by K T Findlay
‘Which means they’re a thinker.’ said Susan.
‘Oh yes, we’re dealing with a thinker. And I reckon whoever it was, had been here sometime before and knew what they were coming into. This wasn’t a random place to dump a body. The other two places were very carefully chosen to send us a message. This one was very carefully chosen too. The question is, what’s the message?’ asked Peregrin, as much to himself as to Susan.
Fifteen minutes later he could see the forensics was going to be a long process.
‘I think we need to start interviewing people. We’ll leave Tony and Eric to do this first pass up the river bank, while you and I go back to the village. We’ll call in more people to come and help you get stuck into interviewing the villagers, and I’ll go and see Dick Harland, Bob’s father.’
He explained the plan to Felicity and the head of the forensics team who happily waved him off.
◆◆◆
It was about 1 PM when Peregrin knocked on Dick Harland’s door in Dalton.
‘Oh hello copper. What do you want this time?’ said Dick with his usual lack of grace.
‘Good afternoon Dick. I’m afraid I am the bearer of bad news. May I come in?’
Harland looked at him with contempt. ‘I don’t want no copper fouling my carpets. We can talk out here.’
Peregrin fixed him with a blank look. ‘Fair enough. We found your son dead by the river bank this morning, and it doesn’t look like natural causes.’ he said in his most clinical tones.
Harland’s mouth dropped open, and he began to gabble. His wife Dot came down the hallway and peered past her husband. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked.
Peregrin looked at her sadly. ‘I’m afraid I’m here to tell you about your son Bob. We found his body this morning.’
Her hand shot to her face and she gasped in dismay.
A few minutes later, fouled carpet or not, Peregrin was sat with the Harlands around the kitchen table, trying to both comfort them and extract information.
‘Do either of you know anyone who might want to hurt Bob?’ he asked as gently as he could.
Dot wrung her hands. ‘No! He was such a good boy.’
Peregrin didn’t say a word, but looked pointedly at Dick.
‘No he wasn’t.’ growled Harland. ‘He was a little bugger, and you know it.’
She recoiled as if he’d slapped her. ‘How dare you say that about your own son?!’ she shrieked.
He raised his own voice in turn. ‘Because it’s bloody true! He was always in trouble at school, skiving off, stealing stuff, drinking before he should’ve been, killing that bloke when he was drunk out of his mind, then getting kicked out of that furniture factory for flogging the charity box! He was always in it up to his ears! There’s plenty of people who’d like to see his arse in a sling!’
Shocked into silence, his wife sobbed into her handkerchief.
Dick turned to Peregrin. ‘So you think somebody did him in?’
Peregrin noted the man’s hands working themselves into fists, and positioned his own to defend himself if need be.
‘It looks likely. We don’t know how personal it was though. It looks very similar to at least two other crimes we’ve seen recently. We don’t know for sure if they have a common theme or not.’
‘You mean Holmes and Thomlinson?’ asked Dick. ‘I read about those in the papers!’
Peregrin nodded.
Dick rocketed up from his chair. ‘Well, that’ll be those two bloody boys of Emma Nixon! You know they duffed Bob up good and proper in the pub one night after he got off?’
Peregrin shook his head. ‘No I didn’t know that. Nobody reported it.’
Dick slammed his fist on the table. ‘Well I’m bloody well reporting it now! So you’d better get off your arse and arrest them before I get to them myself!’ he roared.
‘Sit down Dick.’ said Peregrin conversationally. ‘You’re allowed to get angry. It’s normal at a time like this, but you need to make sure the anger is directed at the right target. And you’re not allowed to take the law into your own hands.’
‘There’s no other bastards who’d have it in for him!’ scowled Dick.
‘You said yourself just now that there are loads of people who’d like to see his arse in a sling. So the Nixons aren’t the only ones. One of the Nixon lads has been overseas for all three killings, and we know he’s there because we checked. So he’s in the clear. The other one has a bullet proof alibi for the Holmes and Thomlinson cases, and so does the mother.’
Dick stuck his face close to Peregrin’s. ‘And what about this one Mr copper?’
Peregrin stayed where he was, and quietly replied. ‘I’ve come to see you first Dick, out of politeness and consideration for you and your wife. We’ll interview the Nixons as soon as we possibly can, but right now I can’t give you an answer.’
Dick retreated to his chair. ‘Well you just tell the pair of them that they’d better have a bullet proof cover story or they’ll see me in their dreams.’
Peregrin stroked his chin. ‘That furniture shop? Was that the one belonging to Alf Morris?’
Dick nodded. ‘Yep. He got a part time job as a labourer and driver. He joined in September last year, then got chucked out when he was caught red handed stealing the charity box in December, right before Christmas. Can you believe firing a bloke right before Christmas?’ He shook his head in disgust.
‘Perhaps Mr Morris felt similarly about the orphans not getting any Christmas presents because the money had been stolen?’ suggested Peregrin gently.
‘What orphans?’ Dick snapped back.
‘That’s who the charity money was for. Didn’t Bob tell you that bit?’
‘ I don’t believe it! Who told you that?’
‘Nobody told me Dick. I was in Alf’s place a few days ago and read the label on the charity box. Bob would have known what he was doing.’
Peregrin left them both chewing over what a fine son they’d had, and returned to Wesser Bech to help complete the interviews there.
Dick on the other hand was deeply concerned. Peregrin hadn’t said that Dick might be a target, but that business with Graham Mellors all those years ago worried him deeply. What if the killer knew the real story and was picking people off one at a time? He shuddered, and set off to check all the doors and windows.
◆◆◆
Freddy and James completed their golf game behind Sally and Co. Amongst other mundanities of life, they’d overheard a good deal about the challenges of finding a comfortable bra, and more about feminine hygiene products than they’d ever wanted to know. Freddy had been quite glad when the battery in his “ears” packed up.
‘Lunch?’ he asked, after he and James had returned their clubs.
‘Can’t see why not.’ grunted his colleague. He glanced up the hill and across the fields towards Alison Falconer’s house, where he could see Sally’s Range Rover pulling up by the front door. ‘We can’t get any closer at the moment, and we know she’s planning to be up there for the rest of the day.’
‘I’m not sure I’d want to get much closer right now…’ murmured Freddy thoughtfully. ‘This morning may turn out to be very useful if I ever have a daughter, but it would have been nice to have had a bit of warning!’
James laughed. ‘Fancy a drink? My shout. How about a Bloody Mary?’
20 Bobbing around
Alf Morris blinked in disbelief when Peregrin told him about Bob’s death. ‘What? Another one?! This is insane!’
Peregrin noted the one missing emotion. ‘But you’re not particularly sorry to hear he’s gone?’
Alf snorted. ‘Nah. He was a mongrel that one. Anyone who steals Christmas presents from a bunch of orphans deserves everything they get! I never had anything to do with it though!’ he snapped, suddenly alert to the fact he now had ties to yet another murdered man. ‘I sacked him. That was enough.’
‘I believe you,’ soothed Peregrin, ‘I just need you and your lads to tell me t
he facts as you see them.
Everyone was happy to talk, but Peregrin learned nothing new. It was only as he was leaving that he spotted something which stopped him dead in his tracks. In the far reaches of the workshop, almost hidden behind a stack of boxes and partly made chairs, he spotted a Mini van.
‘How long have you had that Alf?’ he asked.
‘Oh, about ten years now I should think. I got it for small deliveries, but it was a dumb idea. It’s just too small. I only keep it for sentimental reasons and because I like old Minis.’
‘Please don’t take this the wrong way Alf. I’m just trying to get you off our suspects list, but I need that to be taken away for testing.’
Alf’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re joking! My Mini? Why?’
‘Because I reckon it was one of these that was used to drop young Mr Harland off.’ He walked around it, noting the dust on the panels and the clutter inside the back. ‘It’s almost certainly not this one, judging by its, condition, but we need to formally eliminate it.’
Alf threw him a look, but said. ‘Okay lad, whatever you say. Take care of her though, all right? She may look unloved, but like I said, she’s got sentimental value.’
The vehicle recovery team did their stuff within half an hour, and Peregrin was quickly on his way back to Throcking to spend the rest of the morning watching Felicity doing Bob’s autopsy.
◆◆◆
Susan had arrived unannounced at Alan Nixon’s office in Little Throcking just after a quarter past eight. Alan’s secretary Jane, had insisted on making them a pot of tea and hovering within earshot until Alan sent her down to the Cutty Sark to buy something for elevenses.
‘Sorry about that.’ he explained. ‘She’s very protective.’
Susan had noticed the almost proprietorial air in which the young woman fussed around him. ‘Aren’t romantic entanglements with the staff a bit risky?’ she asked.
Alan’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. ‘What are you talking about? She’s my secretary! She looks after me very well. I care about her, she cares about me, but it’s purely professional.’
Susan gave him a smile that quite clearly said ‘That’s what you think buster!’ but he completely missed the point.
‘Honest,’ he protested, ‘I’m not sleeping with the staff.’
‘Yet.’ said Susan to herself.
To Alan however, she turned to the business in hand. ‘You’re really very close to your mum aren’t you?’
He nodded happily. ‘Oh yes. We both are. That’s why Tim and I are still in the village.’
‘But you’re both single?’
Alan nodded again. ‘For now. I wanted to get my business up and running before I started to seriously look at a girlfriend. I don’t go to pubs or clubs, and won’t start anything with a client, so there isn’t a load of temptation put in my path. And despite what you were implying earlier, Jane, my secretary, is already married, so she’s off the menu as well.’
Susan wondered at the state of Jane’s marriage, but stuck to the topic in hand. ‘How about your brother?’
Alan laughed. ‘He’s the opposite, a real Jack the lad! He’s always got at least one girl on the go somewhere, often more, that don’t know about each other. He plays the field and tries not to get caught. But he’s never had anything serious. I think the longest he stuck with one girl was three months before he got cold feet and dumped her.’
‘That’s not very nice is it?’ she asked reproachfully.
‘Don’t blame me!’ he said. ‘It’s his life, not mine. Mum doesn’t approve at all, if that’s any consolation.’
‘Hm.’ said Susan thoughtfully. ‘Can you tell me where you were on Saturday night?’
‘Easy. Mum and I were in London. We had a fantastic dinner, then went to see Me and My Girl at the theatre, followed by a late dessert and a drink before going back to the hotel. Then on Sunday morning we went to the Victoria and Albert museum, had lunch, checked out of the hotel and came home, arriving after dark. Mum cooked us both dinner, and I went back to my own place about 9 PM. Then up at sparrow fart and in the office from 8 AM, with Jane joining me just before you arrived, and here we are.’ he beamed.
‘How long has this thing about musicals been going on?’ Susan probed.
‘Oh that’s all mum. She was really into them when we were little kids, but she couldn’t go and see many, so they slowly dropped off her radar. But since she met up with Sally, she’s been getting interested again in all sorts of things, including the musicals. I think it’s great for her, so I’m tagging along to encourage her to keep it up.’
He smiled as if remembering something. ‘She’s almost as happy now as when dad was around. It’s great to see.’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Susan, ‘I have news on that front. Bob Harland was found dead on Saturday night, killed the same way as Holmes and Thomlinson.’
Alan’s face froze in astonishment. Susan noted to herself that he seemed to be genuinely surprised.
‘You’re joking?’ he cried. ‘Really? So that’s why you’re here…’
‘You don’t seem at all sad about it.’ she said.
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Mum gave you the school bully story. Nothing’s changed. I’m not at all regretful that he’s no longer around. I don’t feel sorry for his parents because they raised him, and his dad sounds just as much of a shit as he was. So no, I’m not sorry in the slightest.’
Susan nailed him with a stare. ‘You do know that with those three particular victims, that it points the finger of suspicion firmly in your direction?’
Alan grew serious. ‘Yes of course. It would. But all three of us have cast iron alibis. We can all prove that we weren’t involved in any of the three deaths.’
‘Not directly perhaps.’ Susan let the unsaid accusation hang in the air, and Alan bit.
‘You mean one of us might have commissioned someone else to do it?’
She nodded.
He twisted his head to look out the window. ‘There are a few problems with that scenario. First of all, none of us have any connections with the criminal world at all. Certainly mum and I wouldn’t have a clue about who to approach for such a thing, or even know how to approach them for that matter. Then there’s the question of paying for it. None of us are on the poverty line, and I don’t know outside of a TV series how much it would cost, but we’re unlikely to have the funds.’
He had a sudden thought. ‘Why don’t you have a look into our personal finances? If any of us are doing anything like that, it would leave a trace in our records for sure.’
‘We already have.’ smiled Susan.
‘Then you’ll know that we didn’t have any large unaccounted for payments. Well I assume the others haven’t! I can’t know for sure of course!’ he laughed.
‘Except your brother.’
His laughter stopped abruptly. ‘The only large expense I would expect him to have would be for his trip. I think he paid for most of that up front before he left. Was there anything else?’
‘No.’ said Susan.
He gave her a hard look. ‘Then why the cloak and dagger questions? We’re up front people!’
She smiled back at him. ‘You’d be astonished at the number of up front people who get up to all sorts of things they shouldn’t!’
◆◆◆
Tony was having a similar conversation with Emma up the road.
Much to the amusement of Freddy and James who were listening next door, it took him a good ten minutes to get her off the subject of Me and My Girl, and then another ten for her to cover the museum, but the thing that really got him was what happened when he told her about Bob Harland.
‘But it’s only just past breakfast!’ he cried in astonishment.
‘Who cares what time of day it is?’ sang Emma, dancing happily around the room, preparing herself a huge gin and tonic. ‘If there was ever a time to celebrate before lunch, this is it! Are you sure you won’t join me?’ she teased.
‘I’m on duty Mrs Nixon!’ said the profoundly shocked Peterson.
‘Ah well, your loss.’ she grinned happily. ‘Your health!’ and she took a deep draft.
‘Ahhhhhhhh. Delicious! God that’s good!’
‘A man is dead Mrs Nixon!’ he complained.
She paused in mid gulp, carefully put down her glass, and stared at him. ‘Not just any man.’ she hissed. ‘The man who murdered my husband! So don’t try and pull any respect for the dead crap with me! I’m very, very, very, very glad he’s dead, and I’m not ashamed to show it.’
‘Perhaps you should be.’ said a still shocked Tony. ‘With Holmes, Thomlinson and Bob Harland all dead, it points absolutely to you and your sons.’
‘Hah! So what? Tim’s been overseas the whole time, and Alan and me can account for our time completely, for all three killings. We have plenty of witnesses who can vouch for where we were.’
She grabbed another slurp. ‘Oh, and the receipts to prove it!’
‘Did you arrange for someone to kill any of these men?’ Tony asked her directly.
Emma’s head flicked back, and she sloshed half her remaining drink onto the carpet as she roared with laughter. ‘You’ve been reading too many books my lad. I wouldn’t have a clue how to even begin. And I don’t have the money either.’ She giggled. ‘I can’t show you the receipts for that!’
She turned away to make herself another drink.
‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ asked Tony cautiously.
‘I don’t give a flying f–, whoops, begging your pardon officer. I don’t care a damn if it’s wise or not. It’s what I want to do right at this moment, and as long as I don’t try to drive, it’s none of your business! Yippee!!! The bastard’s dead! Wow!’
She put down the glass and walked over to him, a little unsteady on her feet. Before he could react, she bent over and gave him a huge kiss on the top of his head. ‘You darling boy! I’m so grateful for you putting yourself to all this trouble to tell me.’