The Fenton Saga: Never Say Goodbye / There Was No Body.

by Colin Griffiths

  ‘What’s going to happen to us?’

  He leaned forward, stubbed out his roach and Katy thought that perhaps she would have to think of another plan.

  ‘I don't know, man. I'm just the babysitter. Bill will be back. I think he's going on a road trip with you. But you’ll be okay. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have by now.’ he switched his gaze back to the television. His words had given them no comfort.

  ‘Why don't you just let us go?’ Katy asked.

  ‘No can do.’

  Neither girl pursued that option. Katy sighed, wiped her mouth with her hand, wishing she had never run away from home at fifteen. Maybe she would be with her mum now, but she knew that was unlikely. Her father’s dislike for her would never have changed. Always getting on at her. She thought of Mickey. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

  ‘I think he’s killed, Mickey.’ She said.

  Jezz showed no emotional reaction.

  ‘Hey man, that’s tough.’

  Guess he deserved it.’ He added.

  ‘He’s in the flat, dead.’ A tear came to Katy’s eye.

  ‘Please, Jezz,’ Wendy pleaded, ‘just go check on him. You can lock us in. We won't scream or anything. Just make sure he’s okay.’

  Jezz thought for a moment. He liked Katy and Wendy. They had been good company and offered him no hassle or resistance. What harm could it do?

  ‘I suppose.’

  He got up, took the keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door.

  ‘I’ll go look.’ he said.

  He opened the door and locked it behind him. He had walked down two of the three flights of stairs, when he heard talking. Could be anyone he guessed, but he took the last flight carefully. It seemed the voices were on the floor where he was heading. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he was still hidden from view of the passage with the flat entrance. He could see the flat where Mickey lay, Bill’s flat and the door was open. He could make out a figure of a policeman. He heard the radio crackle. He tried to make out the conversation. He needed to get closer, but he was sure he would be seen. He picked up words like ‘clothes’ and ‘sure’. The word ‘blood’ was said, but the words that struck him the most, were the ones the policeman spoke, ‘murder inquiry’

  He went back upstairs into his own flat. The girls were true to their word. They had not moved, not that there was anywhere to go. Jezz felt a bit nervous with coppers there, three floors below. He told the girls that Mickey was dead. They both cried as they sat on the settee. Jezz got his phone and called Bill. Bill answered straight away.

  ‘Get the girls out,’ he told Jezz, ‘before the place is swarming with police.’

  He told him to take the girls to the old pizza place, the one that had been shut down and boarded up. He would meet them there at the back.

  Slowly but surely, the three of them walked down thirteen flights of stairs and into Jezz’s car. They pulled away just as two police cars with the blues and twos flashing, arrived.

  ***

  Meanwhile, the alleged dead person, Mickey Bolan, sat in the car that he had stolen, three hundred yards from the flat. He had seen the police arrive. He had seen Jezz take the girls, but he had not seen Bill. He guessed that Jezz was taking them to Bill. He started the stolen Focus and followed Jezz. The police arriving in the squad cars paid no attention. ‘Time to party.’ Mickey said.

  Back in Ashbourne, less than twelve hours after Wendy had gone missing, Sergeant Tracy Bates was informed that the Missing Person inquiry had now been upgraded to a possible murder inquiry. She was ordered to inform the Fenton’s. Another Sergeant was on his way to inform Mrs Cross, Wendy’s mother.

  Daniel, Todd, Becky and Carol were sitting, working out what to do, when there was a knock on the door. It was Chief Inspector Simon Goldstone and Sergeant Tracy Bates.

  They greeted Daniel as a friend, but Daniel wasn't interested in friendship at this time. He regarded the police officers as a nuisance. The four house occupants showed no emotional reaction, when they were told what had been found at the flat in Bristol. Todd and Daniel stared poker-faced, making no comment. Carol went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She did not offer the visitors a drink. Becky sat looking out of the window as if it were just a normal day. She was, in fact watching some kids playing football in the street. It was just a normal day in those children's lives. She wondered when their family would next have a normal day.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you need to tell me?’ the Inspector asked.

  ‘We've told you all we know.’ said Daniel.

  Simon didn’t believe him. He didn’t believe any of them. Their reaction to it being upgraded to a murder inquiry was not right. It was as if he was telling them nothing new. There was no reaction, no questions as to how or why, no what happens next? Nothing. They didn’t want them there. He could see that. He just didn’t know why. Something wasn’t right.

  ‘I've upgraded it to a murder inquiry Daniel, so that I can put my best men on it. We have no reason to believe Wendy has been murdered, though we have reason to believe she has been hurt. The lab tests will confirm that. I've fast tracked them, and we should know in hours.’

  ‘You want a medal?’ Todd asked.

  The Inspector ignored the question.

  ‘There has to be a reason why he's taken her.’ The inspector continued, ‘if you hear from him, you must let us know immediately.’

  ‘We will.’ said Daniel.

  He stood as if to show them out. The officers ignored the hint.

  Goldstone stood firm, his voice stronger, more urgent. ‘He's a violent man. If there is anything you know, you must tell me.’

  ‘How do you know it’s him?’ asked Carol. She had come back into the room and she was standing by the door.

  ‘What do you mean?’ the Inspector said.

  ‘Well, you've found some clothes in my ex-husband’s flat. By all accounts, it was a drug den. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was a number of people. Have you found out who took her?’

  The Inspector, not liking her tone, said,

  ‘We have leads on that. We believe the people who took her were the same couple, who were in the cafe. We have no confirmation of that and ...’

  Carol interrupted.

  ‘Are you idiots. Of course they took her.

  So start looking for them.’ Added Becky.

  ‘I know you’re upset . . .’

  Again Carol interrupted, her voice growing louder, stronger, more confident.

  ‘Don’t you dare patronise me, just get out!’

  The two officers started to leave.

  ‘Keep us informed.’ Goldstone said. ‘Would you like me to leave Sergeant Bates here?

  ‘That will not be necessary.’ Becky said, immediately.

  Daniel escorted them to the door. As they were just about to walk out, Goldstone turned round and looked at Daniel, while Bates walked to the car. Their eyes met. Goldstone’s look was sincere and he could see in Daniel’s eyes that he was hiding something. He held out his hand for Daniel to shake, Daniel’s hand met his. The Inspector noticed it was sweaty.

  ‘What are you hiding from me, son?’ he said.

  ‘Can you do me a favour?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Can you call the Sweeney off? You have gone way, way too far.’ he looked at Simon, solemnly.

  ‘You know I can't do that. If you’re holding information, that could make you an accessory. You know that, don’t you?’ Challenged the inspector.

  ‘Then I’ll have to do your investments from a prison cell.’ Daniel went inside the house and closed the door.

  The Inspector called Bates over. ‘Watch them 24/7.’ he said.

  ‘Will do sir’ she said. ‘Did you notice the reaction, or lack of it?

  The Inspector stared at the house.

  ‘He wants me to call off the search. Said he could deal with it. Something’s not right.’ He turned looked at Tracy.
She smiled a nervous smile.

  ‘He's a good man. He wouldn’t be involved in anything corrupt.’

  Simon’s thoughts went AWOL for a moment. Not corrupt. No, just the finest tax dodger in the country. ‘Maybe not,’ said Goldstone, ‘but he's up to something and I want to find out what.’

  Daniel went back into the room. The others waited patiently.

  ‘Time to move it up a stage, I think Todd,’

  ‘The thought had crossed my mind.’ He answered.

  ‘What’s the plan,’ Carol asked.

  Chapter 22

  Todd was six, Daniel eleven. The young lad had grown big and strong and looked more like a fifteen year old. It was Cardiff. It was April, Easter Sunday. It was unusually warm for April. The sun shone, the temperature lifted to a warm sixty six degrees. The garden of the modest bungalow was vast, an array of trees, bushes, flower beds, a large green house to the side, a shed in the corner. Two kidney-shaped lawns on one of which stood a children's play area that Vera and Doug had put in for the boys, when they visited, swings, a seesaw and a climbing frame.

  Doug had tried to build a tree house, but his age had got to him and he was unable to complete it. They loved having the grandchildren over, in their old age. It gave them comfort and kept them feeling young and focussed. For a long time; they had tried to persuade Carol to bring the boys to live near them, so they could spend more time with them and give Carol some more free time. Carol had refused, even when the offer came of free accommodation as her parents had offered to pay the rent on a house nearby. She liked Ashbourne. The kids liked Ashbourne, bad memories and all.

  The garden party was in full swing, the barbecue roaring. Burgers sizzled, sausages fried and the beer flowed. There were six other couples there, with eleven other children whose ages ranged from two to nine. The others had been childhood friends of Carol’s. She could only remember three of the six other women that were there, but everyone was in good spirits. Daniel was the oldest child there. It made him feel good, as if he was responsible. They climbed the frames, played on the swings and kicked a ball into the mini goal that had been set up. A table full of soft drinks, beer and lager, kept needing to be restocked by Doug as everyone tucked in to the goodies on offer.

  A rather drunk man in his twenties called Mal Jones was there. Carol could remember him from school, a bully. Mal decided it was time to start the Easter egg hunt. A total of fourteen eggs had previously been hidden amongst the trees and the bushes by Doug. The children were given large wicker baskets to collect the eggs. These were far too big for the younger children to hold, but they didn’t complain. They all stood in line until the ex-school bully said ‘Go!’ and the children ran in every direction. Baskets in tow, excitement in the air, whilst Daniel stood and watched, laughing as the children shouted and screamed in joy. Yes, it was a good day for the Fenton’s.

  The adults were all sitting on various kinds of garden furniture as well as six kitchen chairs that had been brought out. They drank beer and lager and chewed on chicken whilst the children searched for the hidden Easter eggs. It was only ten minutes later when they all saw Todd running towards them, his basket laden with eggs. Everyone looked surprised, as he counted out thirteen of the fourteen eggs that had been hidden.

  ‘That Sally Grimshaw got the other one’ he said, ‘I found it, but she took it off me.’

  Everyone looked on in amazement except Daniel, he smirked and, rolled his eyes.

  ‘Todd,’ Carol said, ‘how did you find them so quickly?’ Todd grinned.

  ‘Bloody obvious!’ said the school bully, ‘He bloody knew where they were. You told him.’ casting an accusing look at Carol.

  ‘I did no such thing.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.’ Doug forcibly said. ‘It’s just a game. We can hide some more, and let the other kids find them. Maybe Todd was watching when we hid them and we didn’t know.’ He looked at Todd and gave him a ‘cheeky bugger’ smile.

  Todd just shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Whatever,’ he said.

  ‘Must have a good memory,’ a woman in her thirties said and laughed as she picked up another burger and took a bite. The drunken bully slumped in a chair and opened another can of Fosters. The kids came running back, some in tears, but the tears soon stopped when Todd gave each of them an egg. Off they went, running into the garden, all of them winners. The party was soon back in flow, no one taking any real notice of what had happened.

  Except for Carol. Another strange event in the yet short life of Todd and Daniel Fenton. They never ceased to amaze her, never stopped making her proud. Daniel saw a little concern on his mother’s face, and went over and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him. Todd came over, not wanting to miss out on the hugs. Carol hugged him too. She had both children held close to her.

  ‘I told you not to find them all straight away.’ Daniel said.

  ‘Well, I told you I didn’t want to play. It’s a stupid game.’

  Carol looked at both boys.

  ‘Did you know where they were, Todd?’

  Todd released himself from his mother’s grip; and went running into the garden saying,

  ‘Nah. I just felt where they were.’

  Daniel gripped his mother’s hand. She noticed the strong grip from a boy at such a young age.

  ‘He's fine, mum. He's just good at finding things.’

  The party flowed on as Daniel walked over towards the drunken bully.

  ‘Would you like another beer?’ he asked the bully, slumped in his chair with a full can in his hand.

  The bully said ‘Yeah.’

  Daniel touched the bully on his shoulder. The bully didn’t like it, almost as if he had been gripped in a vice by his shoulder. Daniel bent down whispering in Mal’s ear,

  ‘He's good at finding things and if I ask him to, he can find out where you live. Now you wouldn't want that, would you?’ He released his shoulder and walked away.

  The bully sat looking at Daniel as he walked on, not knowing what had just happened. He felt strange. There was a strange feeling burning up inside him. He didn’t like it. It had happened when Daniel had touched him, he thought and as he looked at Daniel walking away, without realising what he was doing; he took his can of lager and poured the whole contents over his head. He just sat there in the chair looking liked a drowned rat. Everyone turned around to look. The bully sat as if nothing had happened. He ate a burger that was covered in lager.

  ‘Why are you all looking at me?’ he asked.

  People stopped staring and went on partying.

  Carol noticed Daniel, who stood by the fence, watching the drunken bully. He was laughing, laughing like a drain. She looked at the bully then back at Daniel. She frowned. How on earth had Daniel done that?

  Chapter 23

  Simon Goldstone sat in the briefing room. His eagerness to get to the bottom of Wendy’s disappearance had more to do with his dodgy investments and overseas banking, than anything else. His feeling was that as long as Daniel was involved in this, he would not be focussed. So his priority was to find the girl, dead or alive. She must be found and perhaps, he thought, he might even be able to put that bastard Bill Fenton away forever. It was eleven pm, late for a briefing, and the team show their anxiety. Tracy Banks was there, along with two Detectives and two Constables, a large team, considering it had only been a few hours since the girl went missing.

  The grey room was stuffy and depressing in its looks. Three tables, each with four plastic chairs, where the team was sitting spread out amongst the tables. At the front was a raised stage about twelve inches high, sat on it was a desk. Notice boards and incident boards adorned the wall behind it. There was just one computer on the desk and a telephone. Some of the boards held information from other cases.

  Goldstone used the white board, on which were the names:

  Wendy Cross - missing

  Bill Fenton - suspect

  Katy Harrison - suspect Mickey Bolan - suspect Daniel Fenton -
???

  Todd Fenton - ?

  ‘Here’s what we know.’ Goldstone said, ‘She didn’t return home from work today.’ He paused. ‘Okay, okay, I know what you’re all thinking, it’s only been six hours, but we have good reason to believe she is in imminent danger.’

  ‘From whom, sir?’ asked Detective Stuart Thomas, a slightly overweight man in his fifties, who was chewing on his pen and not looking really interested.

  Goldstone waved his hand as if to say I'm coming to that.

  ‘Bill Fenton.’ He paused, as if to let the name sink in. ‘We believe he's kidnapped Wendy Cross as some form of revenge against his estranged wife and children. However, we do not think he acted alone. Katy Harrison and Mickey Bolan, we know are acquaintances of Fenton’s. At this moment, we have been unable to contact either. We know these two had been; observing Wendy Cross at the cafe where she worked. CCTV is available and I suggest you all look at it before you leave tonight. Get yourselves familiar with their faces. I need to speak to these people.’

  ‘Was the blood at the scene, Wendy’s, sir?’ asked a young Constable, Dylan Williams, who had been on the force for three years and had shown real promise. He was one of Goldstone’s favourites and loathed by Tracy Bates.

  ‘Yes. The blood results have been fast tracked, and they belong to Miss Cross, as do the clothes. However, there was other blood that as yet has not been identified. The good news is that the loss of blood belonging to Miss Cross was low at the scene and, is very unlikely to have been life threatening. Our priority at this moment, is to find Harrison, Bolan and Fenton. They are the key to this. The Bristol police Force will give you all the help they can.’ There was a smirk from almost everyone.

  Goldstone continued.

  ‘Whilst it will lead us into their jurisdiction, this is our case and nothing happens without my say so.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We are working on the known associates of Fenton, but everyone seems to have gone to ground. No one’s speaking.’