Dead By Design

by James D Mortain

  ‘Why take your dead brother’s identity if you were going to lead this kind of lifestyle?’ Gold asked, ‘when sooner or later, you could end up in a place like this.’

  Babbage grinned. ‘But I’ve got you to thank for getting me out, haven’t I, Detective Gold.’

  Gold squirmed in the slippery seat and leaned in closer to Babbage. ‘I did not destroy those exhibits and I think you know that.’

  Babbage shrugged and smiled with a pout. ‘Either way.’

  The door opened and Jackson walked in with a man wearing a navy blue, pin-striped suit and holding a battered, black leather brief case.

  ‘I do hope you two have been playing nicely,’ Jackson said and gestured with his head for Gold to stand up.

  ‘This is your barrister, Mr Samson,’ Jackson said to Babbage. ‘Play your cards right and you could be out of here in no time.’

  Jackson and Gold waited outside in the hallway as the brief spoke privately with Babbage.

  ‘Why are you being so nice to Babbage?’ Gold asked Jackson.

  Jackson shrugged. ‘Our case is screwed without that evidence,’ he said. ‘For every day that Babbage festers in that cell, we, the force, could be sued for unlawful detention.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Gold said.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Jackson snapped.

  Gold glared at him and shook her head. ‘You know that I didn’t destroy those exhibits.’

  Jackson peered at Gold with his uncompromising beady eyes and leaned over the top of her.

  ‘I don’t think you are in any position to make statements like that, missy. Let’s wait and see what Professional Standards makes of it all, shall we?’ Jackson turned away and stormed back outside.

  Chapter 32

  Dog handler, PC Greenwood and his excitable cocker spaniel, Brice, arrived at the scene before the Support Group. Deans greeted them and led the way through to the rear garden.

  ‘So what do you need us to do?’ PC Greenwood asked. Deans had not told Comms anything about the purpose for a dog unit.

  ‘I want Brice to have a free range of the property,’ Deans said. ‘Use the time for some confined training, tracking or whatever you want to do.’

  ‘Okay,’ Greenwood answered hesitantly. He had a slightly puzzled expression. Most times, the dog units did not have such a luxury. ‘Anything I need to know – places or rooms to avoid?’

  Deans shrugged, ‘Why not start on the ground level, the rest of us will stay out of your way in the kitchen. Just one thing, though,’ Deans said touching Greenwood’s arm. ‘If you come across anything… unusual, would you let me know right away?’

  ‘Sure,’ Greenwood said and started preparing his dog for release.

  Deans returned to the kitchen and, ushering Denise away from the earshot of Savage and Parsons, asked her, ‘So now what?’

  ‘We’ll see what little Brice can find,’ she said with a tentative smile. ‘I just hope the entity doesn’t harm him.’

  ‘What?’ Deans said. ‘What sort of harm?’

  Denise raised an eyelid. ‘Well, it’s already killed two people hasn’t it?’

  ‘Three,’ Deans replied. ‘It’s killed three people.’

  Ten minutes went by and Savage was becoming increasingly restless in the kitchen, as he could not sit still for more than thirty seconds before having to pace to the window and back.

  Deans could still smell damp masonry in the air. He turned to Denise. ‘Do you get anything from here?’

  Her eyes lit up. ‘It’s here,’ she said, just as a sudden jolt shook Deans to the soles of his feet. ‘He knows what we are up to,’ Denise said. ‘Andy, this is stupid. We have put ourselves in danger.’

  Right at that moment, they all heard a loud yelp from outside in the garden.

  ‘Brice,’ Deans shouted and ran out of the kitchen towards the rear garden.

  He saw PC Greenwood kneeling on the grass with Brice across his lap.

  ‘What happened?’ Deans called out, running up to them.

  ‘I think he stepped on something over there.’ Greenwood pointed towards the decking. ‘It must be a splinter in his pads, but I can’t find anything.’

  ‘Will Brice be okay?’ Deans asked.

  ‘Should be,’ Greenwood said, standing Brice back onto his feet. Brice was holding his front left paw in the air. ‘Strange thing is,’ Greenwood said, ‘he didn’t want to go anywhere near that decking, kept cowering away each time he got close.’

  ‘Is that normal?’ Deans asked. ‘I mean…’

  ‘No. Brice is one the most experienced dogs we have. He’s not usually a sissy.’

  Denise joined them outside.

  ‘Did you say it was over there?’ she asked Greenwood, who confirmed. ‘It’s there then,’ she said to Deans. ‘The body will be somewhere over there.’

  ‘Body?’ Greenwood queried. ‘What body?’

  ‘Will you show me what Brice did, please?’ Denise asked Greenwood.

  ‘I can try,’ Greenwood said, ‘but he’s obviously picked up some kind of injury.’

  Greenwood walked towards the decked area and crouched down encouraging Brice to join him, but his dog refused and limped off in the other direction.

  ‘I’m sorry, Deano,’ Greenwood said scooping Brice up from the floor with one arm, ‘but that looks like the end of our training session.’

  Deans shook Greenwood’s hand and rubbed the top of Brice’s head. ‘I hope the little fella is going to be alright.’

  ‘I’ll take a proper look back at the kennels. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.’

  ‘You were,’ Deans said. ‘Believe me, you were.’

  Sergeant Niamh Freeland and her team of six PCs were on scene before lunchtime. Savage was in luck; they were on a spare shift, kicking their heels, looking for a training opportunity and that was how he Savage had sold the gig.

  Interest in the police activity outside, however, was growing – further emphasised by the large Support Group meat-waggon blocking half of the cobbled pavement in front of the terrace. Donald Ellis, the local rag hack, had been hovering in the street for the last hour. He had an uncanny knack of being in the right place at the right time. Deans had previously suspected someone on the inside was feeding him the tip-off – possibly someone in the station, or even a call operative in Comms. Either way, Ellis could be a real pain in the nuts. Parsons said he had seen him arrive and run off a burst of snaps of the police vehicles – more than likely unaware of why they were there. If only he knew!

  Sergeant Freeland was with Savage, Deans and Denise Moon in the bedroom as her team broke up lumps of paving and concrete in the back garden. Deans was delighted to hear that she and her husband were thinking of moving house because of the supernatural problems they had been experiencing in their home. A call on Sergeant Freeland’s radio piqued everyone’s interest; the team had broken through to soil and discovered something they wanted to show.

  They all stood in a confined circle looking down at the dustbin-lid sized hole in the concrete.

  One of the officers handed Savage a fist full of mud. Savage stared down at his hand and then looked back at the officer with a curled lip.

  ‘Look at it,’ the officer said.

  Savage prodded a finger into the ball of sludge and struck something hard in the middle. He routed another digit inside and pulled out a coin. He looked at the officer who gestured for Savage to take a closer inspection. Savage grabbed a rag from one the others and rubbed the coin. He flipped it back and forth and then peered at Deans, a look of amazement on his face.

  ‘It’s a George the Fifth gold Sovereign,’ Savage said and handed the coin to Deans. ‘Any more?’ he asked the officers.

  One of the team stepped to one side and showed a mound of soil with many more coins easily visible amongst the dirt.

  Denise looked at Deans, wide-eyed. ‘These would be worth a small fortune these days,’ she said.

  ‘Keep digging, guys,’ Deans said. ‘And make sure you shout
when you come across bone.’

  Savage, Deans and Denise went back into the house.

  Savage was pacing the kitchen, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

  ‘So, let me get this straight in my head,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a gangster ghost, a pot of money, and an old sod in a nursing home who knows something about all of it?’

  ‘And three dead bodies,’ Deans said.

  ‘So far,’ Denise butted-in.

  Savage dragged a kitchen stool towards him and flopped down onto the seat. He looked at Deans and shook his head. ‘Shit magnet.’

  Deans smiled for the first time in days. ‘Yep. Certainly looks that way.’

  ‘Are you sure about those coins?’ Savage asked Denise. ‘I mean the value? Shit – this could be a media circus a few hours from now.’

  ‘As sure as I can be,’ Denise replied. ‘Take a look.’ She handed Savage her mobile phone with information about gold sovereigns on the screen.

  Savage scrolled through the pages and, for moment, nobody spoke.

  Savage looked up at Deans. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I need you to figure out what we are to do with George Fenwick, and I’m going to head back to the office, before the headless fucking horseman stampedes through this kitchen.’

  Deans chuckled. ‘I’ll start with Samantha. See if I can encourage her some more.’

  ‘Good,’ Savage said moving to the window. ‘I’ll leave Support Group here to do their thing.’ He puffed air into his cheeks. ‘Let’s hope they don’t dig anyone up. That would just about top off my day.’

  He turned back to Deans. ‘Shit magnet.’

  Chapter 33

  Deans and Denise were back outside Samantha’s flat and following repeated attempts to bring her to the door, Deans was growing increasingly concerned for her wellbeing.

  ‘I’m going to give her one last chance and then we’ll have to bust the door,’ he said to Denise.

  ‘How can you do that?’

  ‘We’ll need a door opening team for this one; too many locks.’

  Deans faced Denise. ‘I know she’s inside… and so is Christ knows how much heroin?’

  Denise took a step backwards. ‘Well, come on.’ She waved her hands. ‘Do whatever you do.’

  Deans knelt down and lifted the metal flap to the post box. ‘Samantha. I know you are in there. Just give me a noise to show you can hear me…’ He turned an ear to the small slot in the door. He waited a moment and then pulled a face to Denise.

  He dug his phone from his pocket and called Savage.

  ‘Mick, I’m at the Travis flats. I need the big red key.’

  ‘What for,’ Savage asked.

  ‘I think Samantha’s topped herself.’

  ‘Oh Shit! Are you sure?’

  ‘I can’t get a response at the door and all the sliding bolts are across. She’s definitely inside.’

  ‘Deano… you really don’t need this… but the boss wants you to see you urgently.’

  ‘I can’t leave, Mick.’

  ‘Alright, alright, I’ll speak to the uniform team and get someone up to you with the door ram. You are absolutely certain she’s inside?’

  ‘Yep. Hundred percent.’

  ‘Fine,’ Savage huffed. ‘I’ll get a lift up with them. See you shortly.’

  They waited no more than ten minutes before a PC from the day shift approached them cradling the bright red door opener in his arms. He lowered the weighty lump of metal onto the floor with a reverberating clang. Sweat dripped from his face and he needed a few seconds before he could speak.

  ‘The… the others… are… are just coming,’ he said.

  Deans looked along the hallway and saw Savage flanked by two other officers, carrying protective headgear.

  ‘Right, is this it?’ Savage asked Deans in a hurry.

  ‘This is the flat. The bolts are across at the top, middle and bottom. It won’t be easy,’ Deans said.

  ‘We’ll keep going until the frame gives in,’ one of the PCs said. ‘Have you given the appropriate warnings?’

  ‘Yep,’ Deans said. ‘There are no pets and if you look through the letterbox, you can see a light on in the living room.’

  ‘Just do it,’ Savage said. ‘I need to get Deano away from here as soon as.’

  Deans’ brows met and he stared at Savage.

  ‘Come on,’ Savage said. ‘Hurry up.’

  The PCs prepared themselves and lined up the flat head of the ram against the main lock of the door. The PC at the front turned to Savage, who nodded permission for them to damage the door.

  ‘This is the police, we are forcing entry through this door, please step away,’ the lead PC shouted through the letterbox as other residents hovered in their doorways muttering about the “Fucking pigs”.

  The doorframe gave way after the sixth whack of the ram. Deans was first through and went directly into the living room. Samantha was slumped in her chair; an arm draped over the side, her eyes closed and her lips a grey pastel shade. Deans quickly scanned the floor beneath her arm, and he saw the needle.

  ‘It’s an OD,’ he shouted. ‘Someone get an ambulance.’

  He pressed his fingers against her neck and felt for a pulse, there was nothing. ‘Shit!’

  ‘I’m a first responder,’ one of the other PCs said coming alongside Deans and instantly went to work on resuscitating Samantha.

  Deans stepped back. His mouth wide open. ‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘Please, not another?’

  The PC turned to Deans and shook her head.

  Deans covered his face with his hands and crouched down to the floor.

  ‘We need to leave uniform to sort this out, Deano,’ Savage said. ‘We have to go.’

  Deans slowly stood up and gripped the sides of his head. Did I push her too far?

  Savage grabbed Deans’ arm and encouraged him away. ‘You stay here,’ Savage said to the PC. ‘Wait for the medics and update us.’

  The PC agreed and Savage, Deans and Denise headed back to the station in Deans’ car.

  On the return journey, Savage updated them that the Support Group had excavated all the concrete and found considerably more gold sovereigns, and what Nate Parsons and the Crime Scene Manager suggested to be the skeletal remains of an adult human, minus the skull.

  Deans could tell something was amiss, even though Savage wasn’t letting on, so he told Denise to wait for him in town while he returned to the nick.

  The DI sipped from a mug and gestured for Deans to take a seat. He kept a watchful eye on Deans and placed his drink down gently onto the desk. He stared intently, unnervingly for a long moment.

  Deans knew what he was doing – killing time, giving himself thinking space, or an opportunity to sound the words in his head before they came out of his mouth.

  ‘Boss?’ Deans said standing back up to his feet.

  The DI looked away slightly, only momentarily, but enough. Deans’ body sagged, and he dropped to the seat.

  The DI faced him again.

  ‘Andy,’ he said drawing breath, ‘I need you to go to Bristol. We…’ he hesitated. ‘…we’ve had word from Devon.’ His eyes flickered and he looked downwards. He shielded his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at Deans. ‘They…’ he stopped and coughed into his fist several times before regaining his composure. ‘… They have located an item of jewellery.’ The DI leaned over his desk and picked up a sheet of paper.

  He held it out towards Deans who looked at the page quivering gently in the DI’s grasp.

  Deans’ arms were like stiff metal bars by his side and no matter how much he needed to see and hear the information, his body simply would not allow it.

  The DI waited a moment and then spoke. ‘These are the details I took over the phone.’

  Deans peered at the paper but he could not read the words through his misted eyes.

  ‘Okay,’ the DI muttered and summarised the information for Deans’ benefit. ‘An off-duty officer in Devon located the item i
n a pawn shop, North of Torworthy, in a small harbour town. DI Thornton has been fully briefed and DC Gold and DC Ranford are already on their way to Bristol with the exhibit.’ The DI bunched his lips together. ‘Andy, it’s exactly as you described on the MISPER report: a black coral chain and a black stone pendant in the shape of an elephant.’

  The DI shook his head and pinched his top lip between his teeth.

  ‘It’s the same size… same everything. And we need you to formally identify it.’

  Deans’ vision blurred. There was one piece of jewellery unique to Maria – a black moon stone elephant on a long black coral linkage, which he had bought in the Caribbean. Maria was never without it. The woman in the market who sold him the pendant said it would bring Maria abundant luck, and what they craved most – fertility.

  ‘There’s a crisis meeting at five with the Op Engage team,’ the DI said and leaned forward, touching Deans’ arm. ‘I want you to be there too.’ He offered Deans a painful smile.

  Deans blinked a slow wet puddle and nodded.

  The DI reached forward with a tissue and gestured for Deans to wipe his face. ‘I don’t want you to drive over,’ the DI said. ‘I’ll ask one of the team to take you.’

  Deans shook his head. ‘No… I want to be alone.’

  ‘Okay,’ the DI said. ‘In that case I’ll arrange a rail warrant from admin. I don’t want you anywhere near a car.’

  Deans accepted and gulped away his rising emotion.

  The DI stood up and hugged Deans with a tight embrace.

  ‘You take all the time you need, that’s not an issue. But keep me updated and let me know if there is anything I can do.’

  Chapter 34

  Bath to Bristol by train would take no more than fifteen minutes, but it might as well be eternity on this day. Deans found a front-facing seat next to the window and placed his go-bag on the floor beside him. He was wearing sunglasses even though it was practically dark outside. He rested his forehead against the cool misted window, shut his eyes and pictured Maria.

  Several solitary minutes passed by. The clattering pane against his skin was almost therapeutic, but soon he began to sense that somebody was watching him.