updated. How are you, boss? What do the doctors say?”

  “My leg’s broken. They say it will take six to eight weeks, but I’ll be able to walk with crutches.”

  “As soon as he moves, I’ll let you know, boss.”

  “Good lad, Vinny.”

  Quentin Reeves had been the head surgeon at Trentbridge Hospital for the past four years. He was a skilled doctor who always stayed calm under pressure and did his best. However, the young man who had been brought in with a gunshot wound to the stomach was giving him cause for concern. Lennox O’Connor had been taken to the operating theatre straight from the ambulance.

  The doctor had assessed his injury.

  “How is he, Doctor?” asked the police officer sent to guard Lennox.

  “Not good. The bullet entered his stomach on the left side and has sliced through his portal triad, that’s the arteries and veins that supply the liver. It’s not going to be easy. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to attend to him.”

  After nearly four hours of surgery and fifty units of blood later, the young man was still bleeding and things were not looking good. Doctor Reeves had done everything he could and was getting more concerned by the minute.

  At Trentbridge police station, the initial interview with Sadie O’Connor had ended, and Sadie had been returned to her cell, when Tracy Archer’s phone rang.

  “What? You’re sure. No, that’s okay. I’ll handle it. Leave it with me, and I’ll get back to you.”

  She went over to her colleague DI Eden Gold. “Eden, I just got a phone call from the hospital. Lennox died on the operating table. It seems there were complications. I need to tell Sadie.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “No, I think woman to woman is best. She wouldn’t want to look weak in front of a man.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  TRACY’S FATHER

  Tracy walked down to the cells where Sadie was being held.

  The custody sergeant, Owen Franks, opened the door and let Tracy into the cell, waiting just outside with the door slightly ajar.

  “Sadie. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I’ve just received a message from the hospital. They did their very best but I’m afraid there was a complication, and Lennox died on the operating table.”

  From her training, Tracy knew the best thing was to say nothing. To allow the news to register with the person hearing it.

  “No, you’re lying. This is some sort of trick, right.
First Tyson and now Lennox. No, you bitch, just because of your father and what happened to him you’re trying to wind me up. You just want revenge for your dad. Well, I’m not giving you the satisfaction. I don’t believe you. Not my Lennox. My lovely boy. Lennox is fine. Lennox is fine. He’s alive. Get out. Fucking get out and leave me alone.”

  “What do you mean first Tyson? Has something happened to him we’re not aware of? And what do you know about my father, Sadie?”

  “I know what happened to him. I know everything. But I’m not telling you a fucking thing. Not when you try to trick me with lies about Lennox. And what are you trying to say? You don’t know about that bastard Maynard? He killed Tyson. Drowned him. He’s still got Tyson’s body. I want it back. I want to bury my son. Find his body, and I’ll tell you about your precious father. Until then, fuck off and leave me alone. Go on, fuck off.”

  Tracy walked out of the cell, and the custody sergeant closed the door and locked it.

  “I think she’ll be alright, but best keep an eye on her.”

  Tracy walked back up to the first floor and into the CID offices and over to Eden’s desk.

  “I’ve just told Sadie about Lennox. She said ‘First Tyson and now Lennox’. And she said, ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know about that Maynard bastard’. Do we have any news on something happening to Tyson?”

  “No. Not that I know of.”

  “She also mentioned my father.”

  “Your father. You think the O’Connor’s had something to do with his disappearance? When did he go missing?”

  “Just over eight years.”

  “I guess it’s possible they were involved. I read in the files the O’Connor’s moved to Trentbridge twelve years ago. Do you know if he was investigating them when he disappeared? Do you think there’s a connection?”

  “When it comes to that family nothing would surprise me. We got word this morning that the Irish Garda thinks they are linked to a drugs syndicate. We’ve suspected they are involved with drugs, but we’ve never been able to find how they’re bringing the goods in. I know the drugs squad spent two months watching every vehicle journey they made and never found a thing.”

  “With Sadie under arrest, when are you planning to search the house?”

  “Not until a couple of days after Lennox’s funeral. To go in now would cause a riot. We’d have every traveller with fifty miles descend on us. Tough as it is to wait, we need to show some respect. But we can make a visit to see Kevin.”

  The following day, Eden and Tracy drove to the O’Connor residence.

  Across from the main house, they saw a bonfire.

  “What’s that for, burning evidence?” asked Tracy.

  “No. It’s for Lennox. A bonfire at the home when someone dies, it’s a traveller tradition. Lennox’s coffin must already be in the house.”

  Tracy knocked at the front door. She waited then knocked again.

  “Fucking hang on. I’m coming.”

  The door opened, and the two detectives were surprised to see Kevin on crutches with his leg in plaster.

  “I suppose you’ve come to gloat.”

  “You know us better than that, Kevin. We may not see eye to eye, but we have never treated you with anything other than respect and fairness. Now may we come in?”

  Kevin turned on his crutches and walked away. “Shut the door and take your shoes off.”

  The two detectives followed him into the living room. As with the other times they had visited, the house was spotless. Not a single thing out of place. The travelling community might have a reputation for fly-tipping and leaving huge piles of rubbish behind after illegally occupying a site but inside their own homes are always pristine. Cleaner than most five-star hotels.

  “What are you here for then?”

  Tracy spoke. “When I gave Sadie the news about Lennox she said ‘First Tyson and now Lennox’. Has something happened to Tyson?”

  “He’s away on a couple of weeks’ holiday with some mates. He’s fine.”

  “So what did she mean when she said she wanted his body back to bury him? She mentioned the name Maynard. I assume she means the gentleman whose daughter was killed in the hit and run.”

  “How the fuck would I know what she’s on about? I expect she got confused, that’s all.”

  “There is one other thing. She said I told her about Lennox because I just wanted revenge for my dad. You know who my dad was, don’t you.”

  “Of course I do. Our paths crossed a few times. He was a fair man.”

  “So what did she mean?”

  “Come back and see me in a couple of weeks and I might be able to tell you a little more. What I can say is that his disappearance had nothing to do with us. Over the years I have heard rumours, but that’s all.”

  “You swear you had nothing to do with it.”

  “I’ll swear on a stack of fucking bibles if you like. I had nothing to do with it. Why would I? He wasn’t investigating me. You need to look closer to home. That’s all I’m saying for now.”

  “Okay, we’ll see ourselves out, Kevin. Our sincere condolences over Lennox. Could we pay our respects to him?”

  “I’m sure he would appreciate that.” Kevin stood up with the aid of his crutches and showed them through to the next room. In the middle was a stand with a beautifully ornate white coffin with silver handles. All around the room were candles burning.

  “When is the funeral?”

  “The day after tomorrow to allow time for family to come across from Ireland.”

  After spending a few minutes, Tracy and Eden said goodbye and left the house.

  As they got into the car Tracy commented.

  “We may not agree with the way they conduct themselves to the outside community, but you have to respect them when it comes to family.”

  “I know what you mean. We’ll have to keep a low profile but we need to be present at the funeral. If Tyson doesn’t attend then something is wrong. There’s no way on earth he would miss it, even if he is in the middle of a holiday. Things don’t add up here and we need to find out what’s going on.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  THE FUNERAL

  Two days later, Trentbridge was brought to a halt when the funeral procession for Lennox as it made its way to St Paul’s Catholic Church.

  Over 100 mourners watched as a white Mercedes hearse carrying the coffin arrived, followed by a fleet of eight white Rolls Royce Phantom cars to give Lennox O’Connor a lavish send-off. A red carpet had been laid from where the hearse stopped all the way to the entrance to the church.

  The white coffin with silver handles and photos of Lennox inside silver frames was carried by eight smartly dressed pallbearers into the church.

  Kevin O’Connor, still using his crutches and escorted by his wife Sadie – who had been granted special permission to attend the funeral by a judge – made their way behind the coffin followed by a large procession of expensively dressed mourners. Members of the family and friends from across the travelling community. Most of the men wore handmade suits some wore black shirts and wraparound sunglasses, while many of the women wore high heels and expensive attire. Rolex watches, flash jewellery and genuine top-brand designer handbags and dresses costing into the thousands were prevalent.

  The outside of the church was festooned with floral tributes and poster-size photos erected on stands left by relatives and friends.

  It was a lavish emotional send-off. And obvious that absolutely no expense had been spared.

  Over sixty police officers had been drafted in to keep control and DI Eden Gold and DS Tracy Archer joined the mourners in their capacity of keeping track of Sadie, but also to see if Tyson made an appearance. She would be allowed to attend the church service and burial but not the wake that would follow.

  According to an article in the Trentbridge Times newspaper, an insider had revealed the flowers alone had cost over £50,000 and the total for the funeral had been ‘just short of half a million poun
ds’.

  It quoted the chief undertaker, who didn’t want to be named but said, ‘I’ve organised quite a few large funerals in my time, but nothing on this scale.’

  The article went on to say that the police had called on pubs and local businesses to warn them to shut early.

  The travellers had planned a celebration of Lennox’s life into the early hours of the morning at a secret location.

  The newspaper also mentioned the large amount of trouble and damage caused at the wake. Four people were arrested but later released without charge.

  A special Facebook page paying tribute to Lennox O’Connor had been set up where over two hundred messages had been posted.

  Following the article, the online edition the newspaper received a large number of comments:

  I don’t think you can blame anyone for disliking gypsies – It’s childish to compare them to any other racial group. They are just criminals who hide behind the law when it suits, hate all the gorgeas [non gypsies, who they consider fair game for criminality and violence], and break the law when it suits them – which is all the time. I expect Mother Teresa would have hated the gypsies and wished a plague on them. If they had lived next door to her they would have nicked her shrubs and pooped in her garden. Not so much a different race of humans – more a different species through persistent interbreeding from a thankfully very small gene pool.

  But of all the comments in the newspaper the one that got the most response was the one that simply said:

  ‘Truly a great loss for the UK.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  THE FARM