Witchmoor Edge

by Mike Crowson

Millicent read through Koswinski's statement as a triumphant Hammond and Goss stood waiting. At length she said, "That sounds like more or less the truth."

  She drummed her fingers absently on the desk for a moment or two, and then added, "Well done, I think you pulled that off quite neatly. It doesn't tell us anything we hadn't guessed, of course, but it confirms it. Well, no. It tells us Sansom and Barker may still be alive. Tommy, check up on Uncle Olu's address as soon as you can and we'll follow it up. However ..." she paused. "If it wasn't either Sansom or Barker who died in the fire, who the hell was it? Did you sense anything held back?"

  Goss shook his head, but Hammond said, "I think Koswinski may have been bending the truth a bit about his own part in it all. I think kicking a tramp around is more his line than the younger kids, especially as he was already in a foul mood with the world, but I'd say the general drift of it all was true. And ..." He hesitated.

  Millicent looked quizzically, waiting for the rest of the sentence.

  "Oh, I don't know. I felt that there was something more, but it seems complete and I didn't think he was lying."

  Millicent nodded. "The fire starting suddenly with a bang or a boom ties in with the fire investigation branch's belief that it started with a flammable agent and a timing device," she remarked. "But it certainly does nothing to explain the third body."

  "Koswinski said the fire was all along where they'd found the body," Hammond observed. "That has to be the connection between the fire and the morphine."

  D.I. Hampshire slipped the statement into the growing file. "This has been noted on the database, I take it," she said. When Goss nodded again she continued, "Gail. Chase up the autopsy report on the fire victim."

  "Yes ma'am."

  “Now Tony, any word on either the tyre treads or the items from the picnic site?"

  "Picnic site first," D.S. Gibbs said.

  "Pull up chairs all three of you," Hampshire said. "Sorry. Go on Tony."

  "I went through the till receipt," Gibbs said, perching on the edge of a table opposite. "Two yoghurts and a jar of diabetic jam were on the list. I checked with Mrs Hunter. Neither she nor her husband is or was - diabetic. According to forensic, all of the items turned in had nobody's prints but Hunter's."

  "Wiped clean?"

  "Looked that way to forensic," Gibbs agreed. "They also said that the prints were too clear to be natural if he'd thrown the various items."

  "It sounds as if Mrs. Hunter's version of events is not true, then?" Millicent asked.

  "Seems like it could be that way."

  "And of course," Hampshire added thoughtfully, "it throws Ellen Barnes's story into serious doubt as well. Anything on the tyre tracks yet?"

  "Yes there is. That's interesting too."

  "In what way?"

  "There's no match for two sets of car tracks or the bicycle, but the other matched Shields car."

  "Did it, by God! What's the evidence?"

  "No doubt about it," Gibbs said. "There's a nick in the tread here." He jabbed his finger at a point on one of the two photographs and passed them both over. He pointed again to the mark as Millicent held the pictures.

  "Add to that there's a very slight wearing towards the outside of the front nearside tyres in both pictures."

  Millicent took a magnifying glass from her drawer and studied the two shots, moving from one print to the other.

  "There's not much doubt that the two are the same tyre," she said. "So Shields was there and his statement was deliberately misleading."

  "By the over laying of prints, he must have arrived after the Porsche and left before it as well."

  Millicent considered the news.

  "I want you and Gary Goss to go and pick up Sheldon Shields and bring him in for questioning. I'll talk to him myself and confront him with the evidence. I'll have Tommy with me for the interview if he's back and DC Goss can go chase Uncle Olu, Sansom and Barker. DS Turner can have another go at Barnes and Dent and try and get them to shift their story, when she gets back from seeing Gloria Cullen."

  "Tony," she added, "I'd like you to go and check out Rosie O'Connor's bike tyres and then check out the background of a Doctor Leverett, without talking to her or letting her know that the check is going on. Then have a quick look at how Bright is doing with the door to door enquiries."

  Millicent addressed all three. "So far," she said, "we're uncovering loads of motives, several suspects with access to morphine and several lies, half truths and deliberately misleading statements. Let's see if we can narrow it down a bit."

  When the others had gone Millicent still sat at her desk, fingers drumming softly. "Where the hell is the Porsche?" she said out loud.

  The only other person within earshot was PC Downing, entering data. She thought Hampshire was talking to her. "Beg your pardon ma’am," she said.

  "Nothing Gail. I was just talking to myself. I was wondering what had become of the Porsche. There's nothing on my interest report is there?"

  "Not so far," she replied. "Do you want me to renew the report?"

  "Yes," Millicent said, "And put it as urgent."

  She picked up her phone and dialled Chief Inspector Cooke.

  "Ah, Bob, Millicent here. Can I go to the press and get them to cover the need to find the Porsche? The Interest Report hasn't turned anything up yet."

  "I had them on an hour or so ago asking for an update," Cooke answered. "It would help relations to ask for their help. I've also had a couple of the nationals on."

  "You're thinking about that Press Conference, I take it."

  "Precisely."

  "There's not a lot clear cut to say, but I guess we could say enough to keep them happy for the time being."

  "I was thinking of early afternoon tomorrow. Say, two o'clock. As the officer in charge I'd need you there."

  Millicent pulled a face at the phone, but her tone didn't change.

  "And the Porsche?" she asked.

  "We don't have a photo, I suppose, but they'll either mention it in passing or use a stock picture," Cooke mused. "I think you could ring them yourself. Ask for Adam Sutcliffe at the Argus. He's the editor and a golfing friend."

  "Okay," she said, and rang off.

  She got an outside line and dialled the Witchmoor Argus.

  "Argus, can I help?" asked a neutral female voice.

  "Adam Sutcliffe, the editor," Hampshire said.

  "I'll see if he's available," said the receptionist. "Who's calling?"

  "Detective Inspector Hampshire, Witchmoor Edge Police Headquarters. Tell him Chief Inspector Cooke asked me to call."

  "Just a moment."

  Sutcliffe was available - probably the name dropping did the trick, because he answered with alacrity. "What can I do for you inspector?" he asked.

  "You know that strange fire and the even stranger murder victim at the weekend?" Millicent asked.

  "Oh yes?"

  "The victim was last seen in or around his car," she said. "He turned up in the canal, but there's no sign of the car. I've put out an interest report, so everyone in West Yorkshire police is looking for it and the report will show up whenever there's any computer enquiry about the vehicle, anywhere in the country, but it hasn't turned up. Bob Cooke was wondering if you could run a 'have you seen this car' type story in the Argus."

  "Love to," said Sutcliffe. "Any theories as to where it's gone?"

  "We dragged the canal to see if it was there, with the body. It was claimed to have been seen, up on the edge of the moors near East Morton around two on Saturday. I think you can safely say the police are baffled, though personally and off the record, I think both car and victim might have been intended for the fire."

  "Okay, I'll run a story in the Main Edition today. The Early Edition's already gone to press, but there’s nothing earth shattering in it. I'll write the story myself right now."

  "Thanks very much. My Chief Inspector will be duly grateful, I think."

  "My pleasure. Keep us abreast of any develo
pments."

  Next Millicent rang the Leeds office of the Frankfurt-Manhattan Bank and asked for the personnel department.

  "Sue Gaines, personnel,” a voice said.

  "Detective Inspector Hampshire here. I'm calling from Witchmoor Edge CID," she said. "I'd like to make some enquiries about a former employer. As it's confidential information I'm after, perhaps you'd like to ring back and satisfy yourself that it's a genuine call. It may be a good idea for me to talk to the Personnel Officer, if I'm not already doing so."

  "You are!" Ms. Gaines said. "Who did you say you were?"

  "Detective Inspector Hampshire. If you call the Witchmoor Edge Police number given in the telephone directory you'll get through to main switchboard and you can ask for me. My direct line would be quicker and more efficient, but of course it wouldn't prove who I was."

  "I'll call you back immediately."

  It actually took several minutes for Ms Gaines to look up the number and get through the switchboard, but Millicent was waiting for the call.

  "Sorry about all the performance," Millicent said. "But I wanted confidential information quickly and this seemed the best way to get it. I didn't want to write or call at this stage, because what you say may simply confirm what your former employee tells us."

  "I'm intrigued," Ms Gaines said. "Whom are we talking about?"

  "Rosie O'Connor. She told us that she got hooked on heroin, dried out in a clinic at the end of last year while you kept her job vacant and then was fired about a week or so ago."

  "Yes. It’s pretty hard to find good IT staff, so we put up with more from her than we would have done from most employees."

  "Why did you dismiss her?"

  "It was a condition of taking her back that she did not touch drugs again. We found her with some and dismissed her." Ms Gaines paused. "I was looking for an excuse to get rid of her anyway," she continued. "The silly young woman gave me the chance."

  "Why did you want rid of her."

  "I don't like to be categorical because I can't prove it, but I believe she was passing confidential information to a man called Simon Hunter."

  "We're investigating his murder," Millicent said.

  "Yes. I read about in the paper. For obvious reasons, I normally support law and order," Ms Gaines said, "On this occasion, however, the world is well rid of him and so is the foolish Miss O'Connor. I hope the murderer gets away with it."

  Millicent snorted but did not respond directly.

  "However," Ms Gaines added, "If you ask my opinion - and I know you didn't - Rosie O'Connor was too enamoured of him to do such a thing, even in spite of him being the ruthless rogue he was."

  After the call Millicent thought that the position really was much as Rosie herself had painted it. All the same, she could not afford to remove her from the list of suspects.