“Had to ask,” Andy said. “I’ll arrange for the car to be removed.”
“What about the body?” said Grimms.
“That stays where it is. I’ve called for the pathologist to come and determine the time and cause of death. Where’s the driver?” Andy replied.
“Gone,” said Grimms.
“Got a description?”
“White, male, and about thirty-five. He’s small in stature and lightly built. Clean shaven. Black hair, cut short. Well dressed, with dark trousers, jacket and overcoat. Business type. We have only one witness that saw him and gave the description. We’ve been looking for him, but not found him yet. I’ve circulated his description and we have a thirty-mile perimeter set up. It’s been two hours since we found the body,” said Grimms.
“I think that we have to widen the search, don’t you?” said Andy.
“Yes. I’ll move it another forty miles further out,” said Grimms.
“O.K., let’s see what the doc has to say about the boy,” said Andy.
The pathologist reported that the child had been dead for about six to ten hours. He would be able to give a definitive time and make a full report when he had made a full examination of the body. Later that day the low loader with the BMW and body arrived with its police escort at the forensic labs at Thorpe Arch. It was several days before the forensic report was ready from the lab. Andy stared at the neatly typed two pages of A4 paper. The car had been examined with a fine toothcomb. A hair had been found on the driver’s headrest and a set of keys had jammed in the ignition as a result of the accident, but otherwise the car was clean. Not for the first time Andy felt a deep frustration with the case.
He had hoped for a lot more. He opened the file on his computer containing the pathologist report on the child. At least this was more informative. The child had been drugged and drowned. The injuries to his body from the sexual abuse were horrific and had been carried out over a prolonged period of time. The drugs used were a mixture, but heroin had been found in significant quantities. That was of interest, but the pathologist had made an even more interesting comment on the nature of the other drugs used, especially one particular drug. Whoever the person was who had provided the drugs, they had a profound knowledge of drugs, but what was more interesting; they must have had access to some very unusual compounds. Men like that were rare and so the search could be narrowed.
The most important piece of evidence was the DNA provided by the one hair they had taken from the car. Could the DNA provide them with a name of someone with a criminal record? Were they in the police computer? If they found the driver and it fitted with the description the witness had given, it would condemn the man to a long prison sentence when they caught him. At last he had a clear lead and solid evidence. He had someone to track down, someone to hunt. Now how quickly would the case develop? How long before they caught the rat? Soon, it must to be soon, for the sake of the children. No pressure then, thought Andy sarcastically.
The DNA proved to be useless. It was not on file or in the police computer. He looked at the plastic evidence bag on his desk and opened it. He turned out the car keys that had been removed from the car onto his desk. He picked them up and examined them carefully. There was a plastic fop that controlled the immobiliser; the ignition key and then one more key. Made of brass or bronze perhaps? he thought, together with a Yale key with the number 793 on it. He turned to his computer and googled Yale UK. An address flashed up on the screen. He pressed the print bottom. He picked up the phone and dialled the contact number. He talked with Yale for twenty minutes and put the phone down.
“Singh!” he shouted through the opened office door.
Singh appeared in his office doorway.
“Sir?”
Andy had taken the key off the key ring.
“Take this key to Yale in Birmingham. Do not let it out of your sight and as soon as they have examined it, get back to me a.s.a.p. Got it?”
“Yes sir.”
“Get on then, go,” said Andy.
From the balcony of his penthouse flat, Andy was watching a canal boat making its leisurely way through the centre of Leeds along the Leeds/Liverpool canal. He watched the ripples from the bow wave fan out and lap against the canal walls. The faint chug, chug, of the diesel engine reached his ears. He slowly sipped his chilled gin and tonic. He took in the man at the stern of the boat leaning on the tiller. For a moment he had a deep feeling of deep envy. How nice it must be to be on a canal boat without a care in the world; peacefully moving through Leeds on the canal and on into the countryside. The faint smell of grilled steak came through the balcony doors from the fully fitted, ‘state of the art’ kitchen. Cathy stood between the sliding doors to the balcony.
“It’s ready,” she said, leaning against the door frame.
She smiled as she spoke. She was wearing those tight blue jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection. The jeans were topped by a light blue sweatshirt and she had no bra. The sweatshirt was pushed forward by two perfectly formed thirty-six-inched breasts. And he could see the nipples in the centre of each breast pushing up the cloth a little further. He wanted to grab her. Strip her and have her. But he would wait. He would saviour the well prepared food and wine. After that, he planned a slow long soak in the hot-tub and then the sex. It would be worth waiting for. Some weeks ago, Cathy had asked him to wait while she went to the bathroom; she had returned to the bedroom in black stockings and suspenders, topped with a black bra. She had removed her bra and pushed him gently onto the pillows and as she mounted him, straddling him with her long legs, her breast had come together as she leaned forward and he saw how large they were. That night had proved memorable. He had enjoyed the best sex of his life. At this point his mobile vibrated in his pocket and cut short his fantasising. He flipped it open.
“Yes?”
“Sorry sir, but you said to contact you straight away,” said Singh.
“Get on with it DC Singh,” he said curtly. His mood completely destroyed by her call.
“The key, sir.”
“Yes, what about it?” he said, with growing irritation in his voice.
“It opens a filing cabinet,” said Singh.
“Well, since we haven’t got a filing cabinet, that’s the end of that. Get back to Leeds, Singh.”
“No, sir.”
“No! What do you mean no?” said Andy angrily.
“No sir, it’s not the end. It’s a very special kind of filing cabinet; made to order by Yale,” said Singh.
“Go on.” He had become intensely interested.
“They were made for a special government order. They had to be fire-proof, with special locks that broke shut if tampered with and of high- grade steel. They were designed to keep documents very, very safe. They are all individually numbered.”
“The key I gave you has the number 793?”
“Yes sir.”
“So there are over seven hundred of these cabinets or more?” said Andy.
“No sir, that’s the good news. Seven is the design number. Ninety-three is the filing cabinet number. They only made a hundred.”
“And the bad news?” said Andy.
“They were all delivered to the Foreign Office. We are going to need special permission and a very good reason to enter the Foreign Office,”
said Singh.
Andy reflected for a moment.
“You’ve done well, Detective Constable. Get all the documentation you can. Designs, invoices and anything else you can get and come back.”
“Arthur will get all I need, sir,” said Singh.
“Arthur?” queried Andy.
“Arthur Springfield, sir. He’s been with Yale for the last forty-five years, a very sweet old man and he has been most helpful,” said Singh.
“Well good old Arthur. Now get back to the station DC Singh and pronto.”
“I’ll be there in the morning sir.”
He closed the mobile and placed it on the arm of a n
earby chair.
“Work?” asked Cathy.
“Yes,” replied Andy, “but not tonight. Now let’s eat. The evening is ours.”
He got up. Put his arm around Cathy’s narrow waste and his other hand under the sweat-shirt. Placing his hand onto the soft, warm skin of her breast and cupped it. He gave the ample breast a gentle squeeze; he felt his desire rise again. She pushed him away gently.
“Later, be patient. We have food getting cold,” she said with a tantalising smile.
They made their way to the kitchen. Sat at the table and they began to eat. After a while Cathy looked-up from her food.
“Andy, do you have any feelings for me?” she asked in a very soft voice.
“Yes, why?” said Andy.
“You’re not a bent copper are you?” asked Cathy.
Andy almost choked on his food in astonishment. Then the anger rose inside him.
“You think that…!” he exclaimed with sudden anger and standing up and pushing his food away. Andy could not finish the sentence; he remained in a stunned and angry silence. She saw the hurt in his face and heard it in his voice. She sat in shocked silence. She had not realised that her words would have such a devastating effect. Finally she said in a soft voice,
“I’m getting in deep with you and I’m a single mum and you’ve got all this and you can’t afford this on your pay. I’m scared that, that you’re one of them!”
She was flushed and flustered after her outburst. She was close to tears. Andy stood stone-faced and angry. Then very slowly, a small smile appeared at the edge of his mouth.
“You poor cow,” he said. “I made a killing on my flat in London when I sold it, Cathy, and what’s more, I inherited some money from my father. He was a doctor and rich. That’s why I can afford this property. I paid cash for it. I’ve no mortgage and I don’t owe anything to anybody. In fact I don’t have to work. If I just cut down on things and sold this, I could live on the interest from the money on the sale and a part-time job. That’s one of the reasons Padwick brought me in. I can’t be bought.”
He sat back in his chair. Cathy looked ashen-faced. “I’m a fool,” she said in a small voice.
“No, you’re a young mother who has to be careful. You’re the boss’s private assistant and confidant I suspect.”
He looked at her with kind eyes, all the anger gone.
“Come on, let’s finish this delicious meal you’ve made and just enjoy our evening. God knows when we will get another one to ourselves,” he said.
She looked at him. “Let’s,” she said and smiled, “just one more thing. Is this job getting you down?”
“No, but every time I think I’ve cracked it, the investigation goes dead. It’s one of the most frustrating cases I’ve ever had. What’s more there is more urgency attached to this case than the others I’ve worked on. Kids are dying, Cathy. I’ve got to stop him.”
“You will,” Cathy said with a smile. Then she added. “You know that Maguire hates you?”
“I know.”
“Be careful, he has dangerous friends.”
“Padwick is keeping him flush with money; which he is passing to Maguire from the informant fund,” said Andy.
“You know about that?” she said.
“Yep, it’s a trap to catch a bent copper. Every time he pays someone off he has to account for money and who he has given it to and how much he has paid them. We are building a nice list of names all linked to Maguire. It’s producing all sorts of leads. Now eat and no more talk about work,” said Andy with a wicked smile.
Chapter 13
The invoice that DC Singh had returned with showed that the filing cabinets had been delivered to the Home Office in September 1978. Andy had just spent two hours on the phone to the Foreign Office trying to trace their whereabouts and had discovered that they had all been sold at an auction some twenty years ago after a refurnishing program. He had obtained the name of the auctioneers. They were a South London firm. He phoned them with a sinking heart.
“Thomson and Sons, Jacob Morrison speaking. How can we help you?”
“DI Rawlings, West Yorkshire police. In 1998 you auctioned for the Foreign Office one hundred filing cabinets made by Yale. We would like to know who bought them.”
“What all of them?” said Jacob.
“Yes,” said Andy.
“This could take some time. Would you like me to phone you back or can you hold the line?”
“I’ll hold,” said Andy.
Some ten minutes later the voice returned.
“Officer?”
“Yes I’m still here.”
“The cabinets were bought as a job lot by a firm of second-hand office furniture dealers.”
“Have you got a name and address for them, Mr Morrison,” said Andy.
“Yes, Dawson’s Office Supplies in Wakefield, West Yorkshire.”
Andy could not believe his luck. “Could you fax the bill of sale to me please?”
“Straight away, sir no problem,” said Jacob.
“Thank you.” Andy felt elated. This enquiry was gathering pace.
DS Newton and DC Singh were despatched to Dawson’s in Wakefield. There they found that the cabinets had been sold, over the years in small numbers. Some could be traced to their new owners, since the firm had delivered them, but several had been sold for cash and taken the same day. No invoice or delivery note, just a record of the sale. The officers asked for a description of the buyers but since the sales had been years since, they could not recall them. The men at Dawson’s would like to have helped, but could not. However, Newton tried a different tactic and described the BMW driver to them. One of the porters at Dawson’s recollected the man because he had helped him load the cabinet into his van. It had been a Salford Hire Van from Manchester. Newton contacted Salford Van Hire, Manchester.
“We have a description and information of a man that could have hired a van from you somewhere in Manchester, five years ago. We need to find him quickly and discretely,” said Newton to the receptionist at Salford Van Hire over the phone.
“That’s a tall order. Can you offer me anything more concrete than just a description?” said the girl on the phone.
“I can give you some of the possible dates, when he hired the van and a detailed description of the man. I’ll e-mail everything we have to you.”
“OK, leave it with me. I take it this is urgent?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll try my best to find this man, but it’s a very tall order.”
Several hours later the girl phoned. She could not find anything on their system.
“Another dead end,” Newton said to Andy. “This inquiry is getting the team down. Every time we think we’re on to something the whole thing does dead.”
“I feel the same way,” said Andy, “but we have to keep the lads morale up and we will get Lemmings. There’s no option. He has to be stopped.”
When the break came, the despair and frustration the team had been feeling fell away and completely disappeared. Out of the blue Arthur from Yale phoned Andy.
“We have received a call from Manchester to repair one of them cabinets that you were looking for. They tried to force it open and they broke the lock. Shut tight it is. They are designed to be tamper proof.”
“Please tell me you haven’t fixed it,” Andy said with unease.
“Thought I’d ring you first before I rang them back to make an appointment for our locksmith to visit and change the lock,” Arthur replied.
“Good man, Arthur. Have you got an address and phone number?”
“Yes sir.”
“Give me the address and phone,” said Andy.
For the first time he felt they had a real break. Andy quickly wrote the address and passed it on to his team.
“Right Arthur, don’t ring them back for an hour, can you do that?”
“No problem,” said Arthur.
“When you talk to them, get a contact name and make an appointm
ent for your locksmith to visit in a couple of days’ time. When you’ve done that ring us,” said Andy.
“Fine, I’ll do that.”
“One thing more, Arthur, am I right in thinking that only your firm can do the job?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks, ring back when you have the appointment confirmed.”
As he put the phone down DC Singh walked into his office.
“The address he gave you belongs to a company called Murdock’s Antiques. Owner: one Callum Murphy. No criminal record. Shall I ask our colleagues in Manchester if he’s known to them?”
“Do that and ask them about any known associates as well. Ask them to be discrete. I don’t want him spooked,” said Andy.
Singh came back ten minutes later.
“Not known to Manchester, sir, but I did find out more about his business. He runs a small second-hand furniture business. Just him and two other employees. Both clean. I have put full details on our system. What do you want me to do now sir?”
“Nothing. Keep our men well away from him. I want to look his place over in the morning. Get me a man with local knowledge to assist me from Manchester and inform them I’m coming,” said Andy.
“Yes, sir. What time do you want to get there?” asked Singh.
“Tell Manchester I’ll be there at ten,” replied Andy.
Andy opened his e-mail and the report. He called Frank Newton into his office.
“There’s a report from Manchester on the man we’re looking for. I want you to put one of our officers onto it and see what he can dig up. Tell him to look hard. Manchester have found nothing on him, but I want to make sure. You and I will be going to Manchester in the morning. I want the search done before then.”
The unmarked police car eased down the Wakefield slip road into the main M62 traffic. Changed lanes rapidly and accelerated down the outside lane of the motorway. Newton was driving with Andy in the passage seat. He was engrossed in the report on his lap. An hour and a half after reaching Manchester, he was in deep conversation with DSI Robson. They decided that the suspect was too important to delay bringing into custody. There would be no prolonged surveillance. He would be picked up at the earliest opportunity. All that remained was to make sure he was at work and then arrest him. They decided to place plain clothes officers near his place of work in an unmarked car. Andy would then phone him and ask for him. If he was there they would send in the officers and arrest him immediately. Andy would make the phone call as soon as the officers were in place. Robson order coffee to be brought to his office as they waited for the call that the officers had reached Murphy’s place. An hour later they were there and Andy made the call. Shortly afterwards, Robson, gave the order for the arrest to be made.
The Child Predators Page 7