THE DCI BLIZZARD MURDER MYSTERIES: Books 1 to 3

by John Dean

  ‘Can we not talk here?’ She looked round at the sun dappling the trees and the grassed areas. ‘It’s so much more pleasant than one of your stuffy interview rooms.’

  ‘As long as you repeat every word of it when we do go to Abbey Road.’

  She nodded her assent.

  ‘When you told my sergeant it was a dangerous world for children, I think you meant more than Emily’s death. Cara left us a letter suggesting you can help with our inquiries.’

  ‘She came to see me when my case against CG Haulage collapsed. Said Danny got drunk one night and admitted he was driving the truck that killed Emily. Said he had to tell someone, reckoned it had been preying on his mind.’

  ‘I think he talked about a lot more than Emily’s death, though. I think he was also talking about the sex ring.’

  ‘You’ve read Cara’s letter by now so you know the answer to that.’

  ‘Why would she tell you all this? You weren’t friends, I think?’

  ‘I’d hardly ever met the woman, but she knew about the collapse of my legal action. Said she wanted me to know what kind of a man Danny was.’

  ‘But why? Cara Galston did not strike me as the kind of woman to have a conscience.’

  ‘I got the impression that Cara Galston only ever acts in her own self-interest.’

  ‘So, what was her reason?’

  ‘Does it matter? Surely what matters is that you can arrest them all now. Put an end to it.’

  ‘How long had you known about the sex ring?’

  ‘A few weeks.’ Janice looked across the cemetery and shook her head. ‘I was shocked when I heard. That such awful things could be going on under our noses for all those years defies belief. Those poor children.’

  ‘I still cannot understand why Cara would tell a stranger. I mean, why choose you of all…’ Blizzard’s voice tailed off. ‘Dear God, was Emily one of their victims?’

  ‘No.’ Janice shook her head vigorously and looked at the picture of her child beaming out of the gravestone. ‘No, she was spared that, thank God. My Emily was a loved and treasured child who always felt safe.’

  ‘But Jenny’s kids did not, I think?’

  ‘No, they didn’t. Cara said that’s why they were killed. Jenny started to suspect something was going on – I think Pauline told her – and she threatened to go the police. There’s no way Danny could let that happen.’

  ‘So, he killed them?’

  ‘Danny Galston was a coward, Chief Inspector. All bullies are.’

  ‘Are you saying he got someone else to do it?’

  ‘I think we both know the answer to that.’

  ‘Back to Lenny Rowles.’

  ‘Back to Lenny Rowles. I think there may have been other murders as well.’

  ‘Others?’ asked Blizzard, feeling an icy chill running through his veins.

  ‘Danny told Cara a couple of other kids were killed to keep their mouths shut.’

  ‘Do you know their names?’

  ‘I am sorry, all I know is that they were in care. A boy and a girl, Cara said. The girl was older. Cara said she thought they might have been brother and sister. Many wicked acts have been carried out in this city, Chief Inspector. Why did the police not do something about it?’

  ‘You have no idea,’ murmured Blizzard.

  The chief inspector let his eyes wander momentarily and they settled on a man and his young daughter walking down one of the nearby paths, holding hands and chatting happily, the eight-year-old stopping to point excitedly at a squirrel scuttling up a tree. Janice followed the chief inspector’s gaze and smiled.

  ‘Not everyone is a victim,’ she said, reading the chief inspector’s thoughts. ‘Some children are loved beyond words.’

  ‘You know,’ said Blizzard, recalling Colley’s grin when he finally accepted that the arrival of the impending baby was an event to be celebrated, ‘I think you are probably right, Mrs Garbutt.’

  Chapter twenty-six

  As darkness shrouded Hafton at six the next morning, the briefing room at Abbey Road Police Station was packed with officers, each one eagerly awaiting the arrival of John Blizzard. There was an electricity in the air and the assembled officers sat repeating half-heard snatches of conversation and speculating wildly. What everyone did know was that the impending operation was linked to the attacks on David Tulley and Alan Hayes. A strong sense of personal business to be finished was one of the reasons why so many had come in on days off. Everyone had heard that Lenny Rowles was back in the city. The officers knew that Rowles had, in his time, dispatched a number of their colleagues to the general hospital; one had even been forced to retire because of his injuries. The news that Lenny Rowles had returned meant that the waiting was over: this was payback time and no one was going to miss it.

  Sitting amid the gathering, Fee Ellis tried hard to suppress her own excitement. Snatching an hour away from the frantic activity, the chief inspector had finally taken her into his confidence the afternoon before. As a woman whose thoughts had turned to the prospect of her own possible motherhood in recent months, she was reduced to tears more than once. Now, sitting in the briefing room, she glanced round and caught sight of Colley, who was in his usual position, leaning against the wall by the door. As Fee watched, he instinctively raised a hand to the bruise on his face. Catching her eye, Colley winked at Fee; she smiled back.

  Standing next to the sergeant were two men she did not recognise but whom she surmised were Randall and Mather. Their presence in the room was attracting a lot of interest and a number of officers had already been over to shake their hands. Fee noted that most of them headed for Randall; Mather seemed more of a stranger to them and stood aloof, saying little and acknowledging the odd greeting with a slight smile as he waited quietly for the briefing to start.

  Shortly after six, John Blizzard pushed his way through the door, followed by Arthur Ronald, and a hush fell on the room as the chief inspector surveyed each of them in turn. They could feel his eyes boring into them, a tactic he had used many times before in briefings, a deeply personal challenge to action. Ronald sat down at the side of the room, leaving the stage free for his friend; this was John Blizzard’s show and few did it better.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began Blizzard with the slightest of smiles. ‘Thank you for turning up at such an unearthly hour and apologies to those nursing hangovers, especially those of you at Gary Mac’s birthday party last night. Try not to throw up in the back of the paddy wagon, guys and gals.’

  There were a few laughs and everyone glanced at several uniformed officers sitting in the corner of the room; they smiled ruefully and tried to ignore their throbbing heads.

  ‘Talking of health,’ said Blizzard, ‘I imagine you would like to know the latest on the boys.’

  Murmurs of agreement ran round the room.

  ‘Hayesy is recovering nicely. As for Tulley…’ Blizzard looked serious, evoking expressions of consternation from the assembled officers. ‘I am afraid that after his initial good progress, he had to undergo surgery last night to extricate a corned beef pastie from his trouser pocket. Don’t worry, though, the doctors say he’s going to be OK and Tulley’s going to have it for his breakfast.’

  The comment was greeted with loud laughter – of relief more than at the joke – and Blizzard smiled then held up a hand, face suddenly solemn.

  ‘I can now confirm what most of you will have heard anyway, namely that we believe that one of the men who carried out the attack to be Lenny Rowles. I imagine some of you have good reason to remember him.’

  There were plenty of nodded heads and whispers ran round the room like the breeze through summer grass.

  ‘So, to business,’ said Blizzard, steel in his voice. ‘This morning’s operation is not just about Lenny Rowles. Many of you will have been aware of rumours over the years suggesting that there is a sex ring operating in this city. There have been those who dismissed the idea as fanciful – our own dear chief constable seems to have been
somewhat sceptical – but many of you have not been so sure. I certainly have not, Arthur has not and, without going into detail, there are others in the room who have taken the same view.’

  Colley allowed himself a smile; they had waited a long time for this moment.

  ‘I can reveal that, thanks to work carried out by a number of officers over the past few days, we believe we are in a position to finally smash this ring apart. We believe that Lenny Rowles was part of the ring before he left the city. He and Danny Galston would appear to have been its enforcers, making sure no one dared speak to us. We believe that Danny Galston’s death left the ring vulnerable. The leaders feared they were about to be exposed – we spoke last night to one of the editors of a Sunday tabloid and it seems Gerry Brauner was working on an investigation with a team of their reporters. The ring had worked out what was happening and brought Lenny Rowles back to sort it. Well, now it is us who are going to sort it.’

  Excited whispering passed through the room again but Blizzard held up a hand. The room fell silent.

  His voice was suddenly softer, ‘Fifteen years ago, I stood in Danny Galston’s house with Harry Roberts. We vowed that one day we would catch the man who murdered Jenny and the kids. Sadly, Harry never lived to see that day.’

  All eyes were turned on the chief inspector.

  ‘But I did.’ Blizzard’s voice was harsh, anger getting the better of him. ‘The night Harry died, I promised him I would bring the killer to book. This morning, I will keep that promise, by God I will.’

  The officers watched, fascinated by the strong emotions battling for supremacy within the chief inspector.

  ‘And there is one more thing,’ said Blizzard, regaining his calm. ‘Myself and Harry made another promise, so please remember that we are also looking for Pauline Galston.’

  He looked out of the window in the blackness of the rain-flecked morning before turning back to survey them.

  ‘It’s time to bring her home, ladies and gentlemen.’

  Chapter twenty-seven

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Colley.

  ‘As sure as I can be,’ said Blizzard, looking at his sergeant with eyes that gleamed in the half-light thrown by the street lamps.

  They were sitting in Blizzard’s car parked at end of a road not far from Abbey Road Police Station. The officers had initially stayed behind to watch the last of the police vehicles rumble out of the yard into the early morning darkness. With a satisfied grunt, Blizzard had then taken his car round to the front of the station, joined some moments later by Colley, the sergeant pulling on his black windcheater as he trotted briskly down the steps. They had driven slowly to their target house, neither speaking, each alone with their thoughts.

  Many of the names on Cara Galston’s list of ring members had surprised them but the top one more than most, and they had immediately realised the potential difficulties of confronting such people with only the flimsiest of evidence. They were also aware that Cara had fallen out with their target in recent days. Was she naming him in an act of calculated revenge? Everything else she had done had been well-planned, what about this? Was she somehow settling some old scores? Now, after a short drive through the mist, the detectives were sitting on a modern housing estate, its roads deserted and the detached houses in darkness as their occupants slumbered, unaware that they were being watched.

  ‘She could be having us on,’ commented Colley after a few moments.

  ‘The thought had occurred. I would put nothing past the woman.’

  Blizzard glanced in his rear-view mirror as another car pulled into the road behind them, cut its engine and extinguished its headlights.

  ‘Randall.’

  ‘Alex with him?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Guess he would not want to be miss out on this,’ said Colley. He looked out at the houses with their carefully-coiffured lawns and creeping ivy winding its way elegantly across the mock-Elizabethan timbers. ‘God, I hate all this.’

  ‘Hate what?’

  ‘This.’ The sergeant gestured to their target’s house. ‘I mean, it’s so plastic, guv. So… false. Take this fellow. His whole life has been a lie – assuming Cara is to be believed.’

  ‘You seem unsure about that, though.’

  ‘I guess you get this image of a paedophile.’ Colley looked at the double garages and the lawns. ‘And it’s not this.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s the point. Perhaps that’s how they avoid detection for so long. They’ve got a respectable façade and the money to pay people like Lenny Rowles to keep their victims quiet.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘He is our man, David. I can almost taste it. Feels funny, though, being so close after all these years. I always wondered what it would feel like.’

  ‘Not like this, I imagine.’

  ‘I thought I would be sitting outside Danny Galston’s house for a start.’

  The car radio crackled into life.

  ‘They’re going in,’ said Blizzard, listening to the sudden rush of messages over the airwaves.

  The chief inspector instinctively turned to the sergeant and stretched out a hand. The sergeant shook it and gave a half-smile.

  ‘Let’s do this,’ he said.

  Blizzard nodded and the detectives got out of the car and walked towards the house. Behind them, Randall and Mather did likewise.

  ‘Ready, gentlemen?’ asked Blizzard, turning to face them as they gathered at the end of the drive.

  ‘Too bloody right,’ said Randall.

  ‘I’ll take the back,’ said Mather, running up to the side gate and hurdling it in one smooth movement.

  ‘I’ll take the milk-float,’ grinned Colley as a wheezing sound alerted them to the vehicle’s arrival in the scene.

  Blizzard and Randall chuckled as he ran out into the road and held up a hand to halt the float. After a hurried conversation with the driver, the sergeant returned and all three officers walked up to the front door. Blizzard’s finger hovered over the bell for a moment.

  ‘No time for doubts now,’ said Randall, reaching past him and pressing.

  The ringing seemed to reverberate around the silent estate and seconds later, lights went on upstairs and they heard feet on the stairs. The hall light went on and the security chain was unlocked, the door swinging open to reveal a startled-looking man in striped blue pyjamas. For a moment, he struggled to make out their features, silhouetted as they were in the glare of the security light, then his eyes widened as he recognised Blizzard.

  ‘Brian Graham,’ said the chief inspector. ‘You are under arrest.’

  * * *

  By the time the officers returned to Abbey Road with their shaken and silent prisoner, the custody area was a hive of activity. Blizzard stood and watched, with grim satisfaction, a succession of men being brought in by his officers. Unshaven, wearing clothes hurriedly thrown on, they looked frightened and bewildered as they were processed and taken for questioning by teams of detectives. Unlike the scenes following the Regional Organised Crime Unit’s arrests a few days before, there was no sense of triumph. The detectives all knew it was far too early to celebrate and were acutely aware that each man had strenuously denied being guilty of anything. That would be their tactic throughout the questioning, the officers suspected, and lawyers in sharp suits were already lining up to do battle. The chief inspector knew that the only evidence he had against their clients was a conversation with Janice Garbutt, a woman who had admitted attacking gravestones in an act of revenge, and a letter from Cara Galston, a woman whose motives were suspect to say the least.

  Adding to the pressure on the chief inspector was the fact that the Keeper team had always known that, when it came to breaking apart the ring, they only had one shot at it. Get it wrong and the chance had gone for ever, the defences would become so watertight that the opportunity for further arrests would be lost. That is why Blizzard and Ronald had decided to move in now. Ordinarily, they would have taken more time to plan th
eir approach but they both sensed that Cara Galston, for whatever reason, had opened a door that would soon be slammed shut again. Blizzard, ever the gambler, was revelling in the moment but, watching the prisoners gathering in the custody suite, he realised that the interviews about to start were crucial if four years of work were not to be wrecked.

  The chief inspector turned to see Arthur Ronald walking towards him.

  ‘My neck’s on the bloody line with this one,’ whispered Ronald in the chief inspector’s ear. ‘If Cara Galston is playing games, I’ll be writing out parking tickets for the rest of my career.’

  ‘What career?’

  ‘I’m not kidding, John,’ hissed Ronald. ‘We’ve not just brought in a bunch of toe-rags here. Look at them, for God’s sake. There’s thirteen of them and they’re all professional men. And that fellow over there, he runs one of the city’s biggest aviation supply companies. What’s more, I recognise at least half of them from the Rotary Club.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Blizzard, turning to him with a look of mock-horror. ‘Rotary? I did not realise that, Arthur. I’ll have them all released immediately.’

  ‘You know what I mean. These are respectable people. Pillars of the community. One of them even has a sodding MBE, for God’s sake.’

  ‘Yeah, but isn’t that what we always guessed.’

  ‘I know, I know, but if we’re wrong, the chief will put my balls through the meat-grinder.’

  ‘Bloody hell, there’s the kind of image you don’t want to think about too often.’

  ‘Come on, I’m serious.’

  ‘Relax, Arthur, we’re right.’ Blizzard gave a slight smile as he spied a familiar figure approaching. ‘Hey up, here comes trouble.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ groaned Ronald.

  Wendy Talbot walked purposefully across the room towards them.

  ‘What’s the bloody idea of this?’ she snapped.

  ‘And good morning to you, Wendy,’ said Blizzard affably.

  ‘Cut the smart-arse stuff! I’ve just heard that one of your teams has lifted Ralph Cargill.’

  ‘Indeed, they have.’ Blizzard glanced over as a couple of uniformed officers brought the haulage boss into the custody room. ‘He seems remarkably dry for a man who’s been swimming all this time.’