by M A Comley
She shook her head. “Sadly not. I speak to the others regularly. We’ve got a nice little community going on here, and they refuse to be a part of it. Always shouting out of the window that we’re nosy feckers, I think is the word he prefers to use. Rude man, one of the rudest I’ve ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on.”
“Thanks for being honest with us. Okay, we’ll leave you to enjoy your peace while they’re away.”
“Do you want me to tell them you want to speak to them when they get back? I hate talking to them but I will, if you want me to.”
“Perhaps if I leave you a card you wouldn’t mind ringing me when they return. That would be a great help.”
“Of course. I like to help the police out where I can. This country of ours needs sorting out. I know you officers are under a terrible strain with your resources. It shows, doesn’t it? With the crime rate going up yearly. My father used to walk the beat back in the sixties. It was a whole different kettle of fish back then.” She laughed.
“I bet,” Lorne replied, laughing with the woman.
“He worked the beat near our home. The number of times I saw him march a brat of a kid by the scruff of his neck past our front window is nobody’s business. Those were the days, I can tell you. He took pride in his role in the community; everyone looked up to my old Dad. He was commended for breaking up a hard gang at one time. He heard a whisper on the street from one of his contacts and set the wheels in motion to arrest the gang. If it hadn’t been for Dad’s hard work, we would be reading about another huge robbery in our history books…you know, like the Brink’s-Mat one.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. You must be so proud of him. It’s not often we hear of such bravery by officers these days. Policing has certainly changed over the years.”
“And not for the better, I can hear my father saying now.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“That’s true. Anyway, I could stand here all day discussing the ins and outs of what’s wrong with our society today, but the truth is, we have work to do on a very important case. Thank you for your time. I’ll look forward to hearing from you when the family returns, whenever that may be.”
“As soon as they step out of the car, I’ll call you.”
“Thank you. Speak soon, Mrs Lewis.”
“Good luck, ladies. I know it’s probably rude of me to ask why you want to speak to the family, but I’m going to chance my arm anyway.”
“We’re investigating a couple of crimes, and Mr Frost’s name has cropped up during our enquiries. It’s nothing to worry about, we only wanted a brief chat with him.”
“Gosh, that’s all right then. As long as I don’t have a serial killer living next door, I’ll be able to sleep at night now.”
“No fear of that.” Lorne opened the front door, and she and Katy left the house. She waved at the old lady from the gate before getting in the car.
“Nice old dear,” Katy said, buckling herself in.
“Yep, she seems it. Interesting what she said about the father always shouting at the girls. Strange they’re both still at home at that age, don’t you think?”
“Not really. It’s getting increasingly difficult for youngsters to get on the property ladder these days, or hadn’t you heard about that?”
Lorne pulled a face at her partner. “I see your sarcastic gene is rearing its head again, Katy.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m frustrated about the case. I feel like we’re being given the runaround.”
“Everything will drop into place eventually, I promise you. Right, let’s head for the next one on our list, see if we get any luck there.”
Katy punched in the postcode for the following location and sat back. A subdued atmosphere filled the car until Katy announced, “I’m just throwing this out there… What if there’s something in the fact that Wayne Jethrum and the Frost family are both away at the moment?”
“You mean they’ve contacted each other and took off because of that list being discovered?”
“I don’t know. All I’m saying is that it’s not the holiday season yet; however, the people we’re keen to speak with have all taken off at the same time.”
“Hmm…you have a genuine point there. You know how much I hate working with coincidences. That’s a pretty major one you’ve highlighted.”
“Why don’t we hold off doing anything for now and see what happens at the next address?”
“Agreed. It’s definitely an interesting scenario you’ve raised.”
Within fifteen minutes, they arrived at the home of another person of interest on their list. This time the house was a bungalow on a quiet cul-de-sac just north of town.
“Now this appears to be a far nicer area. Haven’t been around these parts before,” Lorne said.
“It’s all right, if you like bungalows. They’re for old people, so I tend to steer clear of them. Not that I’m looking to move anytime soon. Oh heck, I’m talking a lot of crap, ignore me.”
Lorne giggled. “I thought Mrs Lewis had swapped places with you then.”
Katy huffed, unhooked her seat belt and stepped out of the vehicle. “Bloody charming, that is,” she fired over the roof of the car when Lorne emerged.
“It was a joke, Katy. Lighten up.”
“Sorry. I’m wound up. We’ve been out here most of the morning, for what? Diddly squat, that’s what.”
“Don’t lose faith. You know how it is with these types of cases. The general public expect clues to drop into our laps. The reality is that things never turn out that way. Stay with the programme, love.”
“I will. It doesn’t prevent me from wanting to vent, Lorne.”
“Do you want to take the lead on this one, is that it? You’re feeling left out of it?”
“Not at all. I’m easy either way. I just want to get back to real policing, not chasing people who are trying to avoid us.”
Lorne sighed. “We don’t have proof of that, not yet, Katy.”
“Okay, if you say so. I’m thinking we have a list of men, two of whom are now lying in the mortuary fridge, and two men who have suddenly felt the need to take off, probably after hearing about the deaths of their friends.”
“Or it could all be a huge coincidence.”
Katy cocked an eyebrow as Lorne rang the bell to the bungalow. She bent over and sniffed an early flowering rose planted up a trellis right by the front door. The sweet smell had an instant effect on her. It brightened her mood considerably.
“Sniff that. That’ll ease the tension coursing through your veins.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Katy admonished.
The front door opened to reveal a blonde woman with purple highlights in her hair. She wore a leopardskin jumpsuit and high heels as if she was about to go out somewhere. “Yes? If you’re selling something, I’m not interested. So bugger off.”
Lorne produced her ID and held it up in the woman’s heavily made-up face. “We’re not. Mrs Barton, I presume?”
“What if I am? What do you want?”
“A quick chat with your husband if you don’t mind. Is he at home by any chance?”
“What about?”
“Would you mind if we discussed this inside, Mrs Barton?”
She removed her hand from the door, crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “You’re not stepping foot inside this house, not without a warrant. Have you got one of those?”
“No. Do you think we need one? You’re giving us the impression that you’re keen to hide something. What would that be, Mrs Barton?”
“I’m not. That’s your sodding suspicious mind swinging into action, take my word on that. I don’t let coppers in my house, full stop. My brother was stitched up good and proper by your mob a few years back. Say what you’ve got to say, and let me get on with what I was doing.”
“And what was that, Mrs Barton?”
“None of your damned business. What do you want with my husband?”
“All w
ill be revealed in good time. Is he here?”
“No,” she replied, her lips thinning in anger.
“Is he at work?” Lorne asked through gritted teeth. This woman was doing a good job of rubbing her up the wrong way. If she wasn’t careful, Lorne would arrest her for obstructing an investigation.
“No.”
“Okay, we’re clearly not getting very far here. Get your coat, Mrs Barton, we’ll conduct this interview down at the station.”
“What frigging interview? You said you wanted a chat with my husband. I told you he wasn’t here. I’m not going anywhere with the likes of you.”
“Look, you’ve already told me your brother had problems with the police. I’m not aware of the incident, but being obstructive with us isn’t helping either your husband or yourself, is it?”
“Say what you like, I ain’t going nowhere with you. Wait here. I’m going to ring my solicitor. He’ll tell you where to get off harassing me, lady.”
“It’s inspector, and I’ve done nothing of the sort. We’re investigating two major crimes in the area, and all I’d like to do is have a chat with your husband. Now, where is he?” Lorne demanded, her temper matching the obstinate woman’s.
“Away.”
“Away where?”
“Why? You have no right to pry into our personal life. I don’t have a problem with my husband going away, why should you?”
“Just answer the damn question,” Katy pressed, surprising Lorne.
The woman glared at both of them and then exhaled a large breath. “He’s gone fishing with a mate. Is there a law against that?”
“No, not at all. Who has he gone away with?” Lorne asked, even though the reply was going to be an obvious one.
“A mate of his called Wayne Jethrum. They quite often take off for a few days.”
“To the Lakes?”
Mrs Barton frowned. “Yes, how do you know that?”
“We’ve just come from Mr Jethrum’s house, and his wife told us the same.”
“If that’s the case, why bother coming here?”
“We have to follow up on the facts. It’s never good to take someone’s word on things in our line of business.”
“Roughly translated that means you don’t trust people, right?”
“Not necessarily. We’ve had instances in the past when a husband has told his wife one thing and done something completely different.”
“Ah, like shagging another bird, is that what you’re trying to say?”
“On occasion, yes, that’s been the outcome. How often does your husband go off with his friend?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, a few times a year. He works hard. It’s good for him to get away for a while. I don’t have any objections. It gives me the freedom to have fun with my friends. Which reminds me, I have a lunch date, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“Thanks for the information. One last question. Can you give me the address of where your husband is staying and tell me when he’s likely to return?”
“No, I don’t have an address. He has his phone with him. Yes, the reception can be a bit dodgy at times, but not all the time. If I need to contact him, I can do it via the phone. He’s due back on Friday evening. Is that it?” Her hand latched on to the door again.
“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your assistance.”
The door slammed shut in their faces before Lorne could say anything else. “Rude fecking bitch,” Lorne complained, swivelling on her heel and marching back to the car.
“It’s as if she had something to hide. She’s staring at us from the front window.”
“Christ!” Lorne held her thumb and forefinger up an inch apart. “I’m this close to going back in there and arresting the bitch.”
“For what?”
Lorne growled. “I’m sure I could come up with something. What about wearing an endangered species? Did you see that bloody outfit?”
Katy tilted her head back and roared. “I’ve heard it all now. You’re a scream without meaning to be at times. I’m going to miss you, woman.”
They got back in the car. “Thanks, I’m going to miss you, too, Katy. I never thought I’d hear myself say that, especially after working the first few months with you. You were so far up your own backside in those days.”
“I know. You’ve moulded me nicely—that’s what’s coming next, right?”
Lorne chuckled. “You know me so well. Let’s pick up some lunch for the gang and return to base.”
“What about this mob? What are we going to do about them?”
“I’m thinking about that one. Any idea how many rental properties there are up in the Lake District?”
Katy puffed out her cheeks. “I’m guessing thousands. We could get their registration numbers and ask Graham to track their vehicles on the cameras.”
“We could. I doubt the cameras will go very far, maybe to the end of the motorway and that’s it.”
She started the engine, and they both looked back at the house to see Mrs Barton giving them a perfect view of her middle finger.
“Old hag. That’s it. I’m definitely going to get Karen to dig into her past.”
Lorne stopped off at the baker’s and picked up a mixture of popular sandwiches on white and brown bread and a packet of jam doughnuts that she knew would satisfy the troops for the rest of the day.
They washed their lunch down with a much-needed cup of caffeine and went over how their respective mornings had panned out. After lunch, Karen got on with obtaining the background checks on each of the men and their families, and Graham got to work on the ANPR side of things. Lorne went into her office and rang Patti to chase up the PMs for both victims.
“Hi, how’s it going? Do you have time for a brief chat?” Lorne asked, rubbing at her temple, the first signs of a headache taking root.
“It’s going well. I haven’t got anything for you as yet. I’m still convinced the crimes were committed by the same person, if that helps?”
“It does and it doesn’t. We believe we’ve stumbled across a paedophile ring, but as yet, we haven’t had the chance to speak to any of the men involved. We found a list at the second victim’s house. It was well hidden, so we’re presuming the list is damning in some way.”
“Interesting. You’re thinking that one of this gang’s victims is now on a revenge mission?”
“Yep, it’s the only explanation we can come up with for now. It’s still a frustrating one to tackle. The men we’re trying to interview all appear to be away on holiday, a fishing trip according to a couple of their wives. The other man we’re keen to speak with has gone away with his two daughters.”
“On the same trip?” Patti asked, her voice rising a little.
“We’re unclear about that. All we can do is make an assumption for now.”
“Okay, well, I don’t really know what to say about that.”
“Yeah, I’m at a loss what to think about it, too. I’m trying not to think the worst but have to say I’m struggling. We’re doing background checks on everyone involved. Hopefully something will show up there. If not, well, we’re no further forward.”
“You sound defeated. Don’t let the case get to you, mate. Just think, you’ve only got seven days before you hang up your handcuffs for good.”
“I can’t bloody wait either. I’d love to go out with a bang by solving this one. Okay, I’ll let you get on. Keep me up to date on things, as and when you can, Patti.”
“I will. Keep positive, Lorne.”
Chapter 10
The men, Wayne and Don, had brought with them fish and chips which they’d picked up a few miles down the road. Everyone was hungry and refused to wait for the oven to warm up, so they dug in to the lukewarm meal.
Claire and Kathryn glanced at each other when they saw there were five bundles, one for each of them. Maybe the men weren’t so bad after all. Whenever their father bought fish and chips, he only ever forked out for one portion between the three of them, her fat
her having eighty percent of the helping.
They all ate with their fingers. Claire tried to savour every mouthful; however, the hunger pains were driving her nuts, and she ended up wolfing down her meal, finishing long before any of the others with Kathryn doing the same thing and finishing a close second.
Wayne and Don laughed.
“What is it with your girls, Isaac, don’t you feed them?” Wayne joked.
Her father glared at his daughters. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. Must be all this fresh air that’s worked wonders with their appetite, eh, girls?”
Claire wiped the grease from around her mouth on the sleeve of her baggy sweatshirt, which disguised how thin she’d become recently through their father’s wilful neglect to allow them any food.
“Okay, now that dinner is out of the way, why don’t you guys get unpacked in the cabin next door? I went in there earlier to light the fire, so it should be warm and cosy,” her father said, acting like the perfect host.
Wayne and Don attempted to tidy away the remains of their meal, but her father stopped them.
“That’s okay, the girls will do it.”
The men smiled and walked towards the front door to leave the cabin.
“God, I almost forgot. I received a call on the way up here,” Wayne announced.
Her father gestured for him to say more.
“It was the police. They said that Denis and Larry were both dead.”
“What?” her father shouted. “How? An accident?”
“Nope, the policewoman told me they’d been murdered.”
Claire clutched her sister’s hand under the table, urging her not to react to the news as their father’s gaze drifted their way. Claire stared down at the table until she sensed him turn away.
“Damn. London is getting worse, isn’t it? Bloody knife crimes, I should think. What did you say?”
Wayne shrugged. “Told them I hadn’t seen them in years. Then I made out the reception was bad. I have a feeling the woman will contact me again on Friday when I get home. Sad to think we’ll never see either of them again.”
“Yep. We’ll have a drink in their honour over the next few days. You go and get settled,” Isaac ordered both men.