by Edward Figg
This brought groans from those around him.
‘DI Taplow said that Harris had been seen getting on the bus. The driver remembers him quite clearly getting on at that stop because he had a very big backpack with him. He said it was one of those army camouflaged ones, all browns and greens. According to the driver, he got off at West Hythe. He then caught another to Folkestone where they have him on CCTV, getting off. They’re sending the tape over. After that, he just disappears into thin air. They have several street cameras around the area but he doesn’t show up on any of them. One other thing. A car was stolen about an hour after his arrival. That could have been him. It’s my guess, and also that of DI Tallow’s, that he’s heading either for the Channel Tunnel or the Cross-Channel Ferry at Dover. He’s put some men at the tunnel.’
‘He can’t stay on the run much longer. He must be getting desperate by now. He must have run out of his medication by now?’ said Jill Richardson.
‘On the run and desperate. God knows what he’s capable of. More killings, more abductions? It doesn’t bear thinking about,’ added Marcia Kirby.
‘This is why we need to get him. It won’t be long before we do. Every bobby in the south-east has his face imprinted on their brains. He seems to be set for the coast.’ He looked at the faces around the table. ‘I might even see about taking a team and going down there for a few days. I think this is where it’s all going to end. There’s nowhere left for him to run. It’s the final act. We’re closing in,’ said Carter.
*******
‘Well, if that’s lunch, then roll on dinner,’ said Hollingsworth, looking forlornly across at the fairy cakes in the canteen’s display cabinet. He pushed away his plate, with its remaining morsels of the shepherd’s pie, and looked across the table.
‘I checked with this Mrs Jenkins this morning to see if her mother had seen anybody around when that silver went missing, but according to her, her mother wasn’t out with the baby yesterday.’
Hollingsworth slowly stirred his coffee and looked into the face of PC Miller who, just a few moments ago, flopped down in the seat opposite. ‘So, no joy there?’
‘Don’t worry, Luke, me old china, coz your fairy godfather is here to help.’ A broad smile slowly crept across Miller’s face.
‘I think you mean, ‘godmother’? Anyway, I don’t believe in fairies. At least, not the ones with wings,’ said Hollingsworth, staring sadly into his coffee cup and thinking about the cakes.
Andy Miller, not a one to be easily deterred, continued to speak.
‘Got a call from Murdoch’s, the pawn brokers, not fifteen minutes ago; seems a lad came into his shop early this morning with a silver fish knife. Wanted to know how much it was worth and said he had more to sell. Old Murdoch smelt a rat and sent him on his way when he realised what it was. Murdoch remembered seeing silver on his list of stolen items. You know? The lists we send out to pawn brokers to keep an eye out for. He told this lad he wasn’t interested in buying it. Murdoch said he had a good look at it before he handed it back, and it was definitely Georgian.’ He opened his notebook. ‘Hallmarks confirms it as 1780 made by Joseph Hicks of Exeter.’ He closed his notebook. ‘And to top it off… guess what?’
‘What?’ said Hollingsworth, sitting up and feeling that finally he had a lead.
Miller rubbed his hands with glee. ‘He’s got CCTV.’
‘So, now I suppose you’re going to tell me it’s not bleeding working?’
‘Oh, ye of little faith. Yes, it’s working.’
‘Bloody brilliant. So, I take it you two want to be in on the action. Yes?’
‘You betcha,’ agreed Miller.
‘OK, Batman. The first thing I need you to do,’ he said, leaning across the table, ‘is for you to hop into your Batmobile and take Robin and run over to Murdoch’s and bring back that surveillance video.’
Andy Miller, without saying a word, picked up his cap from the table, stood up and headed for the door.
Hollingsworth stood up and headed for the cakes. This needed celebrating, he thought. Things were looking up.
******
‘So,’ said Bill Turner, walking up to the group that was gathered around the computer screen. ‘What are you watching, porn?’
‘Yeah, funny you should say that Bill. Got this from a pawn shop, but not the type you normally go to,’ said Hollingsworth, looking up at him and laughing.
‘This spotty-looking individual,’ said PC Alan Hobson, pointing at the screen, ‘was trying to sell knocked off gear to old Murdoch.’
‘Run it again,’ said Turner, pushing past Andy Miller to get a better view of the screen.
Hollingsworth replayed it.
‘Stop. Go back… Whoa, stop it there.’ Turner stared at the frozen image on the screen for a few seconds. ‘Well, well, well. If it ain’t my old friend Rembrandt, the one with a spray can.’
‘You know him, do you Bill? Hollingsworth said, looking at Turner then back at the screen.
‘Oh yes, I bloody well know him all right. The little scrote. I’m surprised you two buggers don’t recognise him,’ said Turner, turning and looking at the two PCs standing beside him.
Both Hobson and Miller turned back towards the screen.
Hobson studied it more closely saying, ‘It’s not the best quality and it is a bit grainy but it looks very much like Sha…’
‘Shaggy Sean,’ interrupted Turner. ‘Yes. That’s him for sure.’ Bloody crack head. Dawson was the little bastard responsible for putting that graffiti all over our car that day me and the DI went around to Harris’s place. He lives in those flats at the back of London Road.’
‘OK gents,’ said Hollingsworth, looking towards Miller and Hobson. ‘Let’s get a search warrant and turn his place over. After that we’ll invite him back for a cup of tea and a biscuit.’
Chapter 18
‘So, Luke, I believe you’ve made some headway with these thefts?’ said Carter, looking at him from across his desk. ‘Good work.’
‘Yes sir, thank you,’ he said, enjoying the short-lived praise. ‘But, I must say, it’s not all down to me.’ He smiled. ‘As much as I’d like to, I can’t take full credit for it.’ He went on to explain about the phone call PC Miller had taken from the pawn broker. ‘We have Dawson on the security camera trying to pawn one of the stolen items.’
‘So, how did you get on?’ asked Carter.
‘We have Dawson in custody, sir. Hobson, Miller and myself brought him in a while ago. He’s now cooling his heels downstairs. I’ve put him in number two interview room. Thought I’d leave the little sod to stew there for a while. We did a thorough search of the flat, took it apart. He must have the other stuff stashed somewhere else because all we found was the one fish knife and some crack cocaine hidden behind one of the radiators in the bedroom. There was ten grams. It’s enough to charge him with possession with intent to supply. That alone should put him away for quite a while.’
‘Should get him at least four years,’ said Carter, fingering the scar on his forehead. The scar came from when he was a young Detective Constable. He had fought with a man who had been on the run for two days after shooting his own wife. Finally, after two hours alone with the man on a roof top, he was able to seize an opportunity after the man had a momentary lapse of concentration. He went for the man, grabbing the gun. In the ensuing struggle, the gun went off. The bullet grazed Carter’s temple.
Hollingsworth stood up to go.
‘Ok, Luke. Let’s see if we can get this one wrapped up as soon as possible.’
‘Yes sir.’ He turned and walked out.
*******
Luke Hollingsworth switched on the recording machine and identified himself to the recorder as being present. PC Miller did likewise. He looked at his watch then gave the time and date of the interview and who was being interviewed. He sat for several moments just staring across the table trying to unnerve Dawson. Despite the coolness of the interview room, Sean Dawson was sweating. He also fidget
ed constantly. The room was sparsely furnished, just a table and three chairs. The chair that Dawson sat on was fixed to the floor. Sound-deadening tiles covered the walls. On one wall, there was a large one-way mirror directly facing Dawson. Behind this, PC Alan Hobson, Miller’s partner sat watching. The cold, harsh fluorescent lighting gave a slight bluish-green cast to everything in the room
‘So, Sean. You have waived your rights to have a lawyer present during questioning. Is that correct?’
Dawson just nodded.
‘For the benefit of the record, Sean Dawson has just nodded his head,’ said Hollingsworth.
‘Right Sean. Firstly, I’m charging you under section five, paragraph three of the Misuse of Drugs Act 1971. Possession of a controlled drug with intent to sell or supply. Do you understand the charge?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you anything to say to the charge?’
‘No.’
‘Ok Sean, now let’s get this other matter sorted. Luke Hollingsworth then read out a list of stolen items from the file in front of him.
He picked up the evidence bag with the fish knife inside and showed it to Sean.
‘We found this fish knife in your flat. Would you like to tell me about it? You’re going down for the drugs so you may as well tell us. We could even put in a good word for you and get you a reduced sentence. Where’s all the rest of it? What have you done with it? We know you haven’t sold it because you said, in the pawn shop, that you had more,’ said Hollingsworth, leaning across the table.
Dawson sniffed. ‘I got it from my mum. She gave it to me.’
‘Mum be buggered. We know from your records you haven’t got a mum. Who the flipping hell are you trying to kid. Pull the other one Shaggy! You’ll be telling us next you had a father as well,’ said Miller, throwing back his head and laughing.
‘I bleedin well have. I ain’t lived with her for years. Can’t stand the miserable old cow. She’s stark raving mad.’
Hollingsworth opened the file folder, ‘There’s no next of kin listed here. Where can we find this so-called mother of yours?’ asked Hollingsworth.
‘She ain’t got an address.’
‘Now, why don’t that surprise me? I’ll tell you why. It’s because she doesn’t exist,’ said Hollingsworth. ‘Now stop messing us about and tell us where the rest of the stuff is?’
‘She lives up near Green Hill estate, honest she does. She should be in a home like they offered her months ago the dozy old cow.’
‘That’s not a very nice thing to say about yer poor old mum,’ Miller chimed in.
Sean ran his hands through his greasy, unkempt, hair. ‘She kips down under the viaduct sometimes. She also has a squat at the old packing plant up on Hoxton Road.’
Hollingsworth and Miller looked at each other using silent words. They both knew what the other was thinking.
Hollingsworth pointed his finger directly at Dawson, then said in a slow calculated voice. ‘Are you seriously telling us that you want us to believe that old Maggie, the old girl with the pram, is your bleeding mother and that she nicked that stuff?’
‘You’re lying, because I know for a fact that old Maggie’s last name is not Dawson, it’s Chambers,’ said Miller, with a smirk.
‘She used her maiden name after my dad left. Can I have summat to eat. I’m starving. I know me rights,’ whined Dawson.
‘You’ll get fed when I say so,’ said Hollingsworth.
Miller looked at Luke Hollingsworth for a moment, then said. ‘The quickest route to the viaduct would be to go through the Green Hills Estate up Maple Drive and then along the bridle path through the woods. I’m wondering if the women that Harcourt-Brown saw with the pram could have been our Maggie?’
‘Yer know. I’m thinking the same thing myself,’ said Hollingsworth, slowly tapping his pen on the table. ‘Well. There’s only one way to find out.’ He put both hands flat on the table and stood up. ‘Interview suspended at’… he looked at his watch… ‘four thirty-five p.m.’ He switched off the tape.
As if by magic, the door opened and there stood PC Hobson.
‘Put our friend back in the cells, please, PC Hobson. I have to go and get a search warrant for a pram.’
*******
Friday 15th October 15th
Luke Hollingsworth rapped on the door frame of Carter’s office and popped his head in. ‘Got a minute Guv?’ he said.
‘Sure Luke, come on in. How did you get on with Sean Dawson? You hadn’t signed off when I left. They said you’d gone out?’
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’
After sitting down, Hollingsworth set about telling Carter what had developed the previous afternoon.
‘After we interviewed Sean Dawson, we then went off in search of Maggie. We took a WPC with us. It took a while to find Maggie. We eventually found her at the old packing plant getting ready to doss down for the night. Proper home away from home she had going there. Even had a chest of drawers. God know how she got that there. She had half of Kingsport in that ruddy pram. I’ve made a list of everything she had with her.’ He handed it to Carter who ran his eyes up and down it for a moment or two, then smiling, said. ‘Quite a bit of stuff here. Eight gnomes and a plastic bird bath? It’s amazing what people steal.’
‘Yeah. That was just some of the stuff she had in the pram. There was also an assortment of clothing. Whether they were hers or not is debatable. We found a few blankets and, as you can see, we recovered that dinner service. There was other stuff that was not on our original list of stolen property. We found a hockey stick, more garden ornaments, a mailbox and a pair of size seven riding boots. I didn’t know our Maggie was the equestrian type.’
‘Maybe the owners don’t even know their stuff is missing or maybe it’s just that they haven’t bothered reporting it.’ Carter said, looking again at the list.
‘True,’ said Hollingsworth, ‘But that bird bath is not on our list. Surly you’d notice that missing from your garden?’
‘I’ll tell you what.’ Carter leant back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. ‘Give Wally Short from the Advertiser a ring. Give him the list of these extra items. Tell him that we recovered them during an investigation. Say we believe they were stolen and if anyone can recognise any as their property and wish to claim them, they should contact us. And you make sure you tell him no fancy headlines. If I see anything about gnomes in custody, I’ll have his bollocks.’
‘Righto sir. I’ll pass that on,’ Luke said, laughing. ‘The main thing is, sir, she’s seventy-eight and I honestly don’t think it’s worth our time or in our best interest to prosecute her over this. She’s just a harmless old lady. I’ve had a word with the housing people over at Social Services this morning. They know her only too well and they say she’s in the early stages of dementia. They got her into a local place a while back, twice in fact and twice she ran off. They say she needs a secure unit. They’ve got her on their books for one, but at the moment there’s a bed shortage.’
Carter leaned forward, rested his elbows on the desk and interlaced his fingers.
‘If, as you say, it’s dementia then, yes, she’s best off in a home. It’s a bit of a dilemma. We can’t have her walking the streets nicking things. Especially in her condition. She’s a danger to herself.’ He stopped to think for a moment then said. ‘OK Luke, look, leave it with me and I’ll see if I can’t pull a few strings. See if I can call in a few favours and get her put somewhere safe. Where is she now?’
‘In one of the cells. She had a good night’s sleep and is now tucking into a full English.’
‘Fine. When she’s finished send her on her way with a flea in her ear. Tell her next time she misbehaves we’ll take away her bloody pram.’
******
Carter was on his way back from the canteen and was just about to go up the stairs, when Tom Crane came in through the security door from reception.
‘Sir.’
He turned. ‘Yes Tom
. What is it?’
‘Just thought you’d like to know. It’s those checks that the lads have been doing on the Keane’s house. Mrs Keane has just been in. She wanted to know about the security of her house. Said it was to be empty for about two months and could we do checks on it?’
‘Sounds fine, Tom. Where is she off to?’
‘I got all her details, mobile phone and her address if you need them. Told me where she was off to. Proper little chatterbox she was. Couldn’t shut her up. Worse than my blasted missus. Her old man has just retired so they’re off over to France to start decorating a house they’ve bought.’ They leave on Monday.
‘Well that’s good news,’ thought Carter. Two months. That puts her out of danger. One less worry.
‘Thanks for letting me know.’ He paused and thought for a while. ‘OK, the drive past, every shift, you can have that suspended after Monday. Make sure the duty inspectors are informed, will you Tom?’
‘Aye, will do sir.’
Carter continued up the stairs, along the corridor and back to his office.
It wasn’t until he was seated that it suddenly came to him. He picked up the phone and tapped in three numbers. It was quickly picked up and answered. ‘Sergeant Crane.’
‘Tom. Its DCI Carter.’
’Yes sir’.
‘A couple of questions for you…?’
Five minutes later, he put the phone down and sat staring at it. His brain processed the information he’d just been given. Deep in thought, he got up and walked over to the window and stared out. Making a decision, he returned to his desk and set about making more phone calls. That took twenty minutes. When he’d finished, he puffed up out his cheeks, exhaled, then said. ‘Holy shit.’
He got quickly up from his chair and went to the door and called across the room. ‘Ted, Marcia, Mike. In here now.’
He went back, sat down and waited for them to come in.
‘Come in, shut the door and sit down,’ he said.