Family Ties (The Mark Pemberton Cases Book 1)

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by Nicholas Rhea


  Now that he was in high office, however, with the inevitable strong and historic Anglo-American links, it seemed he wished to appease his English critics, especially those in a governmental or official position, by claiming English ancestry. At one point, he had said that by speaking his mind, he was following the traditional outspoken bluntness of his Yorkshire forefathers. The file added that he was seeking to confirm his Yorkshire links during the forthcoming visit.

  The file went on to say that Hartley’s claim to English roots had been prompted by the discovery of some family letters and also by the fact that his grandfather, Luke Caleb Hartley, had settled in Canada in 1916. Hartley said that Luke Caleb had emigrated from Yorkshire, England. Grandfather Hartley had subsequently moved from Canada to the United States, settling only some 120 miles from his original home which had been at Brockville on the Canadian side of the St Lawrence river. His new base was at Utica, one of several towns of this name in the United States; this Utica was 140 miles north-east of New York.

  A Foreign Office note in the file stated that there was a large family of Hartleys whose origins were on the North York moors. The Vice-President believed these were his ancestors and it seemed he had undertaken some preparatory investigation into his own family history. For example, the file said there were several Hartley family graves in St Monica’s churchyard at Wolversdale, a village deep within the North York moors.

  It was an area once noted for wild wolves, the last wolf in England being supposedly caught here by a Hartley way back in 1693. An existing family of Hartleys lived at Pike Hill Farm, Wolversdale, their eldest member being a Mr George Caleb Hartley; he had been approached, in preparation for the impending visit, by a member of the Embassy staff, but had stressed that his family knew nothing of any relations in America or Canada. They had no knowledge of their eminent and newly discovered distant cousin. The file added that Vice-President Hartley was going to pay a visit to the Wolversdale Hartleys in the hope of establishing a family connection. An appointment had been made via the American Embassy. It was for Tuesday, 12th July, when the Vice-President would meet Mr George Caleb Hartley, who was a retired farmer. As a working farmer, Mr Hartley had occupied Pike Hill Farm; his son, Alan Caleb Hartley, now occupied the house and ran the farm while George lived in a bungalow built on the land.

  Another scheduled visit was to Hull, on Wednesday, 13th July, where it was believed an ancestor had founded the highly successful store which was still known as Hartleys of Hull. Humberside police would be supervising that event.

  The file added that George Hartley had assured the Embassy representative that he would welcome the Vice-President and would do his utmost to provide him with any possible evidence to support his quest — he said, for example, that he would check the names on the family graves in Wolversdale.

  While reading the file, Mark found himself wondering why this American politician was going to so much trouble to establish his English ancestry after being so antagonistic towards some of Britain’s recent overseas policies.

  But the wiles of politicians are not for mere police officers to understand and he decided it was none of his business. Mark told himself that he must not get involved in the politics of this visit. He had one clear and simple duty: the protection of Vice-President Hartley while he was staying at Thirklewood Hall.

  In considering his staffing requirements for twenty-four-hour cover within the house between now and the end of the visit, Mark calculated he would need fifteen personnel. This would allow for a deputy, days off for everyone and all other aspects of a full-time residential duty. It then dawned on him that the team he had regularly used in the Incident Room during murder investigations would be ideal. They worked well as a group, they knew one another, and they could be trusted implicitly. He decided to make a formal request to the Chief Constable for those officers, provided, of course, that no murder investigation occurred.

  In the belief that there was no time like the present, he called in his secretary, Barbara Meadows, and dictated the necessary application for personnel. He told her that she would be required to fulfil her usual role as secretary to the Incident Room and that she’d have to live at Thirklewood Hall.

  Then he signed the application and she promised to forward it immediately to the Chief Constable. Mark told her he was now going to inspect Thirklewood Hall and said that if the application was approved whilst he was away, she must immediately inform the officers concerned and instruct them to stand by for their forthcoming duty on Operation Roots — they’d probably be required from next Monday.

  His first priority was to examine Thirklewood Hall; he must identify all the internal operational problems. He picked up the telephone and dialled the number of Thirklewood Estate, then asked for the estate manager, a Mr Robin Blanchard.

  ‘Blanchard.’ The voice had a distinct Home Counties accent.

  ‘Detective Superintendent Pemberton speaking from Great Halverton police headquarters,’ Mark announced himself. ‘I understand you are my contact for the impending visit of the American Vice-President?’

  ‘I am indeed, and I was expecting a call from you. You will wish to see the Hall?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mark. ‘I was wondering about tomorrow? Say ten thirty?’

  ‘Friday? No problem.’ The fellow sounded most accommodating. ‘Come to the estate office, not the Hall; we’re just inside the main gate on the right. I’ll be there with the coffee warming for you and then we’ll tour the house.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Pemberton.

  ‘I’d better warn you that the place will be in a bit of a mess, we’ll still be clearing up after the departure of the school.’

  ‘That won’t bother me!’ Mark assured him.

  Pemberton was in his own office sharp at nine o’clock the following morning and found a summons from the Chief Constable who wanted to see him straight away. Mark responded, whereupon Moore asked why he had selected the Incident Room team for Operation Roots.

  Mark explained his reasons and added, ‘I’d like them to bring the file on the Muriel Brown murder, sir. They could re-examine that while they’re sitting around in the Hall.’

  ‘Muriel Brown? That was before my time, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It’s an old case, sir; it happened eight or nine years ago. Muriel Brown was murdered in her own car, stabbed to death after being raped. The car, with the body inside, was abandoned on the moors but the killer was never traced. I thought my team could program that case into HOLMES; it happened before we had the benefit of HOLMES and so we might just turn up the murderer.’

  ‘It sounds a good idea, but I want you to relax, you understand? I don’t want you to go chasing after killers, not on this duty commitment.’

  ‘I understand, but I do need to keep my team busy during what will be a very boring assignment, and this unsolved murder is ideal.’

  ‘Well, so long as you let them get on with it at their own pace and don’t start chasing them for results — yes, I agree, Mark. Consider your application approved. Take the full Incident Room equipment with you. You will appreciate, of course, that if there is a new murder investigation to undertake during Operation Roots, those officers and the computer equipment will have to be recalled.’

  ‘Yes, sir, I realise that.’

  ‘So if that happens, how will you protect your American gentleman? You’ll have to recruit a new, inexperienced team at very short notice!’

  ‘I have plenty of very capable officers in reserve, sir; that would cause no problems,’ stated Mark with confidence.

  ‘Fine, then I give you my support. So what are your plans for today?’

  ‘I’m going to visit Thirklewood Hall, sir, to inspect it.’

  ‘Good. Keep me informed.’

  Mark arrived at Thirklewood Hall five minutes before his appointed time and was immediately shown into Blanchard’s tidy office. Blanchard stood up with a hand extended in greeting and Mark shook it. Blanchard, a stocky sandy-haired man in a Lovat gr
een suit and brogues, showed Mark to a richly upholstered leather chair. A secretary brought some coffee and Blanchard moved his chair from the desk to be seated closer to Mark.

  He noticed that Blanchard’s face was freckled and that his eyes were almost green; he would be in his late forties, Mark estimated, but looked absolutely right for this role — confident, well-dressed and in command of himself.

  ‘The house is in a bit of a shambles, I’m afraid,’ Blanchard began. ‘The school’s just gone, as you know, and there’s still a lot of debris to clear away. It all looks very shabby indeed. I’m afraid they didn’t spend much on modernisation or maintenance. The showers are still wartime vintage, there are no carpets on most floors, just brown canvas, although they have left the curtains behind and the Head’s suite isn’t too bad. A bit old-maidish, if you know what I mean, but clean. I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do to improve the place right now although I believe the Americans are bringing some home comforts with them — they have their own cooks and maids, they’ll be stocking the kitchen and the bar and will be bringing a television set or two. They might even decorate some of the areas they’ll be using, and they’ve said they can rustle up some carpeting and rugs. You and your officers will be making use of their facilities, you realise?’

  Mark smiled. ‘Thanks — our lot wouldn’t dream of spending a penny on decorations. So do I warrant a room of my own?’

  ‘You’re to have the French teacher’s room. It’s quite pleasant and overlooks the lawns to the South.’

  ‘And my officers?’

  ‘I’ve allocated them the nicer rooms — first come, first served! Mr Moore said you’d be bringing a contingent of about a dozen?’

  ‘Fifteen probably,’ said Mark. ‘I can let you have details when I return to my office.’

  ‘No problem, but some might have to use dormitories. There is a section for women too, they can have their privacy in the west wing. I’ve tried to keep your officers separated from the US Embassy teams, I thought you’d welcome that.’

  ‘And the great man himself? He’s in the Head’s old suite, I believe? I’ll need to look at that, from a security aspect. You know I’m responsible for all internal security?’

  ‘I do indeed, Mr Pemberton, and I’ll do all I can to help. Now, while the Vice-President is in residence, large wooden notices will be positioned at the main gate and at the rear entrance to announce that the school has left these premises; there will be a contact address and the school’s new telephone number. The notices will add that the Hall is undergoing extensive alterations. Those signs will say the house is closed until further notice — that should deter casual visitors. The school has written to all its suppliers and other contacts to announce its departure and its new location. We shall open to the public many months after you have left. Any comings and goings from the house before and during the Vice-President’s stay should not attract undue attention among the villagers.’

  ‘I imagine they are accustomed to strangers around the place?’

  ‘Yes, when the school has been on holiday in the past, the Hall has often been filled with seminars, conferences and the like. The locals are accustomed to seeing people around, both locals and those from overseas.’

  ‘Some members of my force have been here, I believe,’ said Mark.

  ‘Yes, it all helps to keep the building busy. When this was a school people came from far and wide and didn’t seem to mind the primitive sleeping arrangements during a short stay.’

  ‘It would be like camping,’ grinned Mark. ‘Fun for a day or two. Now, the timings for my arrival. The Vice-President is due to arrive at this house on 11th July, a Monday. I’ll have to move in some time before then to prepare, probably a week earlier, say Monday, 4th July.’

  ‘American Independence Day, eh? Most appropriate and not a problem at all. I hope it’s a good omen for all concerned.’

  ‘I’ll have to bring an advance party of my officers,’ Mark said.

  ‘And we’ll need to establish extra telephone lines, install our computers and word processors and so on. We will bring all our own equipment, desks, filing cabinets, photocopiers and so forth, all to be installed before Hartley arrives. The one thing we do need from you is space for our offices.’

  ‘There is plenty of office space — disused classrooms are all over the Hall. Help yourselves. It’s first come, first served, as I said earlier. There’ll be an advance party from the Embassy too, so you’d better get the best of what’s available! Just make yourselves at home. Well, if you’ve finished your coffee, I’ll show you round.’

  Mark was driven along the rising, winding drive through sycamores until the house came into view. It was a splendid mansion with a pedimented entrance above a dual flight of curving stone stairs. Said to have been designed by Sir John Vanbrugh, the mansion was on two storeys above a basement, and had wings to the East and west. In front of the entrance was a courtyard surrounded by high walls with iron gates across the entrance; this was an added and welcome security feature.

  Soon he was being guided around the interior. Blanchard, with evident pride, showed him the entire house and tried to explain how it would be improved for its forthcoming public visitors while repeatedly apologising for its current untidy and battered state. Battered walls, battered doors, battered floors, battered dormitories and battered bathrooms all bore the signs of repeated use by boisterous girls aggravated by a lack of funds to repair or conceal the damage. In the far future, all would be fresh and gleaming… But that could not be done in time for the incoming police officers, apologised Blanchard.

  Mark inspected his own room and the rooms allocated to his team, then asked to see the Vice-President’s quarters and the seven external doors. The tour took about an hour, with Mark asking pointed questions about fire escapes, window locks, fragile doors, cellar entrances and a host of other obvious risks to security. He was also concerned about the likelihood of electronic listening devices being planted in the fabric, and of time bombs or incendiary devices being positioned. At first glance, many of the security defects could be remedied by the attention of a skilled workman or two, and Blanchard said this would be done — the US Embassy had offered to pay for any such improvements.

  Mark asked, ‘Have any improvements been done since the school evacuated the premises?’

  ‘No, there’s not been time, we’ve just done a little general tidying up. A few broken windows fixed, toilet seats repaired, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Who did that?’ asked Mark.

  ‘Our own staff,’ responded Blanchard.

  ‘From the time my officers arrive,’ Mark said, ‘everyone who enters this building must be approved by us. And I mean everyone. We need to concern ourselves with matters like someone planting listening bugs or bombs. I shall instruct our security experts to sweep the entire complex for devices, electronic or explosive; they’ll arrive on Monday.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Once they’ve declared the Hall clear of danger, we will make the building secure. It will be a sterile area, Mr Blanchard, and once that is achieved, we can then admit authorised personnel to carry out maintenance work, install telephones and computer lines and so on. Everyone working here will be security-vetted and will be issued with a security pass, including you and me!’

  ‘Fair enough — I understand. I once managed an estate which hosted the Queen on occasions, so I do know the routine. I’m always here to help.’

  ‘Thanks, it’s nice to have our actions understood!’ said Mark.

  Having made this initial inspection, Mark said, ‘Well, Mr Blanchard, thanks for your co-operation. My next duty is to move in here. I’ll arrive on Monday morning, around coffee time!’

  ‘The pot will be on,’ promised Blanchard.

  Chapter Three

  By mid-afternoon on Monday, 4th July, Thirklewood Hall was buzzing with activity. Most of Mark’s officers had arrived, with Detective Inspector Paul Larkin as Mark’s deputy. Aide
d by Detective Constable Duncan Young, he was busy installing HOLMES — the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System, a sophisticated computer which was used on all major investigations and murder enquiries. Further computer equipment would provide immediate access to a whole range of information from national and international intelligence sources, vital if complete security was to be achieved.

  Electronic surveillance experts from the Regional Support Services had arrived; some were checking every inch of the house for hidden devices, while others installed security cameras over the seven entrances. Explosives experts, along with police dog Ben, were scanning the interior for bombs while outside, the advance party of Americans was doing likewise around the grounds, distant outbuildings and all external parts of the Hall. All the drains and manhole covers, for example, were being inspected and made secure.

  Ten officers from Scotland Yard’s Diplomatic Protection Group and fifteen US personnel had arrived and were installing themselves and their equipment.

  There were secretaries and domestic staff, computers and crockery. Several American cooks had arrived too, along with a pantechnicon containing food and office equipment. Mark was delighted to learn that he and his officers would be fed by the Americans — their food was always scrumptious!

  Robin Blanchard hovered around the activity, bemused by the noise, the shouting, the hammering, the requests for more coffee and the general bustle of this preliminary work.

 

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