Buried in the Past

by Bill Kitson

  ‘I bet he’ll be really surprised when we turn up at the nineteenth hole.’

  ‘Not half as surprised as his partner will be. He’s partnered with Tom Pratt.’

  Nash turned and looked at the patient, who was seated in the chair alongside the bed. Even in the unflattering gown supplied by the hospital she looked highly attractive. ‘Have you had word from the medics?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, they came and did all sorts of tests, peering into my eyes and asking a lot of silly questions. The upshot is that they’re sure I haven’t got concussion and as they can’t keep me here against my will, I’ve decided to sign myself out. I quite understand that you don’t want us to return to the cottage in view of what’s happened there, but will you take us back to Helmsdale, or should I order a taxi?’

  Nash smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry about that, we’ll get you back to your hotel, no problem.’ His gaze switched momentarily towards Margaret, who was watching him apprehensively. ‘Clara and I have to go and interview someone, which hopefully won’t take too long. Then we’ll come back here and collect you, if you’ll be ready by then. Say in about an hour and a half? In the meantime, I think your mother has something to tell you.’

  As he and Mironova turned to leave, Clara saw panic flare in Margaret’s eyes. Once clear of the ward, Clara said, ‘You were pushing things a bit, weren’t you? With Margaret, I mean.’

  ‘I had to, because if I hadn’t, I reckon Margaret would have kept stalling. We’re so close, and it’s bound to come out soon. In which case, it would be far messier than telling the truth now. Anything that reduces the chances of a satisfactory outcome should be avoided, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. What would you class as a totally satisfactory outcome, Mike?’’

  ‘Phil and Corinna behind bars serving life sentences for the murders they’ve committed, and justice for as many of their victims and those closest to them as possible would be a good start. That’s the only way that Tina and others can feel safe.’

  ‘Ah yes, and Tina’s safety is important to you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course it is. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing, except that you seem to be taking a very personal interest in this young woman’s welfare. Very commendable – especially as she’s so plain and unattractive.’

  ‘Oh, very funny.’

  ‘Of course, the fact that her face lights up every time you walk into the room might have something to do with it, too.’

  Nash thought of several ways he could answer the allegation, all of which he rejected. In the end, he opted for silence, which was probably wise.

  Having talked to the solicitor in the presence of Tom Pratt, whose surprise had been as great as Nash had predicted, they headed back to the hospital. Before leaving the golf club, Nash asked Pratt to phone him at home that evening. ‘I’ve a job I want you to handle for me. All being well, I should have confirmation by tonight that it’s all going ahead the day after tomorrow.’

  He explained to Mironova what he had in mind on the drive back to Netherdale General. ‘When we get back to Helmsdale, I’ll drop you at the station first. I’d like you to get hold of Sister Evangeline and make arrangements with her. Whilst you’ve got her, ask her another question.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Ask her if she ever met Phil Miller. If the answer’s no, ask Viv to try to contact our doctor friend in California. He should be back from his surfing by now.’

  ‘Is that still necessary?’

  Nash thought about it. ‘No, I don’t suppose it is, really. But it will provide valuable confirmation – and we won’t have to wait. After that, phone the chief, if she’s available, and bring her up to speed with developments and warn HQ we’ll need an ARU to be on hand as backup. Oh, and get me the number of Dales Bank in Netherdale. I’ll phone their manager as soon as I get back from dropping Tina and Mrs Fawcett at the hotel.’

  Tina and Margaret were waiting outside the hospital entrance when Nash pulled in. Clara noticed that both women looked upset and it was easy to tell that they had been crying. The journey to Helmsdale was conducted in an uncomfortable silence. Mironova was relieved to be out of the car, clear of the oppressive atmosphere. Even Nash, who was normally able to lift the gloom, seemed to be affected by the tension between the two women.

  Nash took Margaret’s case from the boot of the car and carried it inside, where she was already in the process of booking in. Tina had remained outside, watching the detective in silence. Nash might have been flattered by the attention, but he wasn’t deceived by it. Once Margaret had her room key, Nash escorted them upstairs, and as Margaret opened her door, he turned to leave, only to be detained by Tina, who put her hand on his arm.

  ‘Mike, I know how busy you are, and I know I’ve taken up a lot of your time and caused you a great deal of trouble, but I really need to talk to you. If you could spare me just a few minutes, I’d be really grateful.’

  Nash guessed that Margaret might already have an inkling of what Tina wanted to talk about, because she closed the door after thanking him for his assistance. He followed Tina down the corridor towards her room, staring admiringly at the long shapely curve of her legs, her neat figure and lustrous black hair.

  Tina struggled to open the door one-handed then stood aside to let him enter first. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, preventing Nash from leaving – in the unlikely event that he wanted to. ‘My … Margaret told me the truth,’ Tina began falteringly. ‘About my parents, I mean. I don’t know why, but somehow it wasn’t as big a shock as she might have thought. The problem is, I don’t know what to think. Part of me wants to hate her for misleading me and part of me wants to thank her because if she hadn’t done that horrid thing, I would have been dead by now. I’ve always been uncomfortable with her because I’ve never felt as I ought to. I mean, I’ve never had the sort of love for her that a daughter should have. I thought perhaps that I was unnatural and cold.

  ‘I know this is sounding all mixed up, and you’ll probably think I’m overreacting, but I have no idea how to handle it. From what Margaret told me, I now have to brace myself for the fact that my real mother is dead, has been since soon after I was born, and my father was a criminal. Is that right? Margaret said I should ask you.’

  Nash took her hand and led her across to the bed, where he sat down on one edge, patting the duvet. ‘Sit here and I’ll tell you what I can.’

  Tina did as she was asked, aware that Nash was still holding her hand.

  ‘If the facts we have uncovered prove to be true,’ he began, ‘then everything Margaret has told you did happen.’

  ‘I dread to think what Margaret must have gone through,’ Tina said.

  ‘I watched her as she told Clara about it, and it was clear that even speaking about it was a terrible ordeal.’ Nash paused and added, ‘The worst thing is, I feel pretty certain that even then she didn’t tell us all she’d suffered. There were parts of the story that she skimmed over. I’m not saying we ought to have heard them, but knowing what she endured helps to understand her. I hope you can forgive her. Look at it this way, she raised you when there was no one else around to do that, and kept you safe as you were growing up. Believe me, speaking as a father, that’s no easy thing to do, and the worry is constant. You may have lost your mother, but look what you’ve gained. I can’t say any more for the time being, but I assure you as soon as we have finished our inquiry you will understand.’

  ‘Thank you, Mike, you’ve put everything into perspective for me. Strangely, I feel closer to Margaret now and once again I’ve you to thank for that. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.’

  Tina released her hand from his, leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. Nash stood up. ‘I have to go,’ he told her. ‘I’m just glad what I’ve said has been a help.’

  Clara confirmed she had spoken with Sister Evangeline. ‘She’s all set to come down as you asked. In the circumst
ances I had a word with Northumbria Police and they’ll make arrangements for the train journey, but we need someone to meet her at Netherdale. I thought it best to have a word with you before fixing anything, as we’re likely to be fairly busy.’

  ‘No problem, I’ve already warned Tom. He can take my car. Did Sister Evangeline say whether she’s met Phil Miller or not?’

  ‘She’s never set eyes on him, or so she said. She told me that after Max died and Frankie disappeared, she never even saw Corinna again. I got Viv to do the necessary, and we should hear back from California by tomorrow.’

  ‘Excellent. Anything else?’

  ‘I spoke to the chief, gave her a quick update and told her you’d fill her in with the detail once the operation is over.’

  Nash waited a few minutes before making a phone call. When he was connected, Nash quoted an extension and was put straight through.

  ‘Is DI Shaw there, please? Brian, Mike Nash. I need another favour.’

  ‘Another? Don’t you think we’ve any crime of our own to solve?’

  ‘Come off it, Brian, we both know you’ve been sitting around swilling coffee and eating bacon butties, waiting for me to give you something to do.’

  Shaw’s initial response was unprintable. ‘What is it this time?’ he asked with mock weariness.

  ‘I need to know what motors Phil Miller and Corinna are driving. My lad’s done a DVLA search and they’ve five cars between them. I wonder if someone could have a quiet squint at the place they keep them and see what’s missing. I need to know tomorrow if you can – so I can arrest them.’

  ‘Really! That might not be as easy as you make it sound. But leave it with me. I’ll see what we can do.’

  The next morning, the solicitor phoned to say that he had met with Frankie Da Silver’s alleged sister and gave Nash the woman’s description. Viv was despatched to take his statement. Mironova told him that DI Shaw had rung back and supplied them with the details of the cars to watch out for.

  Five minutes later Nash’s phone rang. ‘That was the bank. It’s all set,’ he told Clara. ‘The securities clerk has made the appointment as we arranged. Someone claiming to be Frankie Da Silva rang. Apparently the caller made all the right noises. She apologized for failing to pay the annual service charge for the safety deposit box and asked how much she owed. She’s been out of the country, or so she said.’ Nash paused and reflected. ‘Actually, that part’s almost true. Anyway, she’s promised to rectify the error tomorrow morning, after which she told the securities clerk she wants to go through the contents of the box. I’ll bet she does.’ He grinned, but Clara found it about as comforting as the snarl of a tiger.

  chapter twenty-one

  Before 8 a.m. next morning the team was assembled in the CID suite in Netherdale. The room was larger than the one in Helmsdale and as most of the morning’s action was going to take place nearby, it was the obvious choice. The armed response unit members were clustered in a group at one end of the room, the bags containing their weapons a sinister reminder of the potentially dangerous operation ahead.

  ‘As soon as Sergeant Binns arrives, I’ll start the briefing,’ Nash told them. He glanced at the wall clock. ‘I’d like everyone in position by 9.30.’

  ‘Can’t we begin without Jack?’ Mironova asked. ‘After all, he won’t be coming with us.’

  ‘I know that, but I’ve asked Jack to take charge of things here when we leave, and I want him to be fully in the picture in case anything goes wrong.’

  As Nash finished speaking, the outer door opened. Everyone looked, expecting to see Binns. Instead it was Tom Pratt whose ample form filled the doorway. ‘Come in, Tom,’ Nash gestured to the newcomer. ‘We’re just waiting for Jack.’

  ‘He’s on his way now. He had to field a couple of phone calls first.’

  ‘Take a seat, Tom.’ Nash turned to his colleagues. ‘Tom and Jack have been involved in this case from the beginning, twenty-five years ago, so I felt it was only fair they should be in at the death.’

  Binns hurried in. ‘Sorry, Mike, I couldn’t get off the phone,’ he apologized. ‘One RTA to deal with, then a bloke from the Health and Safety Executive who wanted to carry out an inspection today. He took some getting rid of, but I put him off.’

  ‘How did you manage that?’

  Binns smiled. ‘I told him we’re about to arrest a couple of highly dangerous homicidal maniacs and we’ve the building crawling with armed officers.’ He grinned at the ARU team. ‘When I told him one of these characters made Jack the Ripper look like Paddington Bear he decided to postpone the visit.’

  ‘Right, let’s get on with it.’ Nash turned to the sergeant from the ARU. ‘I’m not anticipating this ending in a shoot-out, but the people we’re about to detain are ruthless, determined career criminals. Furthermore, they’ve everything to lose, so we can’t afford to take any chances. Fortunately for us, the location should work in our favour. The building they’re going to visit is halfway along a cul-de-sac. That means we should be able to block the one exit and seal off their escape route, whether they’re using their vehicle or on foot.

  ‘Added to which, I hope we’re going to catch them unawares. As far as they’re concerned, they think everything is going to plan.’ Nash paused. ‘Their plan, that is; not ours. They’re away from their normal territory, which means not only are they out of their comfort zone, but they’ve no chance of picking up rumours of what’s about to go down. They’ve no reason to suspect we know they even exist.’

  ‘What you’re saying is, we’re a sort of belt-and-braces option?’ the officer suggested.

  ‘Partly.’ Nash smiled grimly. ‘But for the most part, you’re here in the devout hope that you won’t be needed.’ Twenty minutes later, when Nash was satisfied everyone had the facts clear, he signalled an end to the briefing. ‘OK, I want you to make your way to the site and take up your positions. I’ll be along in a few minutes. I just want a word with Jack and Tom before I leave.’

  He watched the others file out of the room before turning to Binns. ‘I’ve a job I want you to see to whilst I’m out. I’m expecting some visitors’ – he glanced at the clock – ‘who should be here in half an hour or so. Tom knows the details and he’s going to collect them, but I want you to make sure they’re comfortable and have everything they need. Here’s what I want you to do.’

  The Porsche slowed to a halt. Not, as Nash had anticipated, in the cul-de-sac itself, but on the main road that crossed its end. Parking was at a premium. The only space available required the driver to manoeuvre in a tight three-point turn. Luckily, the action gave Pearce, who was nearest, opportunity to read the number plate. He checked the registration against the ones written on his pad and lifted his radio. ‘They’re here,’ he told Nash. ‘Red Porsche, parking on Cross Lane.’

  ‘I see it,’ Nash acknowledged. ‘Hold your positions, everyone. Let’s see what they do before anybody moves.’

  They waited, tension mounting. Nash glanced at the time on his dashboard display. ‘Ten minutes to go,’ he said into his radio. ‘Everything ready inside, Clara?’

  As she replied, her signal was broken up by static, caused by the fabric of the building, Nash guessed. Nevertheless, he made out her message: ‘All set in here, Mike.’

  ‘Passenger leaving the car,’ Pearce reported. ‘It’s the woman. Hang on; let’s see if the driver comes with her.’ They waited. ‘No, looks as if she’s going alone.’

  ‘Get that, Clara?’ Nash asked.

  ‘OK, Mike.’

  ‘It’s what we expected,’ Nash told the listeners. ‘Everyone remain in place until she enters the building. We don’t want to spook the driver.’ Nash was conscious that most of the ARU team, apart from their driver, would be inside the body of the Transit, and unable to see what was going on.

  He watched in his rear-view mirror as the woman walked confidently down the cul-de-sac towards and then past him. He transferred his gaze to the Porsche. There had been no furthe
r movement from within the car. ‘Looks as if her partner’s leaving it to her. Everyone wait for my signal.’

  Two minutes passed slowly, time the waiting men would have sworn was much longer; especially those blind to what was going on. ‘Right, she’s safely inside,’ they heard Nash report at last. ‘Pull the van down that alley opposite the end of the cul-de-sac, just beyond their car. Once you’re clear of the driver’s line of sight get out of the van and wait there, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Whatever you do, don’t show yourselves until we’ve sorted things out inside. Viv, you’re our eyes and ears outside, OK?’

  ‘No problem, Mike.’ Pearce watched Nash get out of his car and enter the building, before returning his gaze to the Porsche, whose driver was still visible, even through the tinted glass window.

  The interior of the bank was deceptively spacious, especially for so small a town. The woman ignored the four cashier positions and headed for the reception desk set at right angles to the tills where it formed a barrier to the administration section of the branch.

  ‘Good morning,’ the receptionist greeted her. ‘How may I help you?’

  ‘I have an appointment with Mrs Simmons.’

  ‘What name is it, please?’

  ‘My name is Da Silva, Francesca Da Silva.’

  ‘Please take a seat. I’ll get Mrs Simmons for you. I believe she was on the phone a few seconds ago.’

  The woman rose from her desk and entered the second office on her right. A minute passed before she emerged, accompanied by a tall, good-looking young woman with blonde curly hair. The receptionist returned to her seat, and the woman approached the visitor and held out her hand. ‘Francesca Da Silva? I’m sorry, I don’t know if it’s Mrs, Miss or Ms.’

  The visitor smiled as they shook hands. ‘Just call me Frankie, everyone else does.’

  ‘Very well, do you have the documents I asked for?’

  The visitor took an envelope from her handbag. ‘There’s my driving licence and the receipt you need. I also put the overdue money for the safety deposit box in with them. I’ll need a receipt for that’ – she smiled – ‘for the Inland Revenue, you understand. It’s not all plain sailing, being a tax exile.’