End Result

by M A Comley

  “I’d say the latter. No sign of attempted mugging. I checked his pockets and found a few coins, and there was a ten-pound note in his wallet.”

  “Any ID?”

  Gerrard shook his head. “Not that I could find.”

  “Great. Anything else of significance, Doc?”

  “Not really. Of course, I’ll know more once the examination has been carried out.”

  “Okay. Julie, can you take some pictures? Maybe the doc can turn the victim over for a second or two?”

  “Sure, I’ve carried out all the necessary tests and evidence bagging I need to do.” Gerrard gently eased the body over on the ground.

  Julie inhaled a sharp breath.

  “What’s wrong? Do you recognise him?” Hero asked.

  “No. I just don’t like looking at someone once their throat is slit open like that.”

  Hero held out his hand. “Camera. I’ll do it.” He fired off several shots then handed the camera back to his partner. “Let’s call it a day and start afresh tomorrow, all right?”

  “I’ll carry out the post mortem tomorrow and get back to you with the results, hopefully sometime in the afternoon, Inspector,” Gerrard said before instructing his team to place the body in a bag.

  Hero accompanied Julie back to where their cars were parked, bid her farewell, and drove home. Despite being on the wagon, he decided to pour himself a glass of brandy. He deserved a treat since he’d just become a proper father for the first time in his life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next morning, after calling in at the hospital for a brief visit with his family, who were all sleeping when he got there, Hero walked into the incident room to a round of applause from his colleagues. One of the older members of the team, Lance Powell, approached him, obviously as the spokesperson for the group. He awkwardly held out a cute four-inch teddy bear to Hero. “Umm…‌congratulations to you and Mrs. Nelson, sir. The team had a whip round and bought you this.”

  Hero stifled the smirk dying to escape and nodded as he accepted the toy. “Thanks, Lance. I’ll make sure the twins don’t fight over it.”

  Powell’s face dropped, and he glanced over his shoulder at the team standing behind him. Several of the others raised a hand to cover their sniggers of embarrassment. Powell turned to face Hero again and shrugged. “Sorry, sir.”

  Hero patted Lance on the shoulder. “Never mind, Powell. It’s the thought that counts. Thanks, everyone. Now let’s get back to work. Julie, step into my office, will you?”

  He heard Julie trotting behind him as he pushed open the door to his office and walked in.

  After they were both seated, Julie took out her notebook, and Hero nodded for her to proceed.

  “Well, I thought I’d run off the photos first thing and see if they match anyone on the database. I’ll send uniformed officers around the area where the crime was committed today to start the house-to-house enquiries, just in case someone heard anything last night.”

  “Do we know the time of death?”

  “The pathologist was uncertain about that, but he reckoned around seven or eight. Early enough for someone to have heard or witnessed something, I guess.”

  “If that’s the case, it means the victim had probably spent the afternoon in a pub, a nearby pub, getting pissed. Either ring round or get someone to pay the pubs in the area a visit.”

  “Will do, sir.” Julie rose from the table and left without saying anything further.

  Before tackling his boring, mostly non-essential paperwork, Hero reflected on what they knew about the case so far. He started jotting down notes for possible motives for the attack, always the type to think of every probable angle during a case. Mugging had already been ruled out, unless the muggers had made off with a large sum of money and intentionally left the small stuff. That was a possibility. He also included “gang related” in his list. Hero had witnessed several heinous gang-turf crimes over the years. One of his most recent cases had been a prime example. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of the notorious Krull Gang. In the end, they had attempted to bully the wrong person, and he’d made them pay as retribution for the loved ones the gang had murdered. Domestic dispute was always worth considering. Maybe his team should be considering some form of love triangle.

  Mid-way through the morning, Hero finished his paperwork and went in search of his partner, to see what she’d managed to find out about the victim, if anything. Julie was the type who expected people to come to her for news about an investigation rather than volunteering the information as soon as she discovered anything relevant. It was a constant source of irritation to Hero, and he hadn’t quite found a tactful means of correcting it. He perched on the desk next to Julie’s. “What have we got?”

  Without taking her eyes off the screen, she informed him, “I’ve got a name for the victim. At least, I think I have.”

  “And?” Hero asked with a tut, eager for her to tell him.

  “Stuart Daws. He’s on file as being a petty criminal.”

  “Okay, do you have an address for him?”

  “Of course.” Julie waved a piece of paper under his nose while still concentrating on the screen.

  He resisted the temptation to snatch the rudely presented piece of paper from her. “Okay, let’s get round to his place and see what we can find out. I take it he lived close to the scene of the crime?”

  “Yep, a few streets away.” Julie removed her jacket from the back of her chair and slipped it on.

  “Anyone got anything else before we go?” Hero asked the rest of the team.

  Sally, whom the team had nicknamed “Foxy” when she joined them a few years ago, glanced up and shook her head. “Not yet, sir. I sent PCs out to conduct house-to-house. I’m waiting for them to report back.”

  “Okay, Foxy. Leave it until lunchtime and chase them up, will you? There might be a witness out there, and that person just doesn’t realise it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Hero surveyed the rest of the room, other team members all had their heads down, focusing on their work.

  “Jason, can you do an early sandwich run? I’m starving. We have to nip out now, but I’d like a sandwich waiting for me when we return. “I’ll have a cheese and ham on white.” Hero walked over and gave the youngest member of the team a twenty-pound note. Julie, what do you want?” he called over to his sour-faced partner.

  “Tuna and mayo, thanks.” She added the last word as an afterthought.

  “See what everyone else wants, and be as quick as you can. Keep up the good work, folks.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jason stood up and worked his way around the room with a pen and notepad in hand, taking the orders.

  “Come on, Julie.”

  Hero and Julie left the station and drove to the victim’s address.

  “Something up?” Hero asked a few minutes into the journey.

  “Nope.”

  Hero hated being lied to, and something was obviously wrong with Julie. He pressed her further, “Julie, I can tell when something’s bugging you. Spill?”

  Ignoring him, she stared at the white van in front of them.

  Hero let her remain quiet for a second or two then insisted, “Come on. No bullshit this time. What’s up?”

  Julie rested her head against the headrest and exhaled a long breath. “It’s Mum. The doctor told her that the cancer has spread. It’s terminal.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry to hear that, Julie. There’s nothing more the hospital can do? She’s had chemo, et cetera?”

  “Yep, they’ve tried everything.”

  Hero glanced sideways and saw Julie wipe away a large tear that had splodged onto her colourless cheek.

  “Look, if you need to take time off to be with her, I can arrange it with the super.” Guilt flushed through him for breezing happily into work after the birth of his twins, until he reprimanded himself for being daft. That was what life was all about, wasn’t it? New lives began as others petered out and ended.
In his partner’s case, Julie’s mother was barely sixty, far too young to say farewell to the world.

  “I’d rather work. Mum’s being cared for by the Macmillan nurse they’ve appointed her. I might have to take time off further down the road though, once her health starts to deteriorate.”

  “Just ask. I hope Rob is showing his support?”

  Julie sighed and closed her eyes. Hero turned to see that she was chewing on her bottom lip. When she finally spoke again, her voice sounded strangled. “He’s walked out on me.”

  Hero clobbered the steering wheel with his clenched fist. “I’m sorry about that, Julie. You know my thoughts on the man, a total waste of space in my book. The heartless piece of shit.”

  “The last thing I want to hear right now, sir, is ‘I told you so.’”

  “Okay, I know how you like to keep your personal life private. I’ll just say one thing—there’s no need to bottle things up, all right? My door is always open should you need a shoulder to cry on or time off to cope with the emotional baggage heading your way.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Julie coughed and straightened her shoulders. “I think it’s this road on the right.” She pointed to a small turning up ahead of them.

  Hero took the hint not to revisit the conversation. He doubted very much that Julie would take him up on his offer, but at least his conscience was clear. He’d offered her support in her time of need, unlike her bastard of a boyfriend. He shook his head and made a vow to have a word in the despicable constable’s ear when time permitted. He’d never liked the little shit, and taking him down a peg or two would be a pleasure.

  “Shake a leg, girl.” Hero smiled, and they both got out of the car.

  Julie appeared to be focused on the job in hand as she rang the doorbell of the grubby-looking terraced property.

  Hero flashed his warrant card at the woman who opened the door. “Mrs. Daws? I’m DI Nelson, and this is DS Shaw. May we come in for a second?”

  Dazed, the young woman, whose greasy brown shoulder-length hair looked as though it hadn’t been combed—let alone washed—in days, stepped back behind the door and allowed them to enter. She led them through the house to a littered lounge that Hero suspected hadn’t had an in-depth clean by either a duster or hoover in weeks. His keen nose twitched at the stale smell of alcohol invading his nostrils from the numerous beer cans littering the floor and table. What a bloody tip! I’ve seen pig sties cleaner than this.

  “Is this about Stuart? I’ve been out of my mind with worry. He didn’t come home last night.” The woman hurriedly cleared a space for them on the sofa before plonking down on the beanbag opposite.

  Hero nodded. “It is. I’m sorry, but I have some bad news.”

  “Is he in the hospital?” she asked, her eyes bulging with fear.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m afraid your husband was found lying in an alley last night. He was dead.”

  She buried her face in her hands and howled. She rocked back and forth as the howl ebbed and flowed. It was a while before Mrs. Daws recovered enough to speak.

  Hero watched the scene with a lump in his throat. He couldn’t imagine what the woman must be feeling. He’d never lost anyone close before, and he could only imagine the pain she was going through.

  “I’m sorry. Can I call someone to come and be with you?”

  “No. There is no one. Only Stu…‌now he’s gone and…” She looked up, tears glistening in her eyes. “What am I going to do? How will I survive without him, his money? They’ll take all the benefits off me now. I’ll have to move, to leave my home. This is the first place we’ve really felt settled.”

  “I’m sure the authorities will regard your case with sympathy.”

  “You’re kidding me?” she said with a snarl. “The council round here is crying out for suitable homes to house yet more bloody immigrants. Now that Stu’s gone, I’ll be turfed out onto the streets.” She started sobbing again.

  Hero and Julie looked at each other in despair. Really? That’s this woman’s first thought about her husband’s demise? What’s going to happen to her once word gets out about his death? He cleared his throat. “Going back to your husband’s death. Where was he last night?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “If you’re asking if he was on the rob, no. He ain’t done nothing like that for months…‌hang on a sec’.” She leapt out of her chair and left the room. She returned a few seconds later, holding a tin that appeared to be some kind of tea caddy. “I take that back. The bastard robbed me housekeeping money. The little shit!”

  “Did he make a habit of dipping into that tin?” Hero asked, not bothered if the man had or not. It was irrelevant to his case, or was it? If Daws still had a considerable amount of money on him after leaving the pub, that would have been all the motive the killer needed.

  “Now and again.” She sank back into her beanbag and proceeded to light up a dog-end she’d fished out of an overflowing ashtray.

  Hero shuddered at the thought of smoking something so close to the filtered tip. “So, I take it you have no idea if he was meeting anyone last night?”

  “Nope. I was at work. When I got home, I expected him to be here, but he wasn’t.”

  “And where do you work, Mrs. Daws?”

  She looked at him and frowned. “What the fuck has that got to do with anything?”

  “It’s a simple question, Mrs. Daws. Do you earn money illegally? Is that why you’re avoiding the question?”

  “Of course I don’t. You can’t come in here like this and make disgusting insinuations like that.” She threw her arms out to the side. “All right, I work as a barmaid.”

  Julie took out her notebook and started scribbling down the woman’s details.

  “Where?” Hero asked evenly, despite his growing frustrations.

  “At the Dog and Duck in Moss Side.”

  Nice area…‌not. It doesn’t really come as a surprise, looking at her.

  “I see. Thank you. So, when was the last time you saw your husband alive, Mrs. Daws?”

  She took a puff on the filter in her hand and vigorously stubbed the remainder out in the ashtray. “Yesterday, around lunchtime, I suppose.”

  “About one o’clock? Or later than that?”

  She thought about her answer for a second or two. “About twoish then, if you’re going to push me.”

  “Okay, well, your husband was found in an alley in the Longford Park area last night. Any idea what he was doing there?”

  “Nope. In an alley, you say? Maybe he was practising his Peeping Tom act.” She laughed at her own joke, however she quickly straightened her face and cast her eyes down to the floor when neither of the detectives joined in.

  “Is there a regular pub he frequents in the area maybe?”

  She clicked her fingers. “Yep, he likes to go down the New Inn. I reckon he fancies the busty blonde behind the bar. Anyways, I’ve told him to steer clear of my pub. I mean the pub where I work. He got me in bother with the boss when I snuck him a freebie beer once. I nearly got the sack because of it.”

  “I see. Was he in full-time employment?”

  She snorted. “You’re kidding? He don’t know what work is, that one. Lazy git at the best of times. I’m the only breadwinner in this household.”

  “Okay, I thought you said you were on benefits before?”

  An embarrassed glow settled into the woman’s chubby cheeks. “Yeah, well, me and the benefits help run this gaff. That’s what I meant.”

  “I’m glad we clarified that,” Hero said smugly.

  “Did your husband have any friends? Maybe he met up with them at the pub yesterday?”

  “Naw, all his mates are like leaches down at the pub. If he’s got money to burn, they swarm to him like flies around dog shit. If he was drinking with my housekeeping money, he would have been someone’s best friend for the day down there. That’s for sure.”

  “We’ll call at the pub and find out. Does your husband have any ene
mies? Can you think of a reason why anyone would want to kill him?”

  “I’ve threatened to a number of times, usually when he’s robbed my money. Apart from drinking with the regulars down at the pub, he’s a bit of a loner. He’s never mentioned anyone being out to get him or anything like that, not as far as I can remember, anyway.”

  Hero dug a business card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Mrs. Daws as he stood up. She struggled out of the beanbag and showed both the detectives to the front door.

  “If you can think of anything that’ll help our enquiries, please get in touch. We’ll keep you up to date with our findings. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  The second they stepped over the threshold, the front door slammed behind them.

  “Charming,” Julie grumbled as they made their way back to the car.

  “Well? What did you make of that?” Hero knew what he’d made of the woman’s performance, but he wanted to see if his partner felt the same. He was keen to make sure she was concentrating fully on the job, and he also wanted to find out if he was misjudging the grieving woman.

  Once they were in the car, Julie found her voice. “She’s weird. One minute, she was sobbing her heart out at her loss, and the next, she was more concerned about losing her home and the benefits she’s on.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t ring true with me, either. My take on it is that they didn’t have a happy marriage. The lack of family photos was all the evidence I needed to come to that conclusion—there were none that I could see anyway. All that howling when I initially broke the news to her appeared to be for our benefit, agreed?”

  “Definitely. Where to next? The New Inn, to see if he was drinking there last night?”

  “That’s my thinking. Maybe the regulars will open up to us and can shed some light on any enemies the victim might have had.” Hero pulled out into the traffic and drove towards the pub. “Ring Foxy, will you? Ask her to track down the CCTV footage from last night in the alley area? Maybe we’ll spot something on that.”

  “Okay.” Julie rang the station and requested that Foxy carry out the task right away.