Hunted on the Fens

by Joy Ellis

  She let out a loud sigh of frustration. She wanted some help from the CID office, and she wanted a bloody printer. She also wanted some relief from the pain in her leg. It seemed to be getting worse, even although she was being given brain-blasting amounts of analgesics.

  If only she could get home. It would be so much easier.

  She put the laptop to one side and closed her eyes. When her doctor arrived for the daily ward round, she would ask about getting out. She was sure that she had less chance of picking up an infection in her own home. And she could work from there. She was absolutely certain that the team could use some of the information she had in her head and on the dozens of scribbled scraps of paper that were strewn across her bed.

  She let out a soft curse, knowing that there was no one there to hear her. It was such a bloody unbelievable thing to happen. In the middle of a big murder enquiry, she gets hurt and completely cut off from her team, and that was without the trauma of seeing a colleague murdered right in front of you.

  The sight of Danny Wilshire flying forward on the grill of the Barbarian still came to her in flashes and, depressingly, she knew they probably always would. All she could hope for was that the passing of time would make them less vivid, and the emotions tied inextricably to them, less raw.

  She opened her eyes. Right now the best she could do was to keep working.

  With a heavy heart, she pulled the laptop back towards her and, trying to push the pain away, stepped back into the secret world of Magda Hellekamp.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  At just before 9 a.m., “WPC” Tamsin Easter and PC Niall Farrow walked purposefully across the car park, got into Niall’s car and drove quickly from the police station. Joseph watched from a first floor window and decided that there was nothing about their departure to give the slightest cause for suspicion. His daughter, her hair pushed neatly beneath the borrowed uniform bowler, and wearing a Hi-Viz vest complete with radio, and black trousers with an equipment belt, looked every inch the regular young beat bobby. Joseph looked after the departing car and felt a rush of love sweep over him. He had tried hard in the past to make things right. Now he would try even harder. A little more effort and he might . . . he might just get his daughter back.

  ‘Joseph?’ Nikki dragged him back to the present. ‘The super wants us in his office in ten.’ She watched over his shoulder as the tail end of Niall’s car disappeared from view. ‘Now we just have to wait for the call to say that she’s safe with her mother.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I’ve made them promise to check in with me on the throw-away number every hour.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I swear she only agreed to go because Niall said she could use his new Air Gesture Galaxy S4 Smart phone.’

  ‘What the hell? Air what?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t ask me. Technology is getting beyond me too.’

  ‘Technology.’ Nikki’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘So much of this case comes back to technology, doesn’t it? Maybe we should run covert checks on everyone on the staff or affiliated to us who has expert knowledge in that field? What do you think?’

  Joseph puffed out his cheeks. ‘Maybe we should, although everyone within the station, both police officers and civilians, are vetted at the highest level.’

  ‘It won’t hurt to double check. I’ll tell Jim Hunter and maybe he could get his team to put that in motion.’ She picked up the phone and after a few moments, thanked her colleague and replaced the receiver. ‘He agrees and he’s going to check everyone from the cybercrime unit and the IT specialists, to the guys who installed the security cameras. It might be a waste of time, but on the other hand . . .’ she shrugged. ‘With Snipe, we can’t afford to leave anything to chance.’

  ‘DI Galena! Got something for you.’ Sheila Robbins, the office manager, called across, waving a large brown envelope. ‘It’s marked urgent and it’s from Professor Wilkinson.’

  Nikki hurried over and took the envelope, tearing it open almost before it had left Sheila’s hands. ‘It’s the DNA report on the blood found in the boot of my car.’ She read the report, then looked at him, her expression a mixture of disbelief and shock.

  ‘Well? Is it anyone known to us?’ he asked urgently.

  ‘Not in the sense you mean. I mean, it’s not a criminal. It’s . . .’

  Joseph realised that she was having trouble coming to terms with what she was reading. He reached out and took the report from her.

  DNA analysis has identified a match from records already on our database. Blood from crime scene belongs to Brian Anthony Faulkner. No present details on file.

  Joseph looked at Nikki and frowned. The name that had drained the colour from her face meant nothing to him.

  ‘He was my first skipper, Joseph. He retired years ago with poor health. He’s a highly decorated officer.’ She looked at him with sadness in her eyes, but anger on her lips. ‘He’s one of us, Joseph, and his blood was in my boot.’

  * * *

  Rick Bainbridge stood behind his desk and stared down at the DNA result. It was several moments before he spoke.

  ‘I haven’t heard from Brian in years. He was sick for a long while.’

  ‘Sick in what way?’ asked Joseph.

  ‘He was dealing with a bad case, Sergeant. A very bad case, and he probably did himself no favours by working on when he should have backed off.’ Rick lowered himself down into his chair. ‘He took early retirement and,’ he shrugged, his face a mask of regret, ‘I’m sad to say, we lost touch. I heard that he became something of a recluse, and I have no idea where he is now.’

  ‘Me neither,’ added Nikki. ‘Yvonne is running a search for me. Hopefully we’ll track him through the electoral roll or utilities.’

  ‘Is there anyone left at the station who remained friends with him that you know of? Someone who may know where he lives?’

  Nikki shook her head. ‘The only one that I know of who kept in contact for a while was Bob Wilshire.’ She drew in air. ‘And of course, he’s dead.’

  ‘And so is his son, so we can’t even ask him.’

  Nikki’s face tightened. ‘Ironic, isn’t it? Brian is one of our own. We don’t know where he is, but bloody Snipe does.’

  Rick nodded gravely. ‘I’m forced to think that whoever Snipe is, he knows you very well, Nikki. ‘Few people would recall Brian, and that he was your uniformed sergeant.’

  ‘And he was Bob Wilshire’s too,’ said Joseph slowly. ‘I wonder if there’s something in that.’ He looked thoughtfully at the superintendent. ‘Like a connection to a case that DI Galena and Bob Wilshire were involved in?’

  ‘Then get one of your team to look into it.’ Rick ran a hand over his deep-set, craggy brow. ‘I don’t need to tell you how urgent it is that we identify this Snipe. I am very troubled that he knows so much about us and we know sod all about him.’

  ‘Aren’t we all, sir,’ muttered Nikki.

  ‘What is most frightening is his complete lack of compassion. He is brutal and merciless, and he knows our weak points too damn well. He’s playing a vicious game and only he knows the rules.’ He stood up again and began to pace his office. ‘I notice that when he rang you this time, there was no mention of this compensation, was there?’

  ‘None. He said only what I told you.’ She stood up. ‘I’d better go and see what Yvonne has found. And we need to go visit Windsor Morton, Jeremy Bow and the French family. I’ll tell you the minute we know something.’

  As they left, Joseph glanced back and saw Rick Bainbridge sitting stock still, staring at some point in the distance. His eyes were filled with worry, and also something Joseph decided was reproach. Maybe the super and Brian Faulkner had been buddies? But everyone knows that as time moves on, some old friendships falter.

  As he closed the door, Joseph thought that perhaps that particular friendship had not faltered but failed, and Rick Bainbridge was suffering because he had failed too.

  * * *

  Ni
kki approached her office door and saw Dave hurrying towards her. At first she thought he had some news about one of the cases. Then she noticed the pallor of his face and that his clothes looked as if they had been slept in.

  ‘Sorry, I’m late in, ma’am, but I need to talk to you urgently.’ He glanced around, ‘and sarge as well if he’s available.’

  Nikki beckoned to Joseph who was just about to check his computer for messages.

  Once inside the office she closed the door. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’

  Dave slumped into a chair, then leaned forward and handed her a sheaf of papers. ‘This,’ he said wretchedly, ‘this is what’s wrong.’

  Nikki took the papers and saw that they were bank statements. She looked at them, realised immediately why the man was so distraught, then passed them to Joseph. ‘When did you discover this, Dave?’

  ‘Last night. I received a couple of letters asking for payment of outstanding bills, and I have no outstanding bills, ma’am. Never.’

  Joseph let out a low whistle. ‘This big account, Dave, what was it?’

  ‘My wife’s parents left her their house when they died. Because my wages were sufficient for our needs, we sold it and banked the money into that high-interest account.’ He looked miserably at them. ‘We’ve never needed to touch it, but I know that because of my wife’s care home bills, I’ll be dipping into it pretty soon.’ He paused, then added, ‘We were going to use it for our retirement, for some fun. I don’t know why, but we never once considered illness, let alone poor Margaret succumbing to Alzheimer’s.’

  Nikki shuddered at the word Alzheimer’s, and wondered how often that happened. That wonderful planned retirement, nipped in the bud for one of a dozen awful reasons. ‘You’ve reported this, Dave?’

  ‘I phoned the bank immediately.’

  ‘And now you need to log it as a crime.’ Nikki looked across to Joseph, ‘It’s Snipe, isn’t it? He’s played another dirty hand in his poxy game.’

  ‘Almost certainly.’ Joseph handed back the paperwork to Nikki. ‘But hang on in there, mate. We’ll get it sorted.’

  ‘But, Sarge, he’s taken everything I have. And what about Margaret? I can’t pay the nursing home, I can’t pay the mortgage, I can’t even fill my car!’

  ‘I’m going to tell the super.’ Nikki stood up, clasping the statements. ‘Come with me, Dave. He’ll get things moving for you.’ She gripped Dave’s arm as she moved towards the door. ‘Try not to panic. As long as you can prove that you keep your computer up to date with security protection, most banks will ensure that you don’t lose your money. But Rick Bainbridge will know exactly what to do.’

  * * *

  As Nikki and Dave hurried towards the lift, Joseph returned to his computer. The first thing he saw when he accessed his emails was a message from Cat.

  Hi Sarge. Need to see you. Can you come and visit? Have found some interesting info on Windmill. Make it soon, please! Cat.

  Joseph skimmed through the other stuff in his in-box but nothing needed immediate attention so he pulled out his private phone and rang her mobile.

  She answered almost immediately. ‘Sarge?’ Brilliant! Can you get over here?’

  ‘I’ll try, but things are pretty fraught here.’ He told her about Dave’s problem.

  ‘Shit! That’s awful! Poor Dave, he must be beside himself.’

  ‘He’s well cut up about it, and so would I be.’

  ‘Listen, Sarge, tell him I have some money, not a fortune, but enough to tide him over until the bank sorts things out for him.’

  Joseph smiled to himself. That was Cat for you. No hesitation. A mate needed help and there she was. ‘I’ll tell him as soon as he’s back from the super’s office.’ He stared at his monitor as they spoke, and noticed a new message from Ireland. He opened it and saw a request to ring Liam Feehily.

  ‘Look, Cat, can you tell me what it is you’ve uncovered?’

  ‘Not over the phone, Sarge. We need to talk face to face. And I need a notepad, a big one. A4 size, with lots of pages.’

  ‘What exactly are you doing? This doesn’t sound like rest and recuperation to me.’

  ‘As good as. I’m trying to stay sane.’

  ‘And your injuries? How are they coming along?’

  There was a sigh from the other end. ‘They are not coming along anywhere near fast enough for my liking. The doc should be here soon and I’m going to tell him I want out, but until this infection in my leg backs off, I can’t see it happening. That’s why I need to see you.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll get there. I just need to clear it with the boss, and I have a call that I’m expecting, from Tamsin. I’ll take that, then I’ll see you, okay?’

  ‘Thanks, Sarge. Much appreciated. And it’ll be worth it, I promise.’

  After he hung up, Joseph smiled. He had known from the start that she wouldn’t be using her iPad for playing Candy Crush Saga.

  ‘How is she?’ Yvonne Collins walked up to his desk.

  ‘Impatient. Bored. In pain. Frustrated. You name it and Cat is suffering from it.’

  ‘And she will until she gets back here where she belongs.’ Yvonne shook her head. ‘I think we’d all feel the same.’

  Joseph agreed, then added. ‘Any luck on tracing Brian Faulkner?’

  ‘That’s what I need to talk to you about, Sarge. It’s nothing definite, but I do have a hunch where he is.’ She walked over to a large wall map of their area. ‘There’s a cottage, way out here on Silent Fen.’ She stabbed her finger on a remote part of the marsh, ‘It’s tucked away down a lane that used to lead to the old Dredger’s Quay, but that place was demolished years ago when the new docking area was built nearer the estuary. It’s a real ramshackle cottage that still uses well water and has an outside karzy. Know the kind of place I mean?’

  He nodded and looked at her with interest. ‘Why do you think Faulkner is there?’

  ‘Well, according to the records, the place is owned by a Mrs Marion Weir, but I know for a fact that it is inhabited by a single man. Niall and I had to go out there a couple of months back when some kids burnt out a stolen car on the marsh. I saw him then, although he didn’t want to talk to us.’

  ‘You think it’s him?’

  ‘I’ve just checked the archives and found his service record and his personal details, Sarge. His mother’s name was Marion, and after her husband died she married again, to an Arthur Weir. She is now dead, and I guess Brian is living in his mother’s old place.’

  Joseph grinned at her. ‘Well, I’d say you’ve located him. Well done, Yvonne.’ He stood up and pushed his chair back. ‘I’ll get uniform out there immediately.’ He paused. ‘I think you should go with them. You can show them where the cottage is, then you can report back what you find.’

  Yvonne nodded quickly. ‘Of course, sir. I’ll go check with the duty sergeant.’

  As she hurried away, Joseph’s phone rang. ‘Dad? WPC Easter reporting in. Niall says to tell you that we are making good time with no problems to report.’

  Joseph allowed himself a sigh of relief. ‘That’s excellent. Where are you?’

  ‘Somewhere near Wetherby, or so I’m told by my chauffeur, or should I call him my crew-mate? Which reminds me, Dad, could you ask Yvonne if I can keep the uniform? It would be so useful!’

  ‘And so against the law. The answer is an emphatic no.’

  ‘Spoilsport.’

  ‘Ring again in an hour, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Dad. Now, stop worrying, we’re fine. Speak later.’

  Joseph rang off and glanced across to Nikki’s office, but it was still empty. He wanted to get over to the hospital but as he’d just sent Yvonne out, and Dave was temporarily indisposed, felt he should hold the fort until he’d spoken to Nikki.

  The name Liam called to him from his monitor screen. Joseph dialled his number.

  ‘Ah, my favourite Brit! Thanks for phoning back.’

  ‘It’s just a quickie, Doc. I’m up to my proverbial in muck an
d bullets. So what’s happening?

  ‘Quite a lot, as it happens. And I’m really grateful to you for putting me on to that Dutch police officer regarding my evil syndicate in Derry.’

  ‘Any progress?’

  ‘Our combined intel has already brought in two suspects in Holland, and one arrest on my home soil.’

  ‘That’s good news indeed.’

  ‘Isn’t it? And for once the timing was perfect for my arrest. My man had just held his first baby son in his arms and strangely, his view of the world has suddenly changed. We might just have a supergrass, if we play our cards right.’

  Joseph could feel Liam’s excitement pouring down the phone to him. ‘Excellent! You don’t often find that kind of luck on your side, even if you are Irish.’

  ‘Very true, my friend. Anyway, I thought you’d like to know a few little nuggets of information that have come our way.’

  ‘Any crumbs from your table would be gratefully received.’

  ‘One. Although this network of criminals is multinational with a heavy presence in the UK and Northern Ireland, we now know its HQ is based in Amsterdam. And two. Aaron Keller was the numero uno hit man, and they are very worried indeed by the news of his sad demise. It has been intimated that there are certain jobs that only he could have undertaken, and some of their clients are less than happy bunnies.’

  ‘Ah, trouble at mill?’

  ‘Big trouble. And they are not going to find it easy to replace him. Thankfully, cold-blooded executioners with his years of expertise are not two a penny.’ Liam gave a chuckle. ‘Oh, my heart bleeds!’

  ‘Ditto.’ Joseph saw from the corner of his eye that Nikki was entering her office.