by Edward Figg
Carter tossed the last of the paperwork into the out tray and heaved a sigh of relief. He’d been trying to finish it for days. No wonder that Marsh had had a heart attack. ‘Doing both jobs has knobs on,’ he said aloud. He heard the doors open. He looked out through the open door of his office and saw Marcia Kirby entering the room. She was followed in by PC Alan Hobson wheeling a large box on a trolley. Curious, he got up and walked out of the office and over to where the pair was talking.
‘What have we here? Is it Christmas already?’
‘PC Hobson here, tells me they’re replacing the old office printers sir,’ said Kirby.
‘That's right sir,’ said PC Hobson. ‘This new printer is a lot faster and more up to date. I’ve just finished installing another one downstairs.’
Carter looked at the machine that Hobson was unpacking, and said, ‘Into this kind of thing, are you Hobson?’
‘Yes sir, computers.’
‘It's all beyond me.’ Before Carter could say anything further, the phone in his office rang. He went to answer it. Hobson looked at Kirby and said, ‘Blimey Sarge, I get the impression that the DCI's a bit of a Luddite?’
She watched him for a while as he plugged in the cables and other leads. He popped in a cartridge then stood back admiring his handiwork.
'And now,' he said, waving his hands over the keyboard like some demented magician, 'the test.’ He moved the cursor across the screen of the computer and clicked the mouse button. Sod all happened.
'I know I’m just a mere woman, constable, and far be it from me to interfere with boys and their toys, but would it not work better if you were, to say, err, like put some bloody paper in it?’
Hobson opened up the Xerox and gave her a sheepish smile. ‘Shit.’
A few minutes later, the printer spat out its first sheet of paper.
She walked off leaving Hobson to clear up. ‘Mr. Packard would be real proud of you constable. Where would we be without you?’
‘Actually, it was a Yank. Chester Carlson who invented the Xerox, not Packard’, he mumbled, when she was halfway across the room.
Scooping up a few bits and pieces, he tossed them into the empty printer box and walked off mumbling under his breath about smart arse, know-it-all, female sergeants.
Carter picked up the phone. He recognised the voice of the ACC. Carter had time for the Assistant Chief Constable. He liked the man. He had pushed up through the ranks. The ACC always had time for the troops and he was always prepared to listen. The first thing that ran through Carter's mind was that ACC was going to take the murder investigation out of his hands and pass it over to MIT. The last thing he wanted was to have the Murder Investigation Team running all over the station disrupting the CID office.
‘Good morning sir.’
‘Ah, yes. DCI Carter, Bob, good morning to you. Hope you are well?’
‘Yes sir, I’m fine thanks.’
‘I’m calling to let you know about Superintendent Marsh. He’ll not be returning. He's going to take early retirement.’
‘I know he’ll be missed by all of us here sir.’ Hoping like hell the ACC would believe him, Carter added, ‘We’ll be sorry to lose him sir. He was a fine officer and an inspiration to us all.’ Carter was sure that Marsh's lack of ability as a leader and the fact that he was a lazy sod had not gone unnoticed by the higher echelons at headquarters. He was sure they’d be glad to see the back of Marsh.
‘Having him sitting around the house all day long, it's poor Mrs Marsh that I feel sorry for,’ thought Carter. He came back to the present as the ACC continued speaking.
‘I believe you are acquainted with Janice Watkins? You worked with her for some time I understand,’ said Bishop.
‘Yes sir. I am. We served together at Canterbury for many years.’ He smiled as a few memories came flooding back.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘she's recently been promoted to Superintendent. She'll be taking over from Mr Marsh.’ The ACC went silent for a few moments then said, ‘Do you have any problems with that?’
It had been at least five years since he'd last spoken to Janice Watkins. He’d lost contact with her after she was promoted to Chief Inspector and moved to Sussex. He tried to recall when it was. He was sure it was around ‘05 when she went in Brighton. Thinking it would be good to catch up and talk over old times, he smiled.
He would be glad to have her as his new boss. She was a determined woman and got things done and was not afraid to say what needed to be said, even to those above her. Carter was pleased about her promotion. The top of the ladder was always her ambition. Even in the early days as a beat bobby she had her sights set high.
Carter felt both relieved and happy. This new development meant that he could carry on with the investigation and not be tied to a desk. His job was out on the streets. It's where he wanted to be. It's where he felt at home.
‘No problem with that at all sir. I look forward to working with her again. We’ll get on just fine. She's a good copper.’
‘Ok, that’s fine. One other thing, about last night’s murder’.
Carter felt he was about to have his legs kicked from under him. He was prepared for a fight to keep the investigation
‘Fill me in on the details.’
He set about detailing the night's events and the steps that had been implemented. He explained how he had sent his officers out to interview the victim's friends and work colleagues.
‘OK, seems you have it all under control,’ said Bishop, pausing, before saying, ‘Do you need any more manpower?
‘Is this a subtle way of moving in the MIT?’ Carter wondered to himself.
‘As you well know sir, CID here, have always been two officers short.’ He instantly regretted saying it, feeling he might just have dug his own grave.
‘OK. Well, this time the circumstances warrant a change'
‘Here it comes,’ he thought. ‘The crunch.’
‘There are a couple of bright DCs I’ve in mind. Both have asked for permanent transfers’.
Permanent transfers? He hadn’t expected that one. That said it all. The ball was well and truly back in his court. He breathed a sigh of relief.
‘I’ve had good reports about the pair of them and I'm sure they will be an asset to CID. I’ll get them to you. Jill Richardson is over at Ashford, she also worked at the Yard for a while. Luke Hollingsworth is in Faversham. Richardson is a first-rate FLO. Her training as a Family Liaison Officer won't go amiss. They are both on your doorstep, so to speak. Both actually live in Kingsport. God knows how they ended up where they are now. Anyway, I’ve already set the wheels in motion and they are all yours. I’ll get them to you early next week. I’ll have them there Monday. Superintendent Watkins will also be taking over then, as well,’ said Bishop.
‘Thank you, sir. That's good news.’
‘One other thing, there's an opportunistic thief working around your neck of the woods. You and the other stations in the division should have received details. I believe these were sent out last night. He's getting at cash registers in some of the bigger department stores and grocery chains. We don’t know just how he’s doing it and getting away unnoticed. No one has seen him. He doesn't take all the cash. Only helps himself to just enough so that it's not noticed until they cash up in the evening.’
‘OK, sir. Yes, I did see the bulletin and we have sent out an alert to our Chamber of Commerce. They'll pass it on to their members.’
‘OK. Good, then I will leave you to get on with things.’ Bishop said goodbye. Carter replaced the handset.
He leant back in his chair, linked his fingers together then placed his hands behind his head. ‘Good. MIT out. Carter in.’
The phone rang again. He picked it up. It was Ted Baxter calling from the hospital.
‘Yes Ted. How is it going? What did you find out?’ he said.
‘We’ve had a word with personnel and she has a next of kin, thought it best to let you know straight away. The parents live here in Ki
ngsport.’ Baxter gave him the address.
‘OK, good,’ he said, writing it down. He then looked at his watch. ‘I'll go over there right now. Thanks, Ted’
He put down the receiver and walked out of his office and over to Kirby's desk.
‘Marcia, we’ve got an address for Connor’s next of kin. It’s only a short drive away. Get a pool car. You and I will drive over, I'll give you directions.’
*******
As Carter and Kirby walked down the stairs into the reception area, Carter noticed a man talking to the Sergeant Crane. As the man turned, he saw it was Wally Short, the reporter on the Kingsport Advertiser. He’d spoken to him many times, but before Carter could reach the exit, Short spotted him and quickly made his way over.
‘Chief Inspector, I know there was an incident last night and a nurse was murdered. Is there any more information?’
‘Yes Wally. That’s correct, other than that, I can't give you any further details at the moments. There'll be a full media conference later this afternoon.’
‘If you could answer just a few more questions?’
With Kirby by his side, Carter said, ’Not now Wally. Later.’ He picked up the pace and moved quickly out of reception and out through the sliding doors.
They drove up the steep incline to the house and pulled up outside a neat detached bungalow with views that looked out over the hills, beyond Kingsport, and down the side of the valley. It was a peaceful, small, decorative street of only six houses, all on one side of the street. The other side of the street was open grassland. The gardens were well kept, tidy and organised with manicured lawns. The garden, with the wrought iron gate that Carter pushed open to enter, was no exception. The lawn was well cared for with borders of brightly coloured flowers and rose bushes. They filled the air with their perfume.
As he knocked on the door, a wave of anxiety swept over him. Telling a family, that they had lost a loved one was never easy, especially face to face. He looked at Kirby, silently wishing there was an easy way for him to soften the blow that was about to fall on those in the house. There was none.
The door was open by a man in his early seventies. He was smoking a pipe and had a newspaper in his hand. He removed the pipe and spoke.
‘Yes?’ He said in a gruff-sounding voice. ‘What can I do for you?’
Showing his warrant card, Carter said, ‘Good morning, sir. I’m Detective Chief Inspector, Bob Carter, and this is Sergeant Marcia Kirby. Are you Mr John Connor?’
Looking at Marcia Kirby, Connor said, ‘Yes, I am.’
‘May we come in please, sir?’ said Kirby.
‘Yes. I assume it's about that drunken fight across on the common last night?’ said Connor, leading them down the hall and into the kitchen.
Carter noticed the many religious pictures on the walls.
‘Seems a bit strange sending a Chief Inspector for a minor punch up,’ Connor said, as they walked into the kitchen.
The woman standing at the sink turned and looked at them.
‘They are from the police, dear.’ He introduced Clara, his wife.
‘About that fraças last night, is it?’ she said, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Young people drinking, got a bit out of hand, singing and shouting. By the time the police arrived they’d all gone.’
Carter interrupted her. ‘No. Sorry. We haven’t come about that.’ He paused and looked at Kirby.
Kirby could see he was trying to gather the right words. She stepped forward before Carter could continue.
She looked at him, and then at the Connors. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but there’s no easy way I can prepare you for this. I think it best if you both sat down. I’m afraid I have some distressing news for you.’
Looking confused, frightened and apprehensive, they both sat.
‘It's about you daughter, Allison.’ She paused, lifting up Clara Connor’s hand and holding it with hers, she looked into her face and said in a low and compassionate voice, ‘I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m afraid Allison is dead.’
There was a long silence before any of them spoke. Clara Connor put both hands on the table and just stared straight at the wall in front of her. John Connor sucked in his breath and breathed out noisily through his nose. He was the first to speak.
‘What happened?’ he said, in a shaky voice.
Carter replied softly, ‘She was murdered.’
‘Oh, my God!’ screamed Clara Connor, putting both hands up to her face. The colour drained from her face and she started to cry. Her husband got up and came around the table and put his arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her.
Wanting to ease their grief Kirby said, ‘I'll make you both some tea.’ She went and put the kettle on the gas stove, then went through the cupboards and hunted out some crockery.
‘Where did it happen. At home?’ Clara asked, choking back the tears.
‘Yes, it was. I’m sorry, but are you up to answering a few questions?’ Carter said, ‘Or would you prefer we came back later?’
There was just a hint of a nod from a distraught John Connor. Pain showed on his face and his hands were shaking.
‘No, Chief Inspector. Please go ahead, ask your questions,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ Carter paused for a moment then moved over and sat down at the table. ‘Can you tell me when you last saw your daughter?’ he asked.
John Connor looked at his wife and said, ‘Last week. Wednesday, I think it was, wasn't it?’
His wife, in a quivering voice, confirmed it. She said, ‘Yes it was Wednesday afternoon. We all had coffee together in the Hay Market Shopping Centre. She did phone yesterday about three thirty asking if I would take her library books back for her. She said she didn’t have time because she was going to Manchester today for some advanced nursing course. I was going to go around later today and collect them from Mary, her flat mate.’
‘How did she sound?’ asked Carter.
Clara Connor wiped a tear away with her handkerchief and said, ‘She was happy, told me she was looking forward to going to Manchester.’
Kirby put a cup of tea in front of each of them and then handed another to Carter.
They both sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea. Clara Connor's hand shook slightly making the cup rattle in the saucer.
Kirby spoke quietly. ‘Can you tell us, did she have any close friends, boyfriends?
‘She had lots of friends. Most of them from her workplace. As for boyfriends, there was one, but they broke up a few weeks ago, he was a doctor, Martin something. Sorry, I can’t remember his last name. This has all come as shock. I just can’t think straight. From what she told me he wanted a serious relationship but Allison wanted her career established before she committed herself to anything long term,’ Clara Connor said.
‘How did he take it; do you know?’ Pushing away his tea cup, Carter said, ‘Was he upset?’
Honest puzzlement crossed her face. ‘I don’t know.’ She paused, looking bewildered, ‘I really don’t know.’
‘OK, thank you. We have enough to go on with for the moment. We’ll go and leave you in peace. Is there anyone you would like us to contact for you?’
With her eyes full of tears, she looked up at her husband. ‘John, please, tell me this is not happening?’ Unable to control herself, Clara Conner broke down, tears streaming down her cheeks.
******
As Carter and Kirby made their way back down the garden path to the car, he turned to her and said. ‘Thanks for what you did back there Marcia. It's never easy telling people they've lost a loved one, especially when they're victims of murder. The way you acted. It was caring and compassionate. Thanks.’
Kirby blushed slightly.
‘It's fine. It was what I wanted to do, sir. I really felt for them’.
Out on the pavement, he paused and looked back at the house. ‘Their world has just been torn apart,’ he said.
Kirby understood, smiled and said, ‘Yes. It's never
easy.’ She got in the driver's seat and started the engine.
‘We need to catch this bastard,’ she said.
Carter just looked straight out through the windscreen and slowly nodded his head. They drove away from the house in silence. Both lost in their own thoughts.
Chapter 6
Kirby walked across the CID area and set about making coffee. She made two, handing one to Carter. Dave Lynch and Mike Reid were back from the nurses’ quarters. Reid was busy typing on his keyboard. Seeing Carter enter, he rose from his desk and walked over.
‘We've talked to her flatmate, Ashcroft, and the other three nurses,’ he said, opening his note book. ‘Firstly, she did quite a bit of dating. There was nothing long term until she went out with this junior doctor, Martin Shelby, a surgeon. According to one of the nurses there was a bit of a row between Shelby and the deceased because he wanted a steady relationship and she didn’t. Connor called a halt to it and told him hop it. Dave got straight on to Sergeant Baxter, over at the hospital, and asked him to check into it from that end.’
The door at the far end of the room opened, Baxter and Turner walked back in. The pair looked tired and frustrated. They came over to where Carter and Reid were standing by the incident board.
‘How did you two make out at the hospital?’ asked Carter.
‘There’s a lot of corridors and a bloody lot of people to talk to,’ said Baxter.
Turner said, ‘Nobody had a bad word to say about Connor. She was well-liked and had a great future in front of her. She was a model nurse. She took her job very seriously. Dave Lynch gave us a name to talk to, a Martin Shelby. We spoke to him and he freely admitted he had the hots for her, liked her a lot. He was pretty cut up about her death. He'd had a busy evening. Spent all his time in Accident and Emergency, dealing with five car crash victims Had to do an amputation. He's got a rock-solid alibi. He was in surgery at the time of her death and was there until gone midnight. Plenty of witnesses. He also done an emergency appendectomy.’
‘There was one other thing,’ said Lynch. He went over to his desk and came back with a book. He held it out for them to see. ‘It's this.’