Storm Force: A chilling Norfolk Broads crime thriller (British Detective Tanner Murder Mystery Series Book 7)

by David Blake

  ‘SO, WHAT DO you think?’ asked Tanner, having suspended the interview until the following morning to lead Cooper back out into the corridor.

  ‘That we’re lucky forensics found that document for the sale of the victims’ nightclub.’

  ‘I was thinking more about McMillan’s overall performance.’

  Walking alongside Tanner, Cooper shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t think he’s the type to saw open some rich guy’s chest with a hacksaw. I mean, did you see his nails?’

  ‘Er…I can’t say that I did,’ Tanner replied, a little surprised to hear Cooper had.

  ‘Well, anyway, I’d say he had them manicured. Then there’s his suit. I don’t know, it’s just difficult to imagine him up to his elbows in blood, which is what he’d had to have been if he was the one who removed Sir Michael’s still beating heart. And if he wasn’t directly involved, but only gave the order, then it’s going to be even harder to prove, especially if the only evidence we have is a pen with a partial fingerprint. I doubt we’ve even got enough for an extension.’

  Reaching the end of the corridor, Tanner stopped to pull open the door. ‘Then I suppose we need to thank our lucky stars that it was Forrester’s idea for us to pull him in.’

  ‘Maybe so, but do you think he’s going to remember that when we’re forced to let him go?’

  Tanner cursed quietly to himself. Cooper was right. The second McMillan walked out the door, Forrester would be laying the blame squarely at their feet, or to be more specific, his!

  ‘Then I suppose we’d better hope something else turns up,’ Tanner sighed. ‘I assume we were able to get a forensics unit over to his strip club?’

  ‘As far as I know.’

  Tanner glanced down at his watch, his mind wondering if there would be enough time for him to drop some flowers in to Christine on his way home by way of an apology for having once again been forced to cancel their evening out together. ‘OK, then I suggest we call it a day. Hopefully, something will turn up overnight.’

  ‘And if it doesn’t?’

  ‘Then we’ll have no choice but to let him go, after which we’ll be able to look forward to spending a few quiet moments attempting to remind our Commander in Chief that it was his stupid idea to arrest him in the first place.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  IN TWO MINDS as to whether he should be there or not, Tanner steered his XJS into Christine’s small gravel-lined drive to pull up next to her MX-5. Killing both the engine and the headlights, he peered nervously out over the car’s large black leather steering wheel. With the rain still hammering down as the windscreen wipers came juddering to a halt, he could barely make out the house beyond. All he could see was that there was a light on in the hall and another in a room upstairs.

  She must be about to go to bed, he thought, glancing down at the clock on his dashboard as a reminder to himself that it had gone eleven.

  Regretting not having called ahead first, he was about to re-start the engine to reverse out when he saw the front door swing open to reveal Christine, staring out at him from her doorway, her arms tugging a dressing gown around her slim narrow waist.

  In for a penny, he muttered to himself.

  Taking hold of the wet stems of the bedraggled flowers he’d hastily picked up from a garage forecourt on the way, he tugged his fluorescent hood over his head and stepped out into the unrelenting rain to hurry over.

  ‘Better late than never, I suppose,’ he heard her say, as he arrived under the shelter provided by her low narrow porch.

  Tanner removed his hood to offer her a look of humble apology. ‘I’m sorry, I should have called.’

  ‘I thought you did.’

  ‘I meant again; to ask if it would be OK for me to drop by on my way home.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now.’

  Unsure what to say next, he produced the flowers from behind his back. ‘I, er, brought you these; by way of an apology.’

  He watched Christine cast a rather cool eye over them.

  ‘I was going to put them in water for you,’ he thought to add, ‘but to be honest, with all the rain, I thought they’d had enough.’

  It wasn’t the funniest joke in the world, but it was good enough to at least earn him a smile.

  A moment of silence followed as her eyes danced briefly with his.

  ‘I saw you on TV again today.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘You were escorting some dangerous miscreant inside the station.’

  ‘Oh, right, him.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ve got your man?’

  ‘We’ll have to see. I’m sure it’s him, but as is often the case, the challenge is going to be proving it. I’m not even sure we’ve got enough to hold him for twenty-four hours, so don’t be too surprised if you see me on TV tomorrow, standing idly by as his solicitor marches him straight back out again. Anyway, how was your day?’

  ‘Wet; a bit like your flowers.’

  ‘Er…they’re yours now,’ Tanner remarked, holding them out for her.

  ‘Right,’ she responded, taking them reluctantly out from his hand.

  ‘I must admit, they looked a lot better in the shop.’

  ‘You mean the garage forecourt, as in the one just down the road?’

  Tanner offered her a boyish smirk. ‘Well, yes, but only because the florist wasn’t open.’

  ‘Look, John, I really didn’t mind that you couldn’t make it tonight, and you certainly didn’t need to come around bearing gifts, at least not ones that look as if they’d been dragged backwards through a puddle. I know you’ve got a lot on at the moment. I think I’d just prefer it if you didn’t make promises you’re unable to keep.’

  ‘Normally I wouldn’t, but as I said on the phone, my boss made the unexpected announcement that I had to make an arrest, despite knowing that we had very little in the form of actual evidence.’

  Christine took a moment to start re-arranging the flowers. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea how long this investigation is going to go on for?’

  ‘I think that’s going to depend on if we can find some evidence that’s a little less circumstantial between now and eight o’clock tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Is that likely?’

  Tanner hesitated. ‘Well, it’s possible. We’ve got a team of forensics poring over his nightclub as we speak. Even if they can’t find anything that can link him to the murders, there’s every chance they’ll find something else we’d be able to charge him with, like a large quantity of drugs, for example.’

  ‘And if it turns out not to be him, I assume this will end up going on for months.’

  ‘Hopefully not that long.’

  ‘But more than a few days, though?’

  ‘Probably,’ he nodded, lowering his eyes.

  Christine’s cheeks flushed with colour, as her eyes danced nervously with Tanner’s. ‘You know, you could always stay the night, if you wanted to?’

  Tanner felt a sudden surge of blood begin flooding through his veins. It was obvious what she was offering, something he could feel every fibre of his being longing desperately for. All he had to do was hold out his hand to be led quietly inside.

  He hesitated. ‘I – I thought you said we should wait.’

  ‘Maybe we don’t have to.’

  An image of Jenny, laughing at something he’d either said or done, flickered through his mind.

  ‘Is that a yes?’ Christine asked, a questioning frown creasing her forehead.

  Reminding himself that Jenny would never have wanted him to be on his own for the rest of his life simply because she couldn’t be with him anymore, he returned a smile to take a tentative step forward, only for him to hear the muffled sound of his phone.

  ‘Shit,’ he cursed, stopping to unzip his jacket.

  ‘You don’t have to answer it.’

  ‘It will be work.’

  ‘All the more reason not to.’

  ‘I know, but forensics may have found somet
hing,’ Tanner continued, delving a hand inside his suit jacket. ‘If they’ve uncovered the evidence we need, I’m soon going to find myself with considerably more free time.’

  Christine stood patiently by whilst Tanner answered the call.

  ‘Tanner speaking.’

  Silence followed as he turned to stare out at his Jag, his jaw stiffening as he watched the rain rattling over its elongated bonnet.

  ‘OK, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  Ending the call, he turned back to face Christine.

  ‘That was my boss.’

  ‘No surprises there.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Christine, but I’m going to have to go.’

  ‘They can’t get someone else to cover for you?’

  ‘Not for this,’ he replied, his tone flat with regretful despondency. ‘The body of another woman’s been found. Sounds like she’s been murdered.’

  CHAPTER FORTY

  FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS GIVEN, Tanner soon found himself navigating around a series of endless roundabouts on the outskirts of Norwich, eventually swinging his car into a road that looked very much like every other. There he tilted his head to look up to where he could see a series of blue flashing lights at the top of a steep incline, ricocheting off surrounding cars and modestly proportioned semi-detached houses.

  After nudging his car onto the curb behind an ambulance, he stepped back out into the unrelenting wind and rain to begin forging his way up the hill where he could see a couple of constables wrestling with a line of Police Do Not Cross tape. Beyond them were three forensics officers, their showerproof white overalls shimmering in the rain as they fought to lift a glistening white tent around the body of a woman he could just about make out, lying slumped in a gutter at their feet. As a particularly savage gust tore into the group, he watched as the tent keeled slowly over to rest on the body they were trying so hard to protect.

  ‘It’s no use,’ he heard a voice call out. ‘It’s never going to stay. We’re doing more harm than good.’

  A familiar voice broke through the foray. ‘Fine. Leave it. We’ll just have to make do.’

  ‘Dr Johnstone,’ Tanner called, putting his shoulder to the wind as he continued to make his way up the hill.

  ‘Ah, Tanner,’ the medical examiner replied, one hand wrapped around the handle of an umbrella, the other clutching at a tablet. ‘I was wondering when someone from CID was going to show up.’

  ‘You’re lucky I did,’ Tanner replied, allowing his mind to drift momentarily back to what he could have been doing instead.

  ‘As you can see, I’m afraid we’re not having much luck protecting either the crime scene or the body.’

  ‘No, well; hardly the weather for putting up a tent.’

  Keeping a firm hold of the rim of his hood, Tanner stepped forward to stare down at the body, its head submerged under a torrent of water flooding along the gutter where a slim red stiletto could be seen caught in the cast iron grate of an overflowing drain.

  ‘What’ve we got?’ he asked, his eyes resting on a slim stocking-clad leg jutting awkwardly out into the road before lifting them up to an open handbag, its strap caught around a thin delicate wrist.

  ‘Pretty much as you can see. A woman, late teens / early twenties. Death would appear to be from a single blow to the back of the head, very much like the last one. Judging by the shape and size of the injury, I’d say there’s a better than average chance that it was the same weapon as well.’

  ‘Time of death?’

  ‘No more than an hour ago.’

  ‘Had she been…?’ Tanner began, his eyes moving to a cream-coloured mini-skirt, and the thighs it had ridden to the top of.

  ‘Unless whoever did this took the time to put everything back on afterwards, I’d say no.’

  Tanner’s eyes trained themselves on her open handbag. ‘Any other motivating factors?’

  ‘If you mean the bag, it was like that when we arrived. We found a purse left lying beside it as well. I’d say it had been gone through, but interesting enough, it doesn’t look like anything had been taken, certainly not what you’d have expected.’

  ‘Cash?’

  ‘In abundance.’

  ‘But you say someone had been through it?’

  ‘The credit cards looked as if they’d all been jammed back inside, so at a guess, I’d say it had. We found a drivers’ licence in there as well. Assuming the handbag, purse and everything inside belonged to the victim, her name is Nicola Bowell.’

  Tanner contemplated the idea of digging out his notebook to write it down, but when yet another savage gust of wind tore its way along the street, driving ice cold shards of rain up into his face, he thought better of it. ‘Any idea who found her?’

  ‘I believe it was a taxi driver.’

  ‘Do you know if he’s still here?’ he asked, glancing furtively about.

  ‘The last time I looked he was. Try further up the hill, past the forensics van.’

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  WITH THE MEDICAL examiner returning to his work, Tanner continued to forge his way up the hill, the fingers of one hand remaining firmly clasped around the rim of his hood.

  Passing a line of emergency vehicles, all double-parked down one side of the road, he eventually saw a couple of police constables huddled beside a non-descript saloon car, its windows clouded over by thick layers of dripping condensation.

  ‘I’ve been told there’s a taxi driver somewhere around here?’ he called out, lurching to a halt in front of the two men.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the one nearest replied, standing to attention. ‘The taxi driver. He’s been waiting inside his car. We told him he couldn’t leave until someone from CID turned up.’

  ‘I bet he was pleased to hear that.’

  ‘Not exactly, sir, no.’

  ‘OK, thank you. I’ll take it from here. Perhaps you could give your colleagues a hand with getting the area cordoned off? The last time I saw them, they looked as if they could probably do with some help.’

  Waiting for them to scurry away, Tanner rapped his knuckles on the car’s fogged-up window to see first the sleeve of a coat wiping away at the condensation before the round screwed-up face of a man appeared, gawping out at him through two bleary half-closed eyes.

  Gesturing for him to wind his window down, Tanner pulled out his ID, only to see the man roll his eyes to begin mouthing some inaudible complaint.

  ‘About bloody time,’ the driver eventually spat, the moment the window began inching its way down. ‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting here for?’

  Tanner thought he’d hazard a guess. ‘I’m not sure. Ten minutes?’

  ‘More like a bloody hour!’

  ‘Oh dear. Well, never mind. At least you’re nice and dry.’

  ‘I’m supposed to be working. I don’t get paid to sit about all day doing bugger all.’