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Detective Omnibus- 7 to Solve

Page 26

by Adam Carter

“You’re absolutely right, Ray. I need to focus or we’re going to make mistakes here. After all, we wouldn’t want to arrest the wrong man.”

  “That’s right.” He did not understand why she brightened so much in suggesting they would do such a thing, but so long as it got her moving, he was more than willing to accept the change in her. “I’ll drive. I’m not sure I trust you behind the wheel at the moment.”

  Lees offered no argument and the two of them headed out. They did not talk much during the journey but, from what conversation they did have, Lees did seem to be back to her old self. Barden had too much to worry about as it was, without having to deal with the strange mind of Caroline Lees. Still, they were friends and he was concerned for her. He would talk with her about it after, he promised. Once they had put this assignment behind them he would take her down the pub and get a few beers inside her. She always opened up after a few beers and generally felt better for it afterwards.

  They pulled up at a house and Barden evaluated it in seconds. It was small and terraced, with a compact front garden consisting of a scattering of plants in pots and a broken statue of a gnome. As Barden pressed the doorbell, he thought about how they were going to approach the interview. He had intended to let Lees lead, but she had seemed such a mess when she walked in to work that morning, he was not certain he entirely trusted her to do it right. Besides, if his superiors discovered he had allowed her to be the one leading the investigation, it would be his body they would be dredging the river for.

  He refrained from saying such aloud to Lees. He did not feel in her current mood she would have taken it as a joke.

  The woman who opened the door was sleight of build and had a lost, gaunt look to her eyes. Barden had seen that look in many different faces. Grief was one of the unifying forces which swept across all classes and cultures. As a police officer, he had tried long and hard to become immune to seeing it etched upon people’s faces, but he felt the instant he stopped caring was the instant he ceased being human.

  “Detective Barden,” he said, showing her his identification. “Constable Lees. Miss Appleton, may we come in?”

  She did not answer in words, but moved away from the door and did not close it, so Barden took that as an affirmative. The two officers entered slowly, cautiously, for the house held the scent of grief: the empty, lonely air of longing and wishful thinking. Barden had long believed being an undertaker would have been a cheerier job than dealing with grieving or frightened relatives.

  They moved into the living room, where the distraught young woman had made some attempt to keep house. Going through the daily motions was a good way of taking a person’s mind off tragedy, apparently. Barden did not believe it for a moment, yet it was one of those things people always said to him.

  “Can I get you some tea?” Appleton asked. She looked spaced, distant, and Barden wondered how much she’d had to eat and drink since her boyfriend’s disappearance.

  “Thanks, no,” Barden said, although he did take the seat she offered. Lees remained standing and folded her arms. She looked agitated and he wished she would just calm down a bit. “There’s no news about John,” Barden said to start things off. “You haven’t had any contact with him?”

  “Is that how the investigation’s going?” Appleton asked. “You wait for his body to turn itself in?”

  “In my experience, Miss Appleton, this sort of incident usually has a happy ending.” He had never before dealt with someone falling in the river, but she did not need to know that. The truth was, most drunken brawls ended up with blood and bruises, maybe a broken bone or two, but seldom a fatality. It was this statistic he was determined to hold onto as long as he could. It was his lifeline of hope, and something with which Jennifer Appleton could no doubt sympathise.

  “It was supposed to be a happy evening,” Appleton said distantly. “My sister’s getting married, you see? I was going to drop some hints, get the ball rolling.” She slowly shook her head. “Not so happy after all, was it?”

  “Tell us again what happened,” Lees said. It was something Barden would have avoided if he could, but Lees had not heard it directly from Appleton and perhaps if she did she would see something he had missed.

  “Really?” Appleton asked.

  “I haven’t heard it yet from the horse’s mouth.”

  Barden sensed something odd in the way she said that. It was almost as though Lees was intentionally insulting the other woman. He wondered what had got into her and hoped she knew what she was doing.

  “We were sitting there minding our own business,” she said, “when …”

  “Sitting there in the pub?”

  “Uh, yes. This guy came over. Drunk. He said something to me, something about money.”

  “You don’t remember what he said?”

  “Not exactly, no. He was asking me how much it would cost to hire me, told John he was only with me because he was paying me.”

  “But you don’t recall the exact words?”

  “What? No. Does it matter?”

  Lees paused. “Then what happened?”

  “His two friends pulled him away. One of them apologised.”

  “Then you eventually left the pub. And?”

  Appleton was fighting to keep up with the interrogation. Barden desperately wanted to jump in, to tell Lees this was not the way they should be speaking with the victim’s girlfriend, and again he just hoped she knew where she was going with this.

  “And,” Appleton said, “we saw them. John went over.”

  “To start a fight?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, guy insults his girlfriend, of course John wanted to start a fight.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. But he didn’t start the fight. He just talked.”

  “Who threw the first punch?”

  “I … don’t remember. It’s all blurry.”

  “So it could have been John?”

  “I …”

  “It could have been?”

  “It could, I don’t …”

  “And did you hear anything these three men said to John or what John said to them?”

  “Not all of it, some of it.”

  “How much had you had to drink?”

  “How much? What does that have to …?”

  “How much had you had to drink?”

  “I … a couple.”

  “So John’s been drinking, has been insulted in the pub, and when he leaves he sees three men and goes over to pick a fight with them.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? This drunk man: were his two friends still dragging him away?”

  “No, they were laughing with him.”

  “So they were all drinking and all laughing?”

  “Yeah. Said something about loose change or …”

  “So the three men were acting completely differently outside the pub from when they were inside?”

  “No. I … well, two of them.”

  Barden decided he had been silent long enough. “Constable, is there something you’re getting at?”

  “Just wondering one thing, sir,” Lees said. “Something no one’s taken into consideration. These three men inside the pub and the three outside; who’s to say they were the same three men?”

  “They were,” Appleton all but wailed. “I saw them.”

  “But you’re not even sure what the drunk man said to you in the pub, so maybe you’re not sure what he looked like, either. Maybe you’d had one or two more drinks than you thought you did, steady your nerves after being insulted, so that when you went back outside you latched onto the first trio of men you happened to see. After half an hour, what are the chances of bumping into the same people in so big a crowd?”

  “That’s enough,” Barden snapped, then realised he would have to gain control of the situation while at the same time reassure Appleton that they were still doing everything they could to find her missing boyfriend. “Theorising is good, Constable, but right n
ow all we’re interested in are the facts.”

  “Of course,” Lees said. “Sorry.”

  She did not sound very sorry.

  Barden continued the questioning, although he kept it far lighter. In truth he did not expect to be able to discover anything new, but sometimes memory resurrected something forgotten. Jennifer Appleton was in such a state, however, that Barden doubted he would have been able to get anything useful out of her even if he felt she might have known something.

  He cut off the visit as soon as he could, noting they were leaving the poor woman in a worse state than when they had arrived. He did not say anything to Lees until they got back to the car, and even then he drove away from the house before confronting her about what she had done. Five minutes from earshot of Jennifer Appleton, Barden stopped the car and turned to Lees with a glower.

  “What was all that about?” he barked.

  “She’s hiding something.”

  “She’s not hiding anything.”

  “No? They were a lot more drunk than she’s making out. Those three men Tanner attacked were innocent bystanders. So Tanner ends up in the river? If a giant man like that attacked me, I’d shove him in the river and run away.”

  “That’s not what the other witnesses say.”

  “The only witness we have who was there for the very beginning is Appleton, and she admits she didn’t hear everything that was said. They were afraid for their lives, Ray. That’s why they fought back.”

  “Or they could have been the same three.”

  “Could have been, yes. But we know from all the witnesses that Tanner threw the first punch. At least admit I could be right. Maybe he was drunk and attacked three strangers.”

  Barden did not like to admit any such thing, but what she was saying was true. Tanner and Appleton had been the only two to have seen the three men in the pub, and since Tanner was missing, they only had the word of a distraught girlfriend to go on. Perhaps Tanner had indeed picked a fight with the wrong crowd. And yes, if a giant of a man was starting a fight on a group of drunk lads, they could indeed have thrown him in the river and then legged it.

  Still, it was not the way investigations were handled.

  “A bit of warning next time,” he said and restarted the engine.

  “Which means,” Lees pressed, “this name might be wrong as well. Did any of the witnesses hear the name Harry being spoken? In Appleton’s original statement, she said she heard the name spoken in the pub. Maybe she just thought she heard it repeated outside.”

  That was also something to look into, Barden knew. He had studied those statements over and over and had never seen the name Harry appear in any of them.

  “So,” Lees continued, “Harry could be innocent. Innocent of everything, that is, except for approaching a woman whilst drunk and making lewd comments at her. His friends led him away and probably took him straight home.”

  “Which means we don’t even have a name to go on.” Barden did not like what he was hearing, but it did make sense. “We’re farther back than ever now.”

  “At least we don’t have to waste time chasing down bad leads.”

  “Still, I want to find this Harry anyway. Maybe he wasn’t the same guy, maybe he was. But I want to find him and talk to him. If nothing else, he can give us information on Tanner and Appleton. If his friends were more sober than him, they could tell us how many empties were stacked in front of Tanner. If we can prove Tanner was extremely drunk, at least that’s a step forward.” He did not like to approach the investigation by suspecting the victim, but as a detective he had to cover all angles.

  There was something else he should be admitting to as well.

  “You’re not a half bad detective, Carrie,” he said. “If nothing else, you’ve made me see this case in a different light.”

  “It all helps to get me that promotion, Ray.”

  The promotion had been what had driven her to help him before, but this time Barden could sense there was something else. It was as though Lees had a personal stake in this, as though she had something against Appleton, or maybe even Tanner.

  But that was not something he had to worry about now. First he would solve the case; then he would deal with the mystery that was Constable Caroline Lees.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  She did not have long, but Lees needed to check on Harry. Making an excuse to Barden which sounded feeble even to her own ears, she headed back home with all haste. The night before had been hectic and filled with panic. She had torn Harry’s clothes from him and shoved them into the washing machine. She would likely have to burn them as well, but if they were washed before they were burned, there would be virtually no chance of anyone getting DNA evidence from them. She had told Harry in no uncertain terms not to leave the house until she got back. He had likely spent the past few hours going out of his mind, but she did not care. The more she investigated the case, the worse it was looking for him. As far as Barden was concerned, she knew she had put him off Harry’s scent for a while, but he would be back on it soon enough; and then he would realise the trio in the pub really were the trio John Tanner attacked.

  She and Harry had spoken so very little the night before, but that was one thing he had confirmed when she had insisted he tell her the entire chain of events which had led to his coming home in such a state.

  Harry all but pounced on her as she walked through the door. She could see a hunger in his eyes unlike any she had ever known before. He was so eager for news, she could imagine he had been pacing ever since she had left him. In the time they had been apart, he did not appear to have even had a proper wash. His face was still bleeding, although some of the cuts had dried, most noticeably where Tanner’s ring had cut him. One cheek was a welt of bruising and she could imagine it was extremely painful for him.

  She raised a finger and poked him in the cheek.

  “Ow!”

  “Serves you right,” Lees said. “You’re a mess, Harry. Haven’t you even cleaned yourself up yet?”

  “I’m trying, but it won’t stop bleeding.”

  She could see he was shaking, and the last thing they needed was for him to go into shock. But he could not go to a hospital, which meant he had to take care of the injuries himself. Or, more likely, she would have to once she came home from work. If he could just stop bleeding over the house, she would have been a bit happier.

  She noticed something else which annoyed her.

  “Shoes,” she said. “You’re wearing the trainers from last night.”

  “So?”

  “Burn them. Hold on, you haven’t been walking around the house in them, have you?”

  “So what?”

  “God, you idiot. I’ll have to deep clean all the carpets now. You’ll have stepped in Tanner’s blood, you fool.”

  “There’s no blood on my shoes, Carrie. Tell me what happened.”

  “There are always traces. You want to put your faith in my forensics guys not being able to do their jobs properly?”

  “I am not burning these trainers. Do you know how much they cost me?”

  “They’ll cost you twenty years if you don’t burn them.”

  Harry backed down. The threat seemed to have mollified him somewhat, but she had not been saying such things to make him angry. This was far more serious than he seemed to be taking it and it was good to see he understood the importance of what she was trying to do for him. She was trying so hard to become a detective and instead was harbouring the primary suspect in a potential murder investigation.

  “I’ll burn the shoes,” he said meekly.

  “You do that. Later. Tanner’s body hasn’t turned up yet. We’re still hoping it won’t. Maybe it’s washed out to sea, maybe he’s still alive, I don’t know.”

  “He has to be still alive. Falling in the river doesn’t kill you.”

  “No, because no one in the history of the human race has ever drowned, have they?” She knew she was becoming facetious, but his idiocy was driving he
r insane. “We have to calm ourselves, stay in control. It’s the only way we’re going to see this through. Calm and controlled. We have to think through every step logically, stay one step ahead of the investigation.”

  “Yeah, we have to fool the cops.”

  “I am the cops, you idiot.”

  In all the confusion it seemed Harry had forgotten that. It was something Lees found she had to continually repeat to herself in order for it to stay firmly in her mind.

  “All right,” Harry said. “Logically, then. There’s no body. Logically, they can’t charge me with anything even if they did manage to catch me. Do they know what I look like?”

  “There were enough witnesses for Ray to come up with a good idea, yes.”

  “Who’s Ray?”

  “The detective who’s going to put you away if we make even one bad move. It’s Appleton we have to worry about. I think I’ve convinced Ray that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but that won’t last forever.”

  “Who’s Appleton?”

  Lees’s mind was working so frantically she had forgotten Harry was not present with her all through the morning. His name had come up so often it was as though he had been watching over her. “The girl you leered over. Why were you leering over girls in bars anyway?”

  “How should I know? I was plastered.”

  “She says it was about money.”

  “I thought we weren’t taking her word for anything because she’s confused?”

  “Don’t toss my words back at me, Harry. Is this how you spend Friday nights with the boys? Picking fights with people bigger than you and making crass comments to women?”

  “I wasn’t picking a fight with anybody. Can we just get back to saving my neck?”

  “If it was worth saving, maybe I would. I went to see Appleton this morning. You know what struck me about her? The one thing I noticed?”

  “Shock me.”

  “She’s a pretty thing. Of all the girls in the pub for you to leer over, it has to be a pretty one.”

  “So I’m cheating on you now? Is that it?”

  Lees did not know what she was accusing him of exactly, but shouting at each other was a good way of venting steam. As soon as she realised that this was all she was doing, she realised also it was a waste of time. She had come home briefly for a reason, and it wasn’t so they could get into an argument. And she would have to get back to Barden very soon, else he was going to wonder what had happened to her. The last thing she needed was Barden suspecting her of something.

 

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