Walk On By: DI Ted Darling Book 7

by L M Krier

  ‘So for now, when I’ve finished my tea, I’ll get back out there on my little adventure. Robin and the boys have gone sailing and I’m very much Not Wanted On Voyage, so I’m off for a little spin and probably a pub lunch somewhere. I see you’re on two wheels yourself today.’

  Ted explained about Trev’s need for the car over the weekend to take his mother to Wales. She immediately looked contrite.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I should have asked about your mother.’

  ‘No worries. She’s recovering well, physically. The down-side for me is that’s it scared her so much that she’s decided to move back to Wales, permanently. It’s not just a visit there.

  ‘There’s good news on the case, though. Océane found some footage of the assault on social media so Uniform should hopefully be able to make an arrest, probably today with any luck.’

  ‘We need to deal with this most robustly. We can’t have this type of thing going on in this division. And what about these happy slappers? Is there any progress on that case?’

  ‘I’ve had Jezza’s proposal. It’s meticulous, as you would expect, and I think any risks in her intended course of action are manageable, with care. I’m proposing putting her on it for a trial period initially, to see where it leads us. It will mean I need to get to the dojo on Wednesday evenings for as long as she needs to complete the operation, so we can have a scheduled meeting without raising the suspicions of anyone who might be watching her.

  ‘I’ll forward the proposal to you for approval. But why don’t you go and enjoy some free time first? And thanks for coming to my rescue. I appreciated it very much, although I’m not sure Mr Marston did.’

  ‘Make sure you get away at a decent time, too. If this is your last evening with your mother for some time, go and make the most of it. Heaven knows, we get little enough time for family life in this job.’

  After she’d left, Ted went down to the front desk to talk to the sergeant on duty.

  ‘I hope I did the right thing there, sir? Only the Super always likes to be kept informed of incoming aliens on her territory, and the Chief Super didn’t look entirely sweetness and light when he asked for you.’

  ‘You did absolutely the right thing, Sergeant Wheeler. It’s the Super’s station. Her rules. I just wanted to thank you, and to ask what was happening about the racially aggravated assault? You know the victim was my mother, I’m sure.’

  ‘Yes, sir, and we were all sorry to hear about it. The attacker is known to us; we were able to identify him from the mobile phone footage your CFI sent through. There’s an area car on its way now to find him and bring him in. With the form he’s got, we should be able to send him on a nice little holiday, keep him off the streets and make them a bit safer.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ll be in all day. Please can you let me know when he’s been brought in?’

  The sergeant hesitated.

  ‘Er, sir, you do know I can’t let you anywhere near him, don’t you? Only I know how I’d feel about anyone who did that to my mum, and I’d hate for any of us to have to try to arrest you.’

  ‘I promise to behave, sergeant. Just let me watch him on camera when he’s being interviewed, please. That’s all I ask. And do you know if there’s any news about the black VW, the one that ran me off the road on Dan Bank?’

  ‘Nothing as yet, sir, but all units are keeping an eye out. Can I ask, is this something to do with this latest case? Are you being targeted in connection with that?’

  Ted shook his head.

  ‘I doubt it. The first incident happened before I appeared at the press conference and I wasn’t high profile enough before that for anyone to know I’m involved. I think it’s from something older; maybe the Sabden House case.’

  ‘Well, you mind how you go, sir. You’re always polite to us mere mortals in uniform, and so are all your team. It’s not always like that, not in every nick, between CID and Uniform.’

  Ted was already getting texts from Trev not long after lunch, urging him to be sure to get home on time to eat with his mother. Ted wanted to catch up with his team before he could think of leaving. He’d thrown Marston a crumb of a lead but he wanted something much more substantial.

  Rob and Sal were back first from Wilmslow, but Ted hung on until Virgil and Maurice got in, to save having to go over everything twice. Both of them had good contacts on their patch, although Ted knew Maurice’s would often involve visiting all the pubs and bars in town. Since his serious injury, Maurice was at least limiting his alcohol intake.

  ‘Any signs of the murder weapon yet?’ Ted asked.

  ‘Nothing, boss, although Uniform are still searching. My best guess is that it went with the attacker in the car. I talked to the latest witness, the one who saw the car drive off. Nothing much to go on. Single male occupant in the vehicle; they couldn’t give much of a description. I tried, without leading them, but the best I got was young adult, perhaps twenties, dark hair, smartly dressed, suit and tie.’

  ‘Trying to look the part of a presentable copper who wouldn’t spook Mrs Ashworth, no doubt. Any chance of them doing a likeness that we could circulate?’

  ‘Wilmslow are working on that with the witness, but it’s likely to be only a vague one at best.’

  ‘Any further sightings of the car?’

  ‘Not yet, boss. At some point it drops out of sight, so it’s probable that the driver took it somewhere to change the plates.’

  ‘And that would most likely involve an accomplice, since the bogus officer could hardly turn up to meet Mrs Ashworth with a set of dodgy number plates tucked under one arm. Virgil, Maurice, do any of your contacts know anything to help us? Anyone who could be supplying fake ID of that kind of quality?’

  Both of them shook their heads. They were interrupted by a desk phone. Maurice was nearest to answer it.

  ‘Front desk, boss. They said to let you know your man’s just been brought in.’

  ‘Right, I’ll be downstairs, if anyone needs me. This is the charmer who put my mother in hospital, so I wanted to see him get booked.’

  Ted got another stern warning from Sergeant Wheeler that he was to behave himself and simply to watch the interview on camera without going anywhere near the suspect. Ted had no intention of doing anything which would give the man the slightest chance of avoiding going down for what he had done to his mother.

  The suspected attacker looked bigger and bulkier in the flesh than on the footage Ted had seen. He must have dwarfed his mother. His name was Owen Davies. The ultimate irony. A Welsh name for someone accusing a Welsh speaker of talking Polish. He already had a record, mostly for petty theft and taking vehicles without consent, but also assault charges, one arising from a pub brawl.

  Ted was sickened watching him being questioned. He didn’t deny his actions. He sought only to justify them by insisting the person he had pushed, as he put it, was speaking Polish in public and should not have been doing so. Ted stayed just long enough to see him charged then headed home to tell his mother the good news.

  Trev tried hard to keep the evening light and memorable but Ted couldn’t escape his feelings of guilt. He felt as if he was losing his mother for the second time in his life, as if he somehow could, and should, have been able to do more for her. The same feelings of failure he’d had to deal with over his father.

  ‘Sergeant Darling? I’m sorry to bother you at work. It’s Julia, your dad’s case worker. Have you got a minute?’

  ‘It’s fine, I was just going on a break. Is everything okay? Is Dad all right?’

  ‘It’s not an emergency or anything. But I don’t think he is all right, really. Do you?’

  Ted went quiet for a moment. She was right. He knew it. He’d been telling himself for some time he should do something. Take his father to the doctor. Get him some more help. Do something about his drinking, which was getting steadily worse.

  ‘Are you still there? I’ve just been for one of my routine visits. I’m concerned by how much weight he’s lost sin
ce I saw him last. Is he not eating properly?’

  ‘I try to get him to eat properly but he’s got very difficult about what he will eat. I leave sandwiches for him when I go out to work, and the carers are supposed to make him something but he doesn’t seem to have much appetite.’

  ‘And the drinking? Is that getting worse? I noticed he had a bottle of Scotch on the go. Do you buy alcohol for him?’

  ‘No! No, of course not.’ Ted was aware he sounded defensive but he couldn’t help himself. ‘The carers know they mustn’t get him any either, although I think he bribes some of them. And he can still get himself out and round to the offy. I’ve tried asking them not to serve him but of course he’s a good customer, they don’t want to lose the trade. I’ve also tried getting him to go to AA. He just went the once and said it wasn’t for him.’

  ‘Have you tried going with him?’

  There was no trace of reproach in her voice but it filled Ted with guilt. He knew he should be doing more to help his father, the person who’d been there for him and supported him when he was a child. He was a coward, he knew. Refusing to face the reality of what was happening.

  ‘I will try. Honestly, I’ll see what I can do to help him a bit more.’

  ‘And the incontinence problem? That seems to be much worse than when I saw him last. Is there nothing that can be done to help him? It would improve his dignity no end.’

  ‘He’s had a lot of trouble with his waterworks, since the accident, and it’s been getting worse. Especially with the drinking. He refuses to have an in-dwelling catheter. We have tried, but he can be a stubborn old bugger. He’s got single use ones and he is perfectly capable of using them. Trouble is, when he’s had a few, his hands shake too much and he just gives up.’

  It sounded like excuses. It was. Ted should be doing more and he knew it. The guilt was eating him up, driving him in his turn to drink more and more. Just one more snakebite with the lads. Anything to delay going home to find his father once more on the floor in his own mess.

  ‘What about incontinence wear?’

  Ted gave a short laugh, devoid of humour.

  ‘I’m a policeman. I shoot people for a living. But I’m not brave enough to tell my dad he needs to start wearing nappies.’

  ‘Would it help if I fixed up a review meeting? With your dad present, of course. And someone from the home carers. To discuss how we can meet his needs better. If I arrange it, would you be free to attend?’

  ‘It’s never easy, with work. My job’s not predictable. I’m never sure when I’m going to be free.’

  ‘We need to do something for him, Sergeant Darling, as a matter of some urgency now. It’s not good at all that he’s living like this. Not good for him and, I imagine, difficult for you, too. Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can set up, as soon as possible.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Ted was anxious to get out of the office at lunchtime on Monday. He wanted to call at the nearest estate agents’ office to at least test the water for putting his mother’s house on the market, as she’d asked him to.

  They’d said an emotional goodbye the previous morning. Ted had woken both her and Trev early with a cup of tea. Trev had about nine hours’ driving in front of him, doing the Amman Valley and back in the same day, so he’d asked Ted to make sure he was up in good time.

  Ted was consumed with guilt that it wasn’t him taking his mother, or at least going with them to share the driving. But with Marston on his back and the case going nowhere, he didn’t dare take the risk of absenting himself. There would be hell to pay if the Chief Super called a snap briefing and Ted was nearly five hours’ drive away.

  He grabbed a sandwich at his desk before deciding to walk round to the nearest agent. It would help him clear his head and organise his thoughts. He really didn’t want to be doing anything as drastic as putting the house up for sale yet. He still clung to the faint hope that his mother would decide not to stay in Wales, once she’d recovered from her ordeal. He realised he was being selfish but he wasn’t looking forward to losing her again so soon after she’d come back into his life.

  The agent was helpful, upbeat. She mentioned a possible asking price which seemed reasonable and Ted promised to let her know as soon as he had chance to discuss it with his mother. They’d need to sort out what to do with her things before letting the agent show anyone round.

  The number calling Ted’s mobile, as he set off to walk back to the station, was masked so he answered with a guarded, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Seriously slack, Gayboy. There’s not just me on your tail and you’ve not noticed either of us.’

  Ted recognised the voice immediately. And there was only one person who would ever dare use that nickname to him. He carried on walking, just slowing his pace slightly. The hairs on the back of his neck were bristling.

  ‘Understood,’ he said neutrally. ‘And do you have a suggestion of how to deal with the situation?’

  ‘I’ve got your back. He’s a rank amateur. He has no idea I’m there. Just lead us somewhere nice and quiet and we’ll sort it.’

  ‘Minimum force,’ Ted said, more in hope than anticipation, as the call ended.

  The man on the phone was Marty Green. His martial arts mentor. The man who had taught him everything he knew about self-defence and survival, plus a few skills Ted fervently hoped he would never have to use.

  Green was a hard man. Ex-Paras, ex-SAS, ex-mercenary. Although Ted was never sure if the ex still held true in the last case. He’d met him in his own days as an SFO, a Specialist Firearms Officer, when Green had taught him Krav Maga. Depending on how big a threat was posed by whoever else was following him, he knew he was in safe hands with Green as his rearguard. He just had no idea if he could control him sufficiently to stop things passing beyond the bounds of legitimate defence.

  There was a ginnel coming up not far in front of him. A passageway between buildings, high red brick walls making it a gloomy place, even in daylight. It wasn’t much frequented. It would fit the bill nicely.

  Ted ducked into it, walking along far enough to check there was no one around. Then he stopped and spun round lightly on the balls of his feet to face whatever threat was heading his way.

  His action clearly startled the man following him. Ted could see straight away what Green had meant about an amateur. Nothing about the way he held himself suggested much of a threat. Not even when a knife appeared in his hand and he flicked open the blade.

  He looked to be in his twenties. Skinny, acne marks on his cheeks, lank hair that looked in need of a wash poking out from under a knitted hat. Even with his weapon out, there was nothing particularly intimidating about him. Ted could have happily dealt with him himself, although he was more wary of tackling anyone with a knife since his serious injury from one.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Ted asked pleasantly, watching Green manoeuvre closer in total silence.

  Ted had no idea what concealed weaponry Green might be carrying. Whatever it was he knew he would have no need of any of it. He could easily deal with a would-be attacker of this calibre with his bare hands, which knew so many ways to kill. Ted was almost feeling sorry for his stalker.

  Green moved with the silent, stealthy menace of a panther. The man with the knife still had no clue as to the serious threat behind him. He lifted his knife arm and began to make wild, stabbing gestures towards Ted, which were clearly meant to be intimidating. Ted could see now that the hat was in fact a folded balaclava. His would-be attacker had obviously intended to pull it down before his prey saw him.

  The speed and efficiency with which Green moved was such that Ted could barely follow the movements. In short order, the knife clattered to the floor as the man’s arm was jerked up and out, the wrist bending back at such an angle that there was a loud, sickening crack as at least one carpal bone was fractured.

  With a gesture almost of contempt, Green flung the man against the wall, moving in close to block his entire body with his own, his forear
m across the failed assailant’s throat. His face was barely an inch from the other man’s as he spoke.

  ‘Listen carefully, sonny. I don’t like having to repeat myself.’

  His voice was quiet, almost conversational. The menace in it was such that even Ted felt an involuntary shudder.

  ‘This man is a friend of mine, and I don’t have many. You’re annoying him, with your silly little games. So why don’t you piss off back to whoever sent you and tell them next time they need to send a man to do a proper job.’

  ‘I don’t know who he was!’ the younger man gabbled, his face panic-stricken. ‘Some bloke come up to me in a pub and gave me some money. Told me to follow that bloke and scare him a bit. That’s all. I swear to God. Don’t hurt me!’

  ‘What did he look like, this man in the pub?’ Ted asked him.

  ‘I don’t know, honest. Just some bloke. Talked posh, like. Built like a rugby player.’ He threw a pleading look at Ted as he said, ‘Please don’t let him hurt me! I was just meant to follow you, scare you a bit. The knife was just for show, I swear.’

  ‘Was it you in the car? You ran me off the road on Dan Bank.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, honest. The bloke just told me to put the frighteners on you. Please just let me go. I won’t come near you again. Promise. Don’t let him hurt me. He’s a fucking nutter.’

  Green moved his own feet further apart and sneered as the front of the other man’s trousers darkened and a thin trickle of urine snaked its way towards his scuffed military-issue DMS boots.

  ‘You dirty little bastard. Think yourself lucky I don’t make you lick my boots clean. It’s about all you’re fit for. Now piss off, you little piss-weasel. And if I hear you’ve been anywhere near my friend again, I will find you, and I will eat you.’

  Green’s voice went up in volume at the end of what he was saying, so that the cowering man let out an involuntary sound like a whimper. Then he stepped back to let the other run for it, taking a threatening swing at him as he did. Ted would have bet money that the final threat would have made him lose more than bladder control.