‘Yes, sir. Chief Inspector Chambers has tasked A and C Sections to assist us with the searches. A Section will concentrate on searching the property. C Section will concentrate on searching the grounds and recovering the Ford Transit if it’s there.’
‘Excellent. Have you informed the Vehicle Examiners to be ready with a full lift?’
‘They’re going to be standing by at Mansfield Police Station. I’ve also contacted Scenes of Crime and warned them that sometime tomorrow, we’ll be needing the forensic examination bay at headquarters.’
‘Good. In the morning, I want you to accompany the SOU lads when they’re doing the searches. It’s always useful to have one of our team on the ground with them. It helps to prioritise what needs seizing.’
‘No problem. The raids are due to take place at six thirty tomorrow morning, and the SOU teams are going to be here for the briefing at six o’clock. It was always my intention to brief them myself anyway. I’ll just travel in with them to the premises.’
‘Okay. Right, Rob, how did you get on at the Magistrates Courts?’
‘It was a lot easier getting a Misuse of Drugs Act warrant sworn out than it would have been trying to get a Section 8 PACE warrant, that’s for sure. I’ve stipulated that, as well as the main house, the warrant covers all the outbuildings and any vehicles found within the grounds of Tall Trees.’
‘Excellent. Do we anticipate any problems fetching them both in?’
Detective Sergeant Wills spoke up. ‘No problems, boss. I’ve fired a call in this evening to the Social Services so they can have someone on call, ready to temporarily take over running the home. The residents will be looked after as normal by the staff who are on duty. As it’s a weekday, a lot of the kids will be going to school anyway.’
Danny acknowledged Andy’s comments and then continued, ‘Right, Rob, I want you to arrest Caroline Short on suspicion of supplying class A drugs. Andy, you nick Bill Short for the same thing. Let’s hope we find some drugs in the place; it will make life a whole lot easier. Talking of finding drugs, has anybody spoken to the dog section?’
Brian said, ‘I called them after speaking to Chief Inspector Chambers at the Special Operations Unit. Because it’s such short notice, the best they can do is provide us with a specialist drugs dog later in the morning, around eight thirty. The handler of the drugs dog doesn’t go off duty until two in the morning, but he’s willing to come back on duty at eight. He will be at Tall Trees for eight thirty.’
Danny was thoughtful. ‘I think that’s everything. Have the interview teams been fully briefed?’
Rob said, ‘Yes. I’ll be supervising the interviews, and I’ve no doubt you’ll be around the cell block yourself for most of the day.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be down there at some stage … Right, if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you all at six o’clock tomorrow morning for the briefing.’
Everybody left the office, leaving Danny alone with his thoughts. He began to mull over the various outcomes of the scheduled arrests and searches planned for tomorrow.
The shrill ringing of the telephone on his desk snapped him back to the present. He grabbed the phone and said, ‘DCI Flint.’
‘Sir, it’s Tina Prowse. I’m glad I caught you. I just wanted to give you an update on the Wade enquiry.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’m afraid it’s bad news, sir. Steve Thorne died earlier today. As soon as we heard the news, I contacted the hospital. I’ve instructed the staff not to remove any of the life-support systems that had been keeping him alive, as we would need to seize them as evidence.’
‘Why the hell weren’t we informed of the situation?’
‘I can’t answer that, sir, but I’ve managed to prevent any problems evidentially. We’re on our way over to the hospital in Worksop to take possession of all the intubation equipment, tubes, cannulas, etc. so we can exhibit them. Steve Thorne’s body is currently in the mortuary at Worksop Hospital.’
‘Well done. That could have caused us a right headache if all the medical equipment had just been binned. How did you find out?’
‘We were carrying out another enquiry at Rampton Hospital just after the news had come through there.’
‘I’ll contact Seamus Carter and see if he’s going to be available to carry out the post-mortem as soon as possible. Apart from that awful news, how are things progressing up there? Did you find the missing male nurse?’
‘No, we didn’t, and there’s definitely something strange going on. We started by going to see the duty inspector, as you suggested. He immediately directed us out to the cottage at Dunham, where we spoke to the officer who had initially been called to the property this morning. It’s very bizarre. When she arrived this morning, the front door was wide open, the lights and the telly were on, and the tenant’s car was parked on the road outside. The tenant, Jack Williams, was nowhere to be seen. There’s no sign of any struggle. It’s as though he’s just disappeared into thin air.’
‘Do you think his disappearance could be connected to Wade?’
‘I didn’t at first, but then we went to Rampton and spoke to Staff Nurse Brian Atkins. He’s Jack Williams’s line manager. He informed us that another nurse had failed to turn up for work the day before. This was another nurse by the name of Fred Barnes. It subsequently turns out that both the missing nurses were directly involved in the supervision of Jimmy Wade. Atkins also let slip that both men tended to be somewhat heavy-handed with the prisoners in their charge.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that. After you’ve finished at the hospital tonight, get over to Barnes’s house and see if he’s there. I don’t care how late it is, check the address and see if he’s home. If he isn’t there, leave it for tonight, but make sure you’re both back there first thing tomorrow morning, to search the address.’
‘Do you think Wade could be involved in their disappearance?’
‘I wouldn’t like to be either of those two nurses if he is. Revenge is never pretty, and if Jimmy Wade’s involved, it could be positively horrific.
‘In the meantime, I’ll get Seamus Carter to contact you direct at Worksop Hospital. Good work today. While you’re on the phone, I’ll give you a quick update from this end. We’re arresting Caroline and Bill Short tomorrow morning. At the same time, we’ll be executing a Misuse of Drugs Act warrant on the property at Tall Trees.’
There was a measure of incredulity in Tina’s voice as she asked, ‘A Drugs Act warrant?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll update you fully sometime tomorrow. If Barnes is at home, safe and well, call me and let me know. It doesn’t matter what the time is; I need to know that he’s okay. If I don’t hear from you tonight, I’ll take it he’s not there and that you’ll be commencing further enquiries in the morning.’
‘Okay, sir, will do. Good luck with the warrant tomorrow.’
44
25 June 1986
Retford, Nottinghamshire
After meeting Seamus Carter at Worksop Hospital, Tina and Rachel had bagged up the life-support items as they were removed from the body of Steve Thorne. All the items had been correctly exhibited and labelled and would now form part of the evidential chain, which had come so close to being irreparably broken.
With the items safely placed in the correct store at Worksop Police Station, the two detectives had then driven over to the home address of Fred Barnes.
Rachel parked the car directly outside 74 Vicarage Terrace.
Tina said, ‘That’s his car up the road, the Mini Metro. I got the registration number from his file at Rampton.’
Rachel replied, ‘That’s good. Maybe he’s at home, then.’
The detectives got out of the car and approached the front door of the two-up two-down terraced house. The front yard was tiny. It was literally two steps from the gate to the front door. The yard was concreted and had a single forlorn-looking conifer in an earthenware tub to one side of the front door. The windows were covered by thick net curtains, and the
house was in darkness.
Rachel pressed the doorbell on the heavy, windowless door. She could hear the chimes inside the house.
There was no answer.
Rachel pressed the doorbell again, with the same result. In frustration, she bunched her fist and banged loudly on the front door.
There was still no response, and no movement within the house.
The next-door neighbour opened her door and demanded, ‘Who’s doing all the banging?’
Rachel said, ‘We’re from the CID. We need to speak to Mr Barnes.’
The elderly woman squinted at Rachel and said, ‘The CID? Is that the same as the police?’
‘Yes, it is. We’re detectives from the police. It’s really important we talk to Mr Barnes tonight. Is he in?’
‘Doesn’t look like it, does it, sweetheart? If he hasn’t answered the door after all that racket.’
‘Have you seen him at all lately?’
‘I haven’t, sweetheart. Not seen him for a few days now. You should try the pub at the end of the road; he’s always in there. Goes in most nights now he’s on his own.’
‘Okay, thanks. We’ll try the pub. At the end of this road, you said?’
‘Yes, sweetheart. The one on the corner, the Crown and Anchor.’
Rachel started to say thank you, but the woman had already slammed the front door shut.
Tina grinned and said, ‘Shall we try the pub, sweetheart?’
Rachel smiled back. ‘What a good idea, sweetheart. Apparently he’s always in there.’
‘Now he’s on his own, sweetheart.’
They both laughed and walked back up the dark street, towards the pub.
The Crown and Anchor was a typical backstreet pub. It had one entrance door that was situated right on the corner of the building.
The pub sign swung precariously above the entrance and depicted the name of the establishment, with a poor painting of a crown above a ship’s anchor. From the outside, it was obvious the pub had seen better days. The opaque glass windows were in desperate need of cleaning, and the frames hadn’t seen a coat of paint for years.
Rachel said, ‘This looks like my kind of place.’
‘Doesn’t it just,’ replied Tina.
Rachel opened the door, and they both walked in.
The pub only had one room. The bar was on the left, and there were bench seats around the other three walls, with a few tables and chairs scattered around the room.
In front of the bar were half a dozen bar stools. Three of the stools were occupied by elderly men nursing half-drunk pints of beer. The only other people in the pub were two middle-aged women sitting at a table in the far corner, who were chatting animatedly in between sipping from two half-pint glasses of Mackeson stout.
There was a young barman standing alone behind the bar.
The air around the bar was thick with smoke, as the three men on the bar stools were all smoking cigarettes. The ashtrays in front of them were steadily piling up with ash and dog ends. The men weren’t talking to each other. With sullen expressions, they stared straight ahead, looking over the tops of their half-drunk pints of bitter.
As the two detectives approached the bar, the somewhat surprised barman smiled and said, ‘What can I get you ladies?’
He had a friendly face, and his smile revealed even white teeth. He had blonde hair that was quite long and parted down the middle. He wore a white Levi’s T-shirt and faded blue Levi’s jeans. Rachel thought to herself that he wouldn’t have looked out of place serving cocktails in a trendy town centre bar. In here, he looked like an intruder. He didn’t belong in these surroundings.
As if reading the detective’s mind, the barman said hastily, ‘I’m on my summer holiday from uni in Cornwall. I’m just helping my dad out for a few weeks.’
Rachel said, ‘Cornwall, eh! Well, that would explain the surfer look, then.’
She smiled and continued, ‘My name’s Detective Constable Rachel Moore. I’m trying to trace a man by the name of Fred Barnes. I’ve been told that this is his local, and he’s a regular in here. Do you know him?’
The barman returned her smile and said, ‘Everyone in here knows the old soldier. In a previous life, Fred was in the army. He never gets tired of telling you what he got up to as an enlisted man. That’s his stool right there.’
The barman indicated an empty stool at the far end of the bar.
Tina asked, ‘When did you last see Fred?’
‘Let’s see, he was in a couple of days ago. Haven’t seen him since.’
‘What time was that?’
‘He popped in for a couple of beers after work. I served him. He had a few pints of bitter, then left.’
‘How did he seem?’
The barman looked puzzled. ‘How did he seem?’
‘How was his demeanour? Did he seem okay?’
‘He was just Fred. As usual, he’d been thrilling us all with his tales of heroism in the army.’
Rachel said, ‘Was it the usual crowd in that night?’
‘I wouldn’t exactly call it a crowd, but yeah, pretty much. I can’t remember if Doris and Flo were in that night.’
His eyes flicked over to the two women sipping stout in the corner.
‘No one unusual in the bar that night? Any strangers? They would definitely stand out in here, wouldn’t they?’
‘They would that. No. Wait a minute, there was something strange that night.’
‘What was that?’ urged Rachel.
‘I remember seeing a really fit blonde walk in while Fred was still here. She looked around and then walked straight out again. I never even got a chance to ask her if she wanted a drink. I remember her though; she had obviously taken her time with her make-up, and she was wearing sexy clothes. She looked gorgeous, and as you can see, we don’t get a lot of gorgeous around here.’
‘So after this mystery blonde had come in and gone out again, how soon was it that Fred left?’
‘Almost immediately. He finished his pint, didn’t want another, and left.’
‘And you haven’t seen him since.’
‘No.’
‘Do you think he saw the blonde woman?’
‘I wouldn’t know for sure, but I doubt it, as he had his back to the door.’
‘Do you have any CCTV in the pub?’
‘No, we haven’t got anything like that. It’s only a small backstreet boozer.’
‘Has your dad or any of the other bar staff seen him?’
‘There’s only me working the bar at the moment. My dad’s not been well. That’s why I’ve come home for the summer, to help him out. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the pub when I go back to uni next month. The joke you made about surfing, that was actually bang on. I usually spend all my holidays and weekends in Devon or Cornwall surfing.’
Rachel smiled at the young barman.
Tina asked, ‘Do any of your customers know Fred?’
‘They all know him, but as you can see, none of them are what you would call talkative. That’s why I always remember when Fred’s been in. At least he has a conversation with you, even if it is boring as fuck. Sorry, ladies; pardon my French.’
Rachel wrote her name and the telephone number of the MCIU onto a beer mat, handed it across the bar and said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t ask you before, what’s your name?’
‘My name’s Ben. Ben Jackson.’
‘Okay, Ben, this is the number for the Major Crime Investigation Unit. If Fred Barnes comes in for a beer anytime soon, would you give me a call straight away, please?’
Ben looked at the beer mat. ‘Definitely. If he comes in, I’ll call you. Can I ask, is Fred in any trouble?’
‘He’s not in any trouble, but we are starting to get worried about him.’
‘No problem. If I see him, I’ll give you a call. Now would you like a drink? It’s on the house.’
‘That’s truly kind of you, Ben, but we’re on duty, so better not. Thanks anyway. Another time, maybe.’
‘I’d like that.’
Rachel smiled and followed Tina as she walked out of the pub.
Outside, Tina said, ‘How do you do that?’
‘How do I do what?’
‘You can get men of all ages, shapes and sizes eating out of your hand in minutes.’
Rachel laughed. ‘It’s either all to do with these big brown eyes, or it’s witchcraft. I’m not sure yet.’
Laughing, Tina turned to walk back to the car.
Something glinted in the gutter, catching her attention.
A shiny object had reflected the feeble street light. Tina walked over and bent down, retrieving the metal object from the dirty gutter.
‘Look at this.’
She held up a stainless-steel cigarette lighter and said, ‘It’s engraved on the back.
Holding it up to get the maximum light from the street light, she said, ‘It says “Guardsman Frederick Barnes,” and there’s some sort of regimental badge on it.’
‘Hang on a sec. I’ve got an exhibit bag in here somewhere.’
After rooting through her handbag, Rachel finally came up with a self-sealing evidence bag. Tina dropped the lighter in the bag and said, ‘Come on, Rachel.’
She turned and walked straight back into the Crown and Anchor.
Ben said, ‘Changed your mind about that drink?’
Tina said, ‘No, Ben, we haven’t, sorry. Have a look at this lighter. Do you recognise it?’
‘Of course, I’ve seen it enough. That’s Fred’s; it’s got his name on it. I’ve heard the story countless times. He was presented with that lighter by his mates in the army when he left. It’s got to be one of his most prized possessions. Where did you get it?’
‘I found it in the gutter outside the pub just now.’
‘That’s weird. He would never lose that; he loved that bloody lighter.’
Rachel said, ‘Thanks, Ben. Don’t forget to call me if you see Fred.’
‘I won’t forget. I hope he’s okay.’
Once again, the two detectives walked out of the pub and back along Eastern Avenue towards their car.
Tina said, ‘What are you thinking?’
A Cold Grave: A DCI Danny Flint Book Page 16