by Bill Kitson
Fleming’s disappointment was obvious, but she soon recovered. ‘Very well, ma’am, I accept that, but if you’re not prepared to ask Mike, what about requesting assistance from one of our neighbouring forces?’
‘I’ve already considered that approach, in the light of the latest murders I sent out requests this morning but I’m not too hopeful. I’ve already had one chief constable on the phone to tell me that he’d made a similar request which was turned down and was on the point of asking me to lend him someone. It’s only at times like this when there’s a sudden escalation in the crime rate, that the true effects of the cutbacks and the reduction in personnel become painfully obvious. I regret to have to say this, because the potential effect on morale concerns me deeply, but I believe it’s a situation we will all have to learn to live with, like it or not.’
Local radio carried the report of the finding of the bodies first, but Kovac never listened to those stations. The severity of the crimes was such that it was considered important enough to make national radio. The news item carried a description of the rural location where the bodies had been found, a brief mention of the mysterious 999 call and stated that local police were puzzled as to how the victims got to the scene. It was only when the reporter mentioned the name of the village of Kirk Bolton that Kovac realized the dead men were his two missing couriers.
There could be no mistake. Two of his employees were missing; had been absent for almost a week. Now two men had been found dead in the same area in what police were describing as suspicious circumstances. Kovac was only too well aware what that phrase meant. Putting two and two together, he knew that this had to be an act of reprisal. It seemed as if the opposition had declared war, in which case it was time they were made to understand that he was prepared to go to any lengths to protect his empire. He had fought hard to get to the position he was in; he wasn’t prepared to relinquish it without a struggle. And if that meant others getting hurt, so be it. He picked up the phone and called Stanley.
‘Have you been listening to the news on the radio?’
‘No, I’ve been busy.’
‘Switch on a news bulletin. Our men have turned up – dead. When we intercept that shipment of the Soldiers, I think we will have to demonstrate what a serious mistake they’ve made, and show them that every escalation will be matched by our retaliation.’
The trauma the couple had shared in the picnic area might have ended their relationship before it began, but instead it had driven them together. That night had been a turning point, in more ways than one. When she got into his car at the start of the evening, she couldn’t have foreseen the dramatic events that would have followed, could never have guessed she would end the night at his flat, in his arms, in his bed.
The morning had brought some awkwardness, until he’d asked her, gently, if she’d any regrets. She’d stretched, luxuriously, and as she did, her toes brushed against his leg. It might have been accidental. ‘No regrets,’ she told him firmly, then whispered, ‘no regrets at all.’
After a leisurely breakfast, which was so late it was almost lunch, he’d begun work on his laptop. He hadn’t mentioned her leaving, indeed he chatted intermittently as he worked, promising to have it all finished by late afternoon. After watching him for a while, at his suggestion she wandered away on an inspection tour. The flat was large with four bedrooms, and ample space for a family. For one man alone, it was huge. Except that he was no longer alone, was he? As she thought it, she realized that her mind was already made up. If he asked her, she would move in with him. The decision surprised her, but certainly didn’t shock her.
She was leaning on the door of the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand, when he she felt his arms slide around her waist and up inside her jumper. She leaned back as his hands cupped her breasts, feeling his renewed arousal.
‘I can’t concentrate on my work so I was going to suggest a late lunch,’ he said. ‘But I think I’d prefer to wait until dinner. It isn’t food I need. I want you.’
She put the mug down, and led him towards the bedroom. By the time he had closed the bedroom door, she was already under the duvet; her clothes lying discarded on the floor. He removed his shirt and was about to join her when there was a loud hammering on the front door.
‘Who on earth is that?’ she asked, half fearful that her vengeful husband had found her. Then she realized she didn’t care if he had. Last night had signalled the end of her married life, and hopefully the start of a new chapter.
He hurried to the flat door. Two women, flanked by two uniformed police officers, were standing outside holding warrant cards. One woman spoke, asked him to confirm his identity, then introduced herself. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Mironova, Helmsdale CID. This is my colleague DC Andrews. May we come inside?’
He nodded and stepped aside ushering them and one officer into the lounge. The second uniformed man remained on the doorstep.
‘You called the emergency services to report two bodies you’d found at the picnic site near Kirk Bolton. How did you know they were there?’
He gasped. ‘How did you find out I made the call?’
‘CCTV picked up your registration number. Now, why were you at the picnic site, and how did you know about the bodies?’
‘I ... I found them. I drove in to the car park and saw them. Well, I saw one to begin with. I ... I got out of my car to see if he was injured. He wasn’t breathing. That was when I saw the second body.’
‘Why did you go there?’
‘I ... er ... I wanted to ... that is, I needed to relieve myself.’ He knew it sounded false.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t believe you. There are public toilets at the far side of the car park. You would have no cause to go anywhere near the picnic tables. So, I’ll ask you once again, what were you doing at the picnic site?’
He stared at the women, unsure what to say.
The answer came from behind them. ‘He went there with me. He wanted to go there so we could make love.’
The detectives turned at the sound of the woman’s voice. The fact that she was wearing nothing but a man’s shirt didn’t escape either of them.
‘He didn’t want to tell you, for the same reason he didn’t identify himself when he made that call. He wanted to protect me, because he knew if our names became public I’d be upset by the scandal and publicity – as would my husband. However, I no longer care what either the public or my husband think, so there’s no reason to hide the truth.’
‘Thank you.’ Mironova smiled as she looked back at the man who now looked completely nonplussed.
Andrews began to take her details, noted her name and asked, ‘And your address please?’
The woman looked across the room at the man who had become her lover, saw the questioning look on his face, the hope in his eyes and then the smile beginning to dawn. That exchange of glances was all it needed to confirm that she had made the right choice. ‘My address is here,’ she replied. ‘As of now, this is my home.’
‘I ought to give you a lecture about wasting police time,’ Mironova told them severely. ‘But somehow in circumstances such as these I don’t have the heart. I will need you to make an official statement of what you’ve just told us, but we’ll do our best to ensure it is confidential and try to keep your names out of the press.’ As an afterthought, she smiled and added, ‘And I hope you’ll be very happy together.’
Chapter nine
Viv Pearce was looking for Clara and found her in the kitchen. ‘Clara, I’ve just been speaking to Jack Binns. One of his officers has come back from rest days and seen that notice on the board about the shoplifters at Good Buys. He’s identified one of the women. He says she’s a prolific thief, not just shoplifting, but receiving as well.’
‘Some good news at last. Check her out, please, and let’s see if we can get a warrant arranged. You and Lisa can have the pleasure. Arrange to take some uniforms with you. Superintendent Fleming’s coming here for a meeting but I’m sure you’ll man
age without me.’
The exterior of the house was far from prepossessing. Although the paintwork at the windows and front door looked reasonably clean. Lisa guessed this owed more to the attentions of the council than their tenants. The curtains at the windows looked as if they hadn’t been washed since they were new; and that had been a long time ago. The garden could best be described as unkempt, bordering on wilderness. Amidst this display of tawdry living was one sign of mild prosperity she found surprising. On the hard-standing alongside the house was a newish mobile home. By contrast, it was in impeccable condition.
Pearce instructed the two uniformed men supplied by Jack Binns to make their way round the side of the house towards the back, while he and Lisa remained at the front. He hammered on the door, waited a moment and tried again. Although no one answered, it had clearly provoked a response, for he and Lisa heard the sound of a door slamming at the back, followed by a shout.
The officers returned, accompanied with great reluctance, by a man whose presence was not of his own volition. The man the officers were grasping by the scruff of his neck was in his early twenties. He was making strenuous efforts to break free, but his attempts to escape were hampered considerably by his newly acquired fashion accessory; a pair of handcuffs.
‘This bloke scarpered out of the back,’ the officer said, ‘but we managed to collar him.’
At that point the front door opened a few inches to reveal a woman whose age could have been anywhere between forty and sixty. Lisa gestured to the handcuffed man. ‘Is this yours?’
‘That’s my son,’ the woman snapped. ‘He’s done nowt wrong.’
‘Of course not. They never have. That’s why they run away at the sight of police officers. Does it have a name?’
‘Newsome,’ the woman told her reluctantly. ‘Dwayne Newsome.’
‘Good,’ Lisa smiled. ‘See; we’re making progress already. So you must be Eileen Newsome, right?’
The woman nodded, as if wary that it might have been a trick question.
‘OK, Eileen, I want to know something, and I think you might be the one to help me. It’s all a bit puzzling to be honest. We came here today to talk to you and we have a search warrant for these premises. But given that you told me a minute ago that Dwayne hasn’t done anything wrong, why do you think he tried to leg it out of the back as soon as we knocked on your door? Of course it could be that he’s just naturally shy, but somehow I don’t think so. Or might the reason be that he’s been up to something he doesn’t want you to know about. What do you think he’s been doing?’
Lisa walked over to Dwayne. She leaned forward, and as she did caught a whiff of something familiar on his breath. ‘What have you been smoking, Dwayne? That’s not nicotine I can smell, is it?’
She spoke to the uniformed men. ‘Caution and search him, will you?’
One of the officers pulled a small plastic bag from the youth’s jeans pocket. He handed it to Lisa, who sniffed cautiously. ‘Ah yes, I thought so.’
‘It’s only cannabis,’ Eileen blurted out. ‘Surely you’re not going to do him for a bit of weed.’
‘Shut the fuck up, Ma!’ Dwayne shouted, the first time he had spoken.
‘Tut, tut, that’s not a very nice way to talk to your mother, Dwayne.’ As Lisa was speaking, the group stepped forward to enter the property and Pearce handed the search warrant to Eileen Newsome.
‘What’s all this about,’ Eileen demanded.
‘Your visit to Good Buys supermarket, the one where you left without paying for over a hundred pounds worth of shopping. The image on the CCTV footage is unmistakeably you.’ Lisa looked at Eileen Newsome, whose face registered shock.
‘Oh dear, I don’t think this is proving to be the Newsome family’s luckiest day. Where’s your husband, Mrs Newsome? Is he inside?’
‘No, he’s been out for nearly two years now.’
Lisa frowned sternly at the officers, who were struggling not to laugh. ‘No, Mrs Newsome. I meant is he inside the house?’
‘He’s not here. He’s taken the dog for a walk.’
‘That’s unfortunate. And, I do hope you don’t have any other relatives here, because if you did we’d risk running short of handcuffs. I’m also sorry to have to tell you, but there’s another problem. When you get to the police station, we’ll have to separate you and your son. We haven’t got the extension with the family rooms finished yet.’
She gestured to the uniformed man waiting with handcuffs. ‘Now, caution Mrs Newsome too, charge her with theft and take them both inside, then we can get to work.’
Mother and son were settled uncomfortably in the lounge, where one of the officers was left watching them.
Lisa glanced round at the room before returning her gaze to Eileen. ‘Look on the bright side, it’ll probably be a whole lot tidier after we’ve finished.’
An exhaustive search yielded nothing more than a tobacco tin on the coffee table containing Dwayne’s smoking requisites. When they entered the roof void however, they found a treasure trove of stolen items that had been stashed among the joists. Amongst these were several recognisable from the recent spate of burglaries outstanding on the crime sheets. Alongside the stolen property was a quantity of clothing and electrical goods all still packaged and labelled.
‘I think we have enough,’ Pearce commented. ‘Let’s ferry these two back to the station. Jack’s men can continue bagging the property; and if the husband turns up tell him we’d like to speak to him.’
Clara and Jackie Fleming were delighted with the results and supervised the handing over of the prisoners to Jack Binns for him to make out the charge sheets.
‘Eileen Newsome, shoplifting from Good Buys supermarket, and receiving stolen goods,’ Lisa told him. ‘That’s nice and brief, but make the most of it, because when you get to Dwayne’s turn, you could finish up with writer’s cramp.’
After mother and son were led away to the cells, Binns asked the superintendent if he could have a quiet word. She led him to one end of the area. ‘Is there a problem, Jack?’
‘The Coroner has released Geoff Riley’s body at last and it’s the funeral in two days. I had a word with my superintendent, and he’s given me the OK to attend, providing I can organize cover for the station here. I would like to go, if possible. Geoff and I go back a long way and I know Maureen, his wife, will expect me to be there. Uniform branch will be turning out in force, so it wouldn’t be fair to ask one of them to forego the right to pay their last respects. I wonder if you could organize someone to stand-in for me. I’ll take the day out of my leave entitlement if necessary.’
‘You’ll do no such thing, Jack. Of course you have to attend the funeral. I’ll make sure Clara and her team deputize for you. They’ll cope. How is Maureen, do you know? I haven’t had chance to go see her since it happened. She was put on compassionate leave immediately.’
‘I haven’t spoken to her either, but I saw her brother in town yesterday. From what I could gather, Maureen’s distraught, which is understandable but she can’t give way to it too much for fear of upsetting the boy.’
Binns saw Fleming’s puzzled expression. ‘Geoff and Maureen have a son, who is about the same age as Mike’s boy Daniel, but the lad’s both physically and mentally disabled. I’m not sure of the exact details, but I do know he attends a special needs school and Geoff told me the costs are a terrible burden, even with two salaries, so that must be a concern for Maureen.’
‘Oh Lord, that makes things even worse, if that were possible. It’s remarkable that you only get to find out what goes on behind other people’s doors when something like this happens. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Your shift will be covered, and you will be paid for it, all right?’
Binns nodded his thanks. ‘Is there any sign of progress towards finding out who was responsible?’
Fleming shook her head ‘Apart from the theory that he interrupted poachers at work, and recovery of the bullet that would give us a ballistics match,
sadly, we’re no further forward.’
It was mid-afternoon when Clara got a phone call from one of the officers involved in the search at the Newsome house.
‘I’m still at the Newsome’ house, although noisome would be a better description. How people can live like this, I don’t know. I’ve seen cleaner, tidier pigsties. Anyway, I think someone from CID ought to come back out here.’
Fifteen minutes later Clara and Pearce arrived to find the officer waiting by the dilapidated fence that acted as a demarcation between the pavement and the garden. Clara got out of the car and walked carefully across the crumbling concrete towards the motorhome alongside the house. The officer opened the door of the vehicle and she and Pearce followed him inside. ‘I found the keys to this hidden in a tobacco tin inside one of the drawers in the main bedroom. That made me suspicious. Why keep them hidden? So I thought I’d have a look. That’s when I found this. I poked one of them and it feels like a block of something. That’s when I called you.’
He pointed to one of the bench seats that folded out to make a bed base. The top was hinged to provide storage space inside and he had propped the lid open with a cushion. Clara peered inside and saw hidden among some blankets, four large parcels, neatly wrapped in black plastic. She put on a pair of latex gloves, removed one of the parcels and hefted the weight.
‘What do you reckon?’ Pearce asked.
‘One thing for certain, I’m prepared to bet it isn’t a bag of sugar. I think we’re going to have to make a new charge sheet out for Mrs Newsome. The shoplifting allegation is the least of her worries now. I think there are grounds for refusing bail. I’ll wait until I’ve interviewed her than she can go to the cells at Netherdale.’
‘What about her husband?’