Driving Dead

by Stephen G Collier

  The death of his own wife made him understand what Kirsty Kingsfield was going through. Life had been difficult enough for him, brought into focus when he got himself blown up and his medic wife died trying to save him. He’d become insular, he recognised that, and thought that, by moving forces, he’d have a better chance of returning to the way he saw himself. The way he was when he joined the army. He rubbed the scar on his face, as the memories of that day flooded back. Sometimes they were difficult to hold at bay.

  By the time he’d finished his remorseful thinking, he had arrived at the force restaurant, where he ordered a sausage sandwich and a coffee. He picked up a paper, which had been abandoned on one of the tables and sat down to read the headline

  “Police Woman Abducted In Failed Sting Operation. Special report by our staff reporter.”

  Bloody press office! They could have held that info back. Really not necessary to blast his first failed operation all over the press.

  Some minutes later, his phone rang and, wiping grease from his hands, he answered it. It was DC Fred Martin.

  ‘Yes, Fred, what’s up?’

  ‘Good news, boss!’ he exclaimed down the phone.

  ‘About time. I could do with some.’

  ‘Frank Philpott was picked up a hour ago in a traffic stop on the M55 in Cheshire.’

  Finally a bit of good news. ‘That’s great, where is he?’

  ‘At Chester nick. Been lifted for breach of bail conditions.’

  ‘Ah, we told him not to leave the county.’

  ‘We did, and he did,’ Fred said.

  ‘Right. Are they doing him for anything?’

  ‘Only some minor traffic offences. They said if we want him, we’ll have to go and fetch him.’

  ‘Right, speak to the CI. I’m on my way back to the office.’ Randall wrapped up what was left of his sandwich and made his way out of the restaurant. ‘Then arrange for you and someone else, probably a uniform, to go up with you to bring him back.’

  The news Randall received about Frank Philpott’s breach of bail, was a good start to the day, just for a change. Good news had been difficult to come by in both enquiries.

  He made his way back to the incident suite with a bit of a spring in his step. As he entered the suite, that spring soon disappeared, as he saw ACC Marland talking to Freeman.

  Freeman looked over to Randall and beckoned him over. He tried to think about what he might have done to warrant a visit by ACC Ops.

  He exchanged pleasantries, as he approached Marland, who looked at him with a face that he couldn’t really read. Was it good or bad that he was here? he asked himself, as he approached.

  ‘Ah, Randall, how are things progressing?’

  ‘I think we’ve had a spot of luck. Frank Philpott, caught in a traffic stop in Cheshire and currently residing at Chester nick for breach of bail conditions.’

  ‘Somebody going to get him, I hope.’

  ‘Fred Martin and a uniform are going up. In fact, I hope they’ve gone by now.’

  ‘Good work, Randall.’ He turned to Freeman. ‘I understand that there has been a bit of friction between the department and Jordan?’

  ‘Nothing we can’t handle, sir,’ replied Freeman, glancing at Randall, in a ‘how the hell did he hear about that?’ sort of way.

  ‘Right, give him all the help he needs. We’ve got to foster good inter-departmental relations, in these times of austerity, you know.’ The smile that crossed Marland’s face was not what Randall would call warm.

  ‘He does tend to go and do his own thing, sir,’ Randall called out as Marland walked away from him.

  ‘You have to give him the benefit. After all, he is a black rat,’ Marland said, stopping midstride and turning back towards them both.

  ‘A what?’ quizzed Freeman.

  ‘Black rat – traffic cop. You not heard the expression, since you’ve been over here?’

  Freeman shook his head.

  Marland took a couple of paces back towards them. ‘When I did my time in the Met, traffic cops were called black rats – because they eat their own.’

  ‘Really? Never heard that before.’

  ‘It moved out into the provinces and most traffic cops are referred to as black rats. The Met even set up a charity to help orphans and bereaved children of serving officers and others. What started as derogatory to our white-hatted colleagues has been turned into something for good. On the other hand, I wouldn’t let them catch you with too much beer in your belly!’ Marland guffawed at his own joke.

  Randall and Freeman simply smiled politely.

  Marland excused himself, told them to keep up the good work and retired from the suite. Freeman indicated to Randall to follow him into his office. He shut the door.

  ‘What’s going on with Jake?’

  ‘He had a hunch about who he might think was involved in the deaths he’s investigating.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I didn’t think it was worth running it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It was just a hunch, based on a piece of paper Parker found in the house where she was held.’ Randall stuffed both hands in his pockets.

  Freeman sat down behind his desk. ‘What was in this piece of paper? he asked eventually.

  ‘It was requisition for certain drugs.’

  ‘And you didn’t think it was important?’

  ‘No, not at the time.’

  Freeman indicated for Randall to sit in the chair opposite his desk. He rubbed his face and looked directly at Randall. ‘What if I tell you that he’s made an arrest?’

  ‘When?’ That got Randall’s interest. He sat up further in the chair, and adjusted his glasses.

  ‘Last night.’

  ‘You knew about it?’

  ‘I did, yes.’

  ‘Only after it had happened, I’d guess?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Why didn’t you let me know?’

  ‘Your phone was off.’

  Randall was not happy and he was sure Freeman could see it in his face. He stood, then paced the office. ‘Who?’

  ‘An employee, where we sent our samples for a second opinion.’

  ‘What has he said?’

  ‘She – and the interview is still ongoing.’

  ‘Don’t you think that I should be handling the interview?’ Randall was becoming more and more frustrated by this conversation.

  ‘No, let him get on with it and we’ll pick up the pieces.’

  ‘Great.’ Randall stuffed his hands back in his pocket and turned to leave.

  ‘You should have listened to him, Inspector,’ Freeman said as Randall opened the door to leave. He paused for a second, but made no comment as he walked out. He was more interested in getting Frank Philpott into an interview room, than worry about a traffic cops problems. In the meantime, he needed to go and speak to Lord Fulborough. He looked around the office.

  ‘Where’s Stevens?’ he growled. He got some blank looks and head shakes. He phoned him. It went straight to answerphone. ‘Never mind, I’ll go on my own.’

  51

  Arriving at the hospital, Randall asked to see Lord Fulborough. The doctors agreed, but only for a short time. Randall walked into the private room, a room not too dissimilar to that where Parker was previously. Fulborough was awake, drifting in and out of sleep from the different cocktail of medication he’d been put on. He opened his eyes and watched Randall find a chair in the corner of the room and dragged across to Fulborough’s bed and sat down.

  ‘Are you awake, sir?’ he asked.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I need to get some information from you. We have Frank Philpott in custody.’

  ‘Good, you can tell him from me that he’s fired,’ Fulborough’s voice was low as if talking through a mouthful of g
ravel.

  ‘I’ll be sure to mention it. Are you up to talking to me?’

  ‘For the moment, yes.’

  ‘So, Lord Fulborough… ’

  ‘Barry, please.’

  ‘So, Barry, can you tell me what happened that evening?’

  Fulborough shifted his weight and tried to sit up further. He indicated to Randall to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table. Randall stood and gave Fulborough the glass, from which he took a drink. Randall took the glass from him then placed it back on the table. Fulborough laid back, wincing with pain.

  ‘I was angry, it has to be said. I found out about him hiding that second body in my wood. It was bad enough finding one twelve months ago, let alone finding another one.’

  Randall sat back in the chair and steepled his hands. He didn’t want to interrupt, now that Fulborough had started to talk.

  ‘I wanted to speak to him, to ask him why he’d done it. I know that I wanted to get on with clearing it, because I’d been on his back to get it done. But I didn’t want him to break the law. I’m not that sort of person – law-abiding. I may be a bit of an arse sometimes, when things don’t go my way, but I would never condone breaking the law. It was my father who walked the line of criminality – and I know that Philpott was almost his henchman. He used to do things that my father wanted without father knowing, if you understand what I mean.’

  Randall nodded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘There’s a story, a fable, if you like, about these remains.’

  ‘Why have we not heard this before?’

  ‘Family secrets.’

  ‘Hmm, we all have them. But surely if it was well known, somebody else would have spoken out about it before now?’

  ‘No, we kept it close to our chests. I didn’t even find out about it, until after my father died. Philpott told me, in a way that suggested there would be a lot of trouble if I said anything.’

  ‘You’re going to tell me now, are you?’

  Fulborough nodded. ‘I am, yes, because he doesn’t work for me anymore, as far as I’m concerned. In any case, I am not beholden to one of my staff, however long he’s worked on the estate.’

  ‘Do you want to make a formal statement?’

  ‘I suppose so,’

  Randall removed his phone from his pocket, clicked on an app, and set it to record. ‘If you don’t mind,’ he said, glancing down at the phone. Fulborough shrugged.

  ‘When you’re ready.’

  ‘The story goes that father became besotted with a young stable hand. A pretty girl, by all accounts, but from what I can make out, a bit unhinged. father would not leave her alone and one Sunday morning after he had returned from the hunt – pissed as usual – there should be a legal limit for riding a horse too.’ He smiled. ‘Anyway, he took her in the stables when everyone else had left and raped her. Nine months later, she had a baby girl. It was always a thorn in his side. She blackmailed him for thousands, so she’d keep her mouth shut. She went off with another chap and had a son by him, but she continued to blackmail father.’

  ‘Did he ever report it?’

  ‘No. Would have been his worst nightmare.’

  ‘What happened then – to his Lordship, I mean?’

  ‘He drank himself to death.’

  ‘But carried on paying this woman?’

  ‘Oh no. He stopped doing that, when she mysteriously disappeared.’

  ‘Really? Was she reported missing?’

  ‘As far as I am aware, father instructed Philpott to report her missing. Whether he did or not is anyone’s guess. No doubt, you could find that out from your records.’

  Randall nodded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘The rumours, of course, didn’t go away and everyone believed that Philpott had done her in for father.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past him, but you have to understand, I was just a boy. The rumours, however, never went away.’

  ‘Do you think that the body in the wood – the second one – is her?’

  ‘It would explain why he never wanted anything to do with the wood, calling it “his special place”, wouldn’t it?’

  Randall nodded slowly, thinking. ‘What about the other remains, which we found twelve months ago?’

  ‘That’s where the story gets even more intriguing. Again, it’s all rumour, but the remains you found twelve months ago are believed to be her daughter.’

  ‘How do you work that one out?’

  ‘My office manager, Marjorie, also had a bit of a thing for father. They were seen together on more than one occasion. One day he was out with her, when he got a message from Philpott and they rushed back to the estate. You’d have to ask her the rest.’

  ‘But these remains have only been in the ground for about five years?’

  ‘Yes, that would be about right.’

  ‘And the remains we found recently, about fourteen to fifteen years, give or take?’

  ‘Yes, that seems about right as well.’

  ‘What happened to the daughter?’

  ‘They, and I mean her and her stepbrother, lived in Northampton, both got into the social system, after their mother disappeared.’

  ‘What happened to all the money she had from your father?’

  ‘We assume she spent it. I don’t know.’

  There was a knock on the door and the nurse entered.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Detective Inspector.’

  Randall acknowledged her with a nod and held up five fingers. She nodded and retired.

  ‘What I can’t understand, is why would the old Lord be chasing woman at his age?’

  ‘Money pit, they wanted a bit of his, my, estate. He was quite dashing in his younger days, always had women around him. Just couldn’t give it up, I suppose.’

  ‘And what about your mother?’

  Fulborough looked hard at Randall and, for the first time, saw a flicker of emotion in him.

  ‘I would prefer not to speak of my mother.’ He cleared his throat, then mumbled, ‘More family secrets, of which you do not need to know. Nothing relevant to your investigation anyway.’

  Randall nodded and stood to leave. ‘Very well then.’ He picked up his phone and switched off the recorder. He thanked Fulborough for his frankness and walked towards the door. He opened the door and turned back to Fulborough.

  ‘One thing, do you know the name of Lord Fulborough’s disappeared moll?’

  ‘Oh, yes – Avril Tyler.’

  52

  Jake and Stevens sat in interview room seven in Northampton’s Criminal Justice Centre. The room was small and soundproofed, with dull pinkish tiles and was no more that twelve by eight feet in size.

  In the centre of the room was a desk pushed endways against the wall. On the table was a double-deck CD recorder, above which was a computer screen. A bluetooth keyboard and mouse sat on top of the CD deck. Next to the unit was a box of unused and sealed CDs, ready to be placed in the machine. Instructions to the officers were stuck to the top of their side of the desk.

  They sat on one side. Jake had in front of him a file of documents in a manila-coloured folder. Opposite him Simone Nicholls sat, staring hard at them both.

  ‘What the fuck am I here for?’ she demanded.

  ‘All in good time, Miss Nicholls,’ Stevens replied. ‘Once we get these CDs in the recorder,’ holding them up and waving them in front of her, ‘everything will be explained to you.’

  Nicholls said nothing, but continued to stare hard at both of them, sucking her teeth occasionally and looking skywards.

  Jake went through the preliminaries, reminding her that she was still under caution and agreed that she had declined a solicitor at this time. He explained that they were investigating the abduction of WPC Park
er the previous Friday night and other matters.

  ‘Tell me what happened last Friday night.’

  ‘Nothing happened.’

  ‘Did you do anything last Friday?’

  ‘No, I worked till late at the laboratory.’

  ‘How late?’

  ‘Late.’

  Jake looked her in the eye. ‘How… late?’

  ‘Very.’ Nicholls looked away.

  ‘That doesn’t tell me anything.’

  ‘That’s all you’re gettin’.’

  Stevens looked at Jake. ‘Last Friday a policewoman was abducted from a club in Northampton town centre. She was taken to a house, where she was detained against her will, until she managed to escape.’

  ‘And what the fuck has that got to do with me?’

  ‘Explain to me how you got these bruises.’ Jake pointed at Nicholls’s face.

  ‘I fell over.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘At work.’

  ‘So, there will be a record of your accident.’

  ‘Which is a legal requirement,’ Stevens put in.

  ‘I suppose so, somewhere.’

  ‘Did you need hospital treatment?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It looks like a nasty gash.’

  ‘I’m a big girl. I can cope.’

  Jake opened the file in front of him slowly. ‘Tell me what you do with your mother?’

  She sighed and folded her arms in front of her. ‘I’m an analyst.’

  ‘What do you analyse?’

  ‘Drugs, samples, anything I’m given.’

  ‘By?’

  ‘My mother.’

  ‘I bet that can get difficult?’

  ‘Why should it?’

  Jake read the top document briefly of his file. ‘You’re adopted, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. What’s that got to do with anything?’

  He read the sheet of paper, headed New York Police Department. ‘Your biological parents weren’t very law-abiding, were they?’