*
Having finished his egg and cress sandwich in the canteen, Vinnie checked his phone again. No messages. He rang Lesley’s mobile and it went to voicemail. He was about to leave a message, when he realised he’d paused too long, so he cut the connection. Ring her at work? No, better not. Got to be on her terms, otherwise any civilised chat is doomed before it gets going.
He finished his cup of tea and went out to the car park.
Traffic was light, though give it a couple of hours and the rush would start, it was always worse on a Friday. Must be nice to be in a job where you can always finish early for the weekend. Having every weekend off for starters would be bliss. One day perhaps.
It took an hour to reach junction thirty-one of the M6, and Vinnie passed the time wondering what he’d say to Lesley when he next saw her. The trouble was that he wasn’t really sure what the problem was. He didn’t think he’d changed, but it was hard to be objective about oneself. This job doesn’t help, that’s for sure.
As he drove down New Hall Lane in Preston, he turned his thoughts back to the task in hand and knew he would have to play this carefully. At some point, George Piper would have to account for his actions along with Bob Dawson. But he didn’t really want to tell him what he knew and scare the guy off; he’d probably do a runner and they might never see him again. It was a warm day and he had the car window half down, enjoying the aroma emanating from the various food outlets that lined this busy thoroughfare. It was making him hungry again, especially the curry smells. He hadn’t had a curry for ages, well not at home anyway. Lesley didn’t like spicy food.
He soon found the block of terrace houses he was looking for. All pavement-fronted, with most of the front doors covered in road dirt. He parked in a side street and walked to the green door. No answer. He knew from experience that certain people rarely, if ever, answered unsolicited knocks on the door for a variety of reasons. He persisted and made as much noise as he could. If someone was home they’d usually come to the door if only to tell you to sod off, but no one came. He tried shouting through the letterbox, but that also failed. Peering through the gap revealed nothing other than a short, badly decorated hall, with two closed inner doors and a flight of stairs at the end.
He tried the neighbours and eventually received a reply three doors away. The middle-aged man who answered didn’t look best pleased at being disturbed, didn’t look as if he’d been up long, and Vinnie was guessing that wasn’t because he was a hard-working night shift worker. Anyway, according to Mr Grumpy, he’d told that ‘other one’ he didn’t know his neighbours, and had no intention of ever getting to know them. He claimed all the properties were rented through an agency. Most people had only lived here a few months, and most didn’t stay too long.
“I thought you didn’t speak to your neighbours,” Vinnie couldn’t resist saying.
“Funny guy,” Mr Grumpy answered before slamming the door shut.
Vinnie had forgotten about the joys of ‘going on the knocker’, or doing house-to-house enquiries as it was called, such were the privileges of rank.
He tried all the corner shops anywhere nearby the address and drew similar negative responses. Armed with an old mug shot that Delany had given him; he was hoping that local traders could be more helpful. They were: none had ever seen the elusive Mr Piper. The small result he did manage was finding the local postie in a neighbouring street. At first he was reticent to help, confidentiality and all the usual, but when Vinnie wrote the name down on a piece of paper and showed it to the guy he was good enough to nod. At least he now knew that Piper still lived there, for sure. Then he remembered that the local DS had managed to find a communicative neighbour that said the guy who lived there worked away during the week. He thought about ringing the DS to find out which house he’d got that info from, then thought better of it. The DS would probably be offended, as if Vinnie could get more info than he’d managed and, in any event, it was probably one of the addresses he’d received no reply from.
The return trip to Rochdale was actually quicker than the outbound one. He pulled on to a petrol station forecourt on his way back to the nick, deviating to the one near his home, a creature of habit, always liked to use his local one when in the area. He wasn’t sure why though; no doubt Dr Greymore would have a theory about it.
Having filled up and paid, Vinnie had just got back into the driver’s seat when his mobile rang, ‘Lesley’? ‘Rob’? It was neither; number withheld, probably from a switchboard, the nick?
“DI Palmer,” he answered in his official voice.
“Hello Traffic Warden, how are you today?”
Vinnie instantly recognised Moxley’s voice. The first thought he had was to keep the maniac talking, be friendly with him, give the cell-siting bods long enough to locate which mast his phone was pinging off, assuming it was a mobile of course. Though he doubted Moxley was dumb enough to use a phone box or other fixed landline. That would be too easy.
“I’m fine, Daniel,” Vinnie started, using his first name on purpose. “I didn’t really expect to hear from you again.”
“Well, I kind of like you Mr Traffic Warden.”
“Why do you call me that? I thought you said you liked me?”
“What’s wrong with traffic wardens, beneath you are they?”
“No, I didn’t meant that, just guessing you were calling me that for a negative reason,” Vinnie said, trying not to sound too desperate at his attempts to keep the conversation going, adding, “Especially, when you said you liked me, though I’m not sure why.”
“Fair point, but I can’t recognise your position. I’m more important than you and it has to stay that way, though I do like you.”
Vinnie wasn’t sure he understood, but played along, “Okay then, Traffic Warden it is, but why do you like me? After all, I’m trying to catch you.”
“You seem honest, and that’s a refreshing change compared to the majority of public officials I’ve come across. And also, because you treated Jimmy fairly.”
Damn, Vinnie thought, in all the surprise of receiving the call he had forgotten about Jimmy. “How is Jimmy?”
“Don’t you worry about him; I intend to look after him. Having someone to love who you can trust means a lot to me.”
Vinnie shuddered, thinking of poor Jimmy’s predicament. But if Moxley’s feelings for him were as genuine as he sounded, at least that should keep him alive until they could free him.
“That’s another reason I pity you,” Moxley said, his tone darkening.
Vinnie was puzzled. “I thought you liked me, not pitied me?”
“Both,” Moxley answered. “Look, I know what you are trying to do here, so I’ll have to be quick. It’s because I like you and pity you, that I’ve done you a favour.”
“What?”
“It’s in your garage. You can thank me when I speak to you next.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-four
Vinnie’s first thought was how the hell Moxley knew where he lived? Must have followed him home. He shuddered at the thought. He fired up the Volvo and turned for home, which wasn’t far away. He drove towards a T junction and was held up behind a lorry, unable to get past it. He took the moment to ring Delany and quickly fill him in. Delany said he would have the cell-siting checked and would see him at his home. He ended the call as the traffic started moving again. At the junction, he turned right on to a wider road and was able to pass the lorry and put his foot down. Not far to go.
What the hell did Moxley mean? ‘I’ve done you a favour’, and ‘it’s in your garage’. Only one of those statements would be actually true. Then it hit him – George Piper. It looked as if Moxley had had more luck locating Piper than they had. This didn’t bode well, not for Piper.
He screeched to a halt outside his house, a feeling of violation running through him as he thought of Moxley having been there. He stopped on the drive and did a 360 degree turn. It was a quiet residential street and
he couldn’t see anyone about, but it wouldn’t surprise him if the bastard was here somewhere.
Turning back to his single-car garage he could see that the up-and-over door’s lock had been forced. In the centre, where the key went in, was now a wide hole. He grabbed the handle and turned the lock to its side. He heard the mechanism scratching behind the door. Mixture of relief and trepidation surged through him. Vinnie opened the door a little and then used both hands to get under its lower edge and yank it fully open in one swift movement.
Confusion followed terror that cascaded through him as he saw Lesley’s Mini parked in the garage, front end first. It appeared empty. He checked. It was, and the doors were locked. He rushed to the garage’s inner door that led into the kitchen; also locked. Then he heard something. He stopped and strained his hearing. He heard it again, clearer, a muffled bump, coming from the back of the car. He ran to the boot and tried the handle; locked. He knocked on it and shouted who he was. The bump recurred with a stifled squeal. He raced to his tool box in the corner and grabbed the longest flathead screwdriver he had. Seconds later he’d sprung the lock and the boot flew open to reveal a trussed and gagged Lesley. Wriggling and squealing, but very much alive. Relief replaced terror as he struggled to undo the rope ties around her wrists and ankles. He’d no idea how long she’d been there but her brow was damp with sweat and the inside of the boot lid was wet with her condensed breath. She could have been there all night. No wonder she hadn’t come home. The thought made him tremble.
All the recent feelings of anxiety and bitterness towards her went flying out of his mind, replaced with concern and that loving feeling which, he hoped had always been there, albeit, buried of late.
All these emotions raced through him as he undid the last of the ties. He reached for the gaffer tape across her mouth, but Lesley beat him to it. She yelped as she tore it from her skin. He saw her mouth reddening immediately. She was frantically trying to talk, as she gulped in mouthfuls of fresh air.
“Give yourself a minute, love. Don’t try to speak, let’s get you out of this damn car for starters.”
She nodded slightly, as she put her arm around him and he helped her out. Perversely, it felt good and tender as she gripped him. He almost felt guilty at registering the fleeting thought; but it had been a long time since they’d had any physical contact whatsoever.
Out of the car, Lesley stood and caught her breath some more before speaking.
“It was some deranged monster wearing a human wig,” she said, before retching. Having somehow managed not to be actually sick, she continued. “Quickly, you’ve got to get to Rob; he made me tell him his name. Said he was going to kill him.”
“Kill Rob, but why?”
“Never mind that, just do it,” she said, her voice rising.
“How long have you been here?”
“All night, please it might already be too late,” she said.
She started crying and he wasn’t sure why, or why now. Then he saw something written across the front of her white jumper, in black marker pen. It was small, which was why he’d only just seen it. He leaned closer to read it. Lesley seemed to realise what he was doing and stepped away from him.
“Never mind that, check on Rob, please Vinnie, hurry.”
Vinnie ignored her and stepped closer, the rear of the car stopped Lesley going back any further. She then put her arm up to cover the words; he pulled it away and read what was written in capitals. ‘SOILED BY ROB’.
A car screeched to a halt behind them as Vinnie tried to take in what it all meant. He turned to see Harry Delany jump from a car, which in any other circumstance would have looked comical, as he snared one of his feet in the driver’s seat belt, but somehow managed to regain his balance. A second vehicle skidded to a halt behind Harry’s, blue lights flashing on it. Two uniforms got out.
It was sinking in. Those loving feelings which rushed through him only moments ago were replaced with shock and anger. The betrayal hit him, from both sides. He turned back to face Lesley who’d brought her arm up again to cover the writing.
Harry and the other cops were approaching and he knew now was not the time. He had to stay professional, and he’d have to dig very deep to do so.
Taking a deep breath, he scowled at his wife and turned to face Harry. He quickly briefed him and, thankfully, Harry took control. He told the uniforms that this was now a crime scene and they were to preserve it until CSI got there. He also told them to take Mrs Palmer inside and look after her.
“Sorry, Lesley, but thank God you’re okay,” Harry said.
Vinnie saw Lesley nod at Harry before turning her gaze to him; he could see the entreaty in her eyes.
“We need to check on Rob, Moxley’s made threats,” Vinnie said, feeling disgust at having to say his DC’s name.
“Why Rob?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Vinnie said, noting what now looked like humiliation on Lesley’s face.
“I tried to raise him on the radio on my way here, no reply. His phone’s turned off, too,” Delany said.
Vinnie wasn’t surprised. If he was at some crucial stage of interviewing Johnson, it made sense. He also knew Rob would be okay as he was at the safe house. Standard operating procedure when approaching a safe house or covert ops address were the same. Carry out several laps of a nearby block to ensure you are not being followed, then park up and walk a circular route to the address. Even if Moxley had been following Rob, he’d have lost him or seen him.
On the back of this thought, he got on to the net and asked that someone check around Rochdale nick and the nearby streets for Moxley. Although they didn’t know what car he now had, he should still be easy to spot. Every cop in GMP now knew what he looked like.
After he had finished speaking Harry asked him for the address of the safe house.
“It’ll be easier if you follow me, Harry.”
Delany started to argue that he should stay here with his wife but that was the last place he wanted to be.
“We are the only ones who can go to the safe-house, Harry, and if you follow me it’ll be easier to check if we are being followed, though I’m sure even that psycho is not that dumb.” Vinnie again scanned all around the area.
Harry reluctantly agreed and as he waked back towards his car, Vinnie turned to face his wife, “Is it true?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, before the tears started.
Vinnie turned and went to his car.
Chapter Twenty-five
Delany’s motor was a newish Merc, which had Bluetooth fitted. He told Vinnie he would follow him while trying to track Rob down via the incident room. It took thirty minutes to reach the area of the flat and, as sure as he could be that the flat was secure, he was desperate to drive straight to it like they had when they first took Johnson there. He fought the urge, conscious that this could still be an elaborate ploy by Moxley to find the flat and therefore Johnson.
After a couple of laps of the estate, Vinnie parked the Volvo and Delany pulled his Merc up behind him. As they walked into the estate, Delany spoke.
“I’ve left messages everywhere including the incident room. No sign of Rob. I’ve also had the cell-siting team on and your call came from an unregistered pay-as-you-go mobile from the centre of Manchester.”
“Probably Jimmy’s phone,” Vinnie said, as he sighed in relief. At least Moxley hadn’t been watching them back at his house.
“Trouble is,” Delany continued, “the mast it pinged off is right in the city centre, off Deansgate. There’ll be millions of shoppers all over. I’ve asked that every spare cop get their arse into the area and I’ve sent a team to the CCTV viewing site.”
“Either way, it’ll be like trying to find a dropped tenner.”
Vinnie had a last look around as they approached the ground floor flat. There was no one about. He knocked on the door as he shouted who he was. Two minutes later Johnson unlocked and opened the front door, “Christ, not you as well? And who’s this wi
th you?”
“Watch your mouth, Johnson,” Vinnie said. He pushed past him into the hall. “This is my boss so show some respect.”
“Bloody hell, how many more know about this address?”
“None, and I told you to watch your mouth, I’m not in the mood. Where’s Rob, DC Hill?”
“Left about half an hour ago. Why, don’t you know where your own staff are?”
Vinnie asked Delany if he’d check outside and around the back, to be on the safe side, and he agreed and left. Vinnie waited until the front door was closed again before turning back to face Johnson.
“I’m really not in the mood to display my normal well-balanced demeanour. Especially, to a turd like you.” He grabbed Johnson by the throat with his right hand and squeezed as he pushed him up against the hall wall. “Understand?”
Johnson nodded; the look of arrogance had been replaced by one of fear. Vinnie let go and continued, “Where did he say he was going?”
“Back to the office,” Johnson said. “Is something wrong?” His look of fear now replaced with self-concern.
“Stop worrying about yourself, you’ll be okay as long as you stay put and follow our instructions. Now, what’s the name of the bent cop you got Piper’s details from, or is that all bollocks?”
“Look, I’ve told Rob everything, it’d be quicker if you ask him,” Johnson said.
Vinnie was about to force the issue, when Delany reappeared at the front door, knocking frantically. Vinnie let him in.
“The incident room’s been on. Rob came rushing in there about ten minutes ago, apparently looking for you. He was told to stay put while we were contacted.”
“See, I told you I’d told him,” Johnson interrupted.
Ignoring him, Vinnie asked, “So he’s still there?
“Yeah, the duty DS told him to wait in my office while he rang me.”
The Badge & the Pen Thrillers Page 10