Snow Kills

by RC Bridgestock

  ‘He’s come into the enquiry of the missing hairdresser Kayleigh Harwood. We’ve spoken to him but nothing to connect him, nor to eliminate either...’ Dylan said. ‘Are you two alright to interview him for this one?’

  ‘Certainly, boss,’ replied Hornby.‘ He needs taking off the streets. In my mind he’s the classic indecency man. According to intelligence he’s got form for flashing, now indecent assault – and who knows what else?’

  ‘He needs bloody castrating if you ask me,’ Charlie said under his breath.

  ‘Let me know how you get on. And when you’ve finished, I’d like a couple of our team to speak to him again regarding the Harwood girl.’

  ‘Will do, boss.’

  ‘Cheers lads, and by the way good lock up. Well done on the stripes Hornby, I can see I’d better look out for my parking space.’

  ‘Thanks boss,’ said PS Hornby. ‘Appreciated, I’ve grown up a bit since then...’ he added awkwardly.

  ‘Good to hear.’

  Dylan picked up his phone, but the telephone rang for a while before it was picked up by the Child Protection Unit. ‘Inspector Dawn Farren, CPU,’ Dawn said.

  ‘You don’t happen to have one of those lovely embroidered hankies that I’m partial to in your pocket?’ he said in a deep Yorkshire drawl.

  ‘Jack Dylan, I’d know that fetish anywhere. It seems ages. How y’doin?’

  ‘Sleepless nights, mostly wind... and that’s just Jen,’ Dylan laughed.

  ‘You are awful,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘You’ve just had a young lass brought in called Sharon Manning, and uniform have locked up a Donny Longbottom who features in the Kayleigh Harwood enquiry. Tell you what, put the kettle on and I’ll drive over to see you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be passing Thomas’s Bakery would you?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Bring a couple of vanilla slices with you and I’m all yours.’

  ‘A cream cake and you’re anyone’s Dawn,’ Dylan smiled at the familiarity of his old friend and colleague.

  ‘Don’t tell everyone,’ she laughed. Dylan could visualise the round cheery face and rosy complexion framed by her dark bobbed hair.

  ‘I’m leaving this minute,’ he said, picking up the paperwork as he stood and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

  Dylan saw Chief Superintendent Hugo-Watkins in the yard talking to John Benjamin and put up his hand to acknowledge them. What a feeble, insignificant looking man he was, standing beside the big, black, athletic-looking detective. After his stint at Training School, John was back in the CID office as a substantive Detective Sergeant – and was just the presence needed on the skulls enquiry.

  Dylan arrived at the Child Protection Unit armed with the requested goodies. He stood for a moment at the front of the new building, taking in its impressive frontage. As he walked towards the large glass revolving doors he could see Dawn inside at the reception desk speaking with DI Turner. As soon as she saw him her face lit up and Shaun Turner watched her leave and go straight into Dylan’s open arms.

  ‘Great to see you,’ said Dylan, as he hugged Dawn. She held him tight for a moment or two.

  ‘Ooo it’s so good to see you too, long time no see,’ she said patting him on his back in a motherly fashion.

  ‘I think you might have an admirer there,’ Dylan said, nodding over her shoulder towards the DI.

  ‘Well, you’ve either got it or you haven’t,’ she said wiggling her voluptuous hips.

  ‘How’s the girl?’ he said.

  ‘Not great, her lip’s a mess and she bit her tongue quite badly,’ she grimaced.

  ‘You working with the Hampshire lads?’ he said, with a nod once again in DI Turner’s direction.

  ‘Just a familial DNA job, but it hasn’t come to anything on our patch. I presumed they were working with you too?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No, they’re working out of our office but that’s it.’

  ‘Ah, that’s why he wanted the lowdown on you,’ she said, satisfied.

  Dylan shrugged. ‘He’s a detective isn’t he, we’re all bloody nosey. You okay now?’ he asked.

  ‘Getting there, I didn’t realise how much having Violet would affect me. I truly thought I was going mad until the doctors diagnosed the post natal depression,’ she said.

  Dylan looked at Dawn in mock horror. ‘You didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell me you’re stark raving bonkers,’ he laughed. She slapped him, playfully.

  ‘How are Violet and Ralph?’

  ‘Violet is running us ragged. Got her dad wrapped around her little finger and he has been so busy at the restaurant over Christmas that he had to take on extra staff.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  She nodded. ‘Mmm...’ she said.

  ‘Thank goodness they finally got it together to replace the temporary unit,’ Dylan said, arm around her as he ushered her forward and towards the doors of the new structure.

  ‘The new facility is unbelievable, such a step forward for us and it’s brilliant to have a team of key staff here that have immediate access to each other, especially with ongoing enquiries.’

  ‘It’s much better having a private environment for the survivors of horrendous crimes. A police station wasn’t the right place and the temporary unit ... well, now that was nothing more than a dismal excuse given to us by the Force. Although they are threatening to dissect the unit and rename us again,’ she looked skywards.

  Dylan raised his eyebrows, ‘And the flavour of the month being?’

  ‘Police Safeguarding Unit, believe it or not?’

  Entry to the building was via an intercom and Dawn let them in. Dylan gave a nod to Shaun Turner, who was leaning on the reception desk. He followed Dawn up a small flight of stairs and into her modern and comfortable office with all the up to date systems on the new power desk.

  ‘This makes my office look dire. I’m dead impressed,’ he said with a low whistle. ‘About time they constructed buildings that are built for purpose and not just bought any old place that’s up for sale and have us make do. I wish to God they’d do the same with the computer systems.’

  ‘Well it’s a start, and very nice to work in,’ she said, ‘but not entirely thought through, we’ve no bloody parking,’ she said looking about him for where the cream cakes might be secreted. ‘Did you get the ...?’

  ‘You are so darn predictable,’ he said holding up his briefcase. ‘Sounds about right for the Think Tank’.

  ‘Oh, no. They’ll be squashed,’ she said, raising her hand in mock horror.

  ‘Squashed or not, I’m sure you’ll enjoy them,’ Dylan said as he watched her reach for her handkerchief in her skirt pocket and dab her mouth. He sighed, put his briefcase on the desk and opened it wide. Dawn’s eyes lit up. She took the cellophane container that housed the cakes, opened it and screwed up her face like the cat that had got the cream.

  ‘What’s up now?’ he said raising his voice.

  ‘Which is the biggest, do you think?’ she said puckering her lips.

  ‘I don’t care. Take your pick.’

  ‘You might not be bothered, but I am,’ she said picking up a slice and putting it to her lips. ‘Mmm..’ she moaned with delight through a mouthful of puff pastry and vanilla custard. She sat down in her chair with a thud and moaned again loudly. ‘You certainly know how to spoil a girl.’ Her eyes flew open as she licked the icing from the top. ‘What was with them poxy Jaffa cake biscuits you brought me when Violet was born?’ she said, words muffled through the mouthful of pastry. ‘Now, if you’d have brought me one of these,’ she said, eyeing up the second vanilla slice that remained untouched, ‘I might’ve got better a whole lot quicker,’ she said through another mouthful.

  Dylan laughed heartily. It was so good to have the old Dawn back. He had worried that she wouldn’t conquer her depression after numerous miscarriages and the birth of a much-wanted daughter. She had been the l
ife and soul of his enquiries in the past. His very own Dawn French lookalike; there would never be another Dawn Farren.

  ‘I thought I’d lost you to the depths of despair at one time.’

  ‘We got the statue like you suggested, in the garden, to remember the babies that didn’t make it. It helps ... thank you,’ she said covering his hand with hers. He looked at her plump white hands, with soft, blunt fingertips and smiled weakly. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gazed into his. She paused for a moment in reflection. The door opened. DI Turner stood before them.

  ‘Dawn?’ said Shaun Turner.

  Dylan and Dawn turned to face him. Dawn wiped a tear from her eye and withdrew her hand from Dylan’s quickly.

  ‘Sorry, to interrupt,’ he said with a discreet little cough. There was a brief moment of embarrassment on his part. ‘I’m, off...,’ he said, nodding his head at them both and not waiting for a reply, he promptly shut the door.

  Dawn and Dylan looked at each other and burst out laughing. ‘Oops! Guess that’s another rumour started,’ she said.

  Her face turned serious and her eyes met his. ‘Tell me, how you coping with being a dad? I must admit you had me and Jen questioning whether you were living for this job and nothing else.’

  ‘Actually you might be surprised to hear that our dear departed colleague Larry Banks actually had something to do with the metamorphosis.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, he wrote me a note, given to me by his solicitor after they found his body and his exact words were that I should work to live, not live to work.’

  ‘Pity he had to get a poor young woman killed and leave a little girl orphaned to realise that little gem of wisdom, and make a significant impact on your life. Anyway, enough about our dear departed, bent colleague. There is more to life... Maisy?’

  Dylan’s face lit up at the mention of his daughter’s name.

  ‘She’s amazing... she’s going on eight months now,’ he said grappling in his jacket pocket for his wallet and a well thumbed picture to show off.

  ‘Oh, my God, she’s gorgeous and blonde curly hair.’

  ‘She takes after her mother, thankfully.’

  ‘Quite,’ she said raising her eyebrows. ‘You must come around and see us sometime and let Ralph cook you a meal. Mawingo is quiet at this time of year, so it will give my gorgeous hubby a chance to try out his new dishes on you, and give his staff at the restaurant something useful to occupy their idle hands.’

  ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘Well it sounds good to me – sure Ralph won’t mind? I bet the snowdrops are out now, aren’t they? Is that carpet of crocus in the grounds in bloom yet?’

  ‘Snowdrops are out but I haven’t seen anything of the crocus yet this year. I think the cold snap and heavy snowfall held them back a bit but I wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t out soon.’

  ‘I love the Sibden Valley, it’s always picturesque no matter what season we’re in,’ he said dreamily.

  ‘Yeah, until someone like Larry Banks decides to help get someone torched there. I don’t think the grass will ever grow back in the bottom car park.’

  ‘That’s the consequence isn’t it, I know. Did you have a good Christmas?’

  ‘Yeah, we did thanks. Violet actually enjoyed it this year, and you?’

  ‘Maisy played with the boxes and loved the crinkly wrapping paper and Max’s new dog chain, believe it or not. Jen was frazzled, I got called out during Christmas Eve to a hostage situation and a domestic stabbing on Christmas lunchtime so I was knackered by the time I got back and they were both in bed.’ Dylan shrugged, ‘Well you know what it’s like...’

  ‘You mean you were doing a Scrooge impersonation?’ she said.

  Dylan looked sheepish. ‘More like Jacob Marley’s ghost.’

  ‘Moody eh?’ she said, with a flick of her head.

  ‘Seldom seen and yes, moody sounds an apt description,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘To make it worse Cyril, Jen’s Dad, couldn’t make it because he was a bit under the weather. She worries about him being on the Isle of Wight alone and I think she misses the work banter too.’

  ‘Well, her Dad’s not exactly around the corner for her to visit, is he?’

  ‘I know, that’s what she says. Maybe I can fix that though. I’ve just had a good idea,’ he raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  ‘Poor Jen, knowing you that smile means she’s hot-footing it back to work,’ Dawn said, her brows furrowing.

  ‘She is threatening... but no, maybe an impromptu visit to her dad’s though,’ he said.

  ‘God willing there’ll be lots more Christmases for you all. Why do you think there’s always an increase in domestic violence over Christmas and New Year period?’

  ‘Ah, I don’t know. How long’s a piece of string?’ Dylan shrugged. ‘Between December 17th and 4thJanuary I was called to three bodies, all related to domestic violence.’

  ‘I wish you’d learn to say no, try the next mug,’ she said.

  ‘What, me?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, they’re only little once you know. Before you know it, Maisy will be having kids of her own. I finish at three o’clock these days, every day,’ she said.

  ‘You do?’ Dylan said. ‘Like I said, you’re not the first one to tell me to slow down and enjoy life.’

  Dawn raised both eyebrows. ‘I’m not?’

  ‘Larry...’

  ‘Not him again,’ she sighed. ‘You’ll be having him cast as a bloody saint before long,’ she said.

  ‘No, when Larry wrote to me to try to explain what had happened...’

  ‘What lies did he manage to spin for that web then?’ she said with indifference.

  ‘He said he knew the drink was his downfall.’

  ‘You don’t have to be the brightest button to know that.’

  ‘And he said he wanted me to know the truth. He didn’t think for a minute that the blackmailer would carry out the threats he made. He said he was sorry for letting the team down and asked for forgiveness.’

  Dawn shook her head. ‘Well that sounds about right for him, thinking about himself as per usual.’

  ‘He was prepared to die. He knew Liz’s husband would be out to get revenge once he knew he was involved.’

  ‘Big of him,’ she said, flatly.

  ‘If I can’t trust my own team Dawn, who the hell can I trust?’ he said with a sigh. ‘It seems like a lifetime ago now and her husband Malcolm is still missing. I guess he’ll turn up eventually, one day. His little girl is an orphan until he does.’

  Dawn shuddered. ‘Let’s hope he does. Well, by the sound of it Sharon Manning was flaming lucky this morning. The girls are just video interviewing her now,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a good job people were about at the time,’ Dylan said.

  ‘And prepared to get involved. Her scalp is very sore where he pulled her hair out.’

  ‘They’ve got him in for indecent assault at the moment but we’ll run him or for attempted rape or maybe even abduction. That was his intention, after all.’

  ‘He apparently told her he wouldn’t harm her, he just wanted to give her one.’

  ‘Well that declaration from her should get him remanded so he can’t attack anyone else. How’s Sharon coping?’

  ‘How does anyone cope?’ She’ll have nightmares for years to come, poor thing. I was only talking to a lady the other day at a meeting who had been attacked in much the same way sixteen years ago and she still won’t go out on her own. While the wanker who attacked her feeds on the fantasy, she’ll have to cope with the fear. Not fair, is it?’

  ‘No, but all we can do is our best to get him put away, and for a long time.’

  ‘I’ll get them to update you later.’

  Dylan’s mobile buzzed and Dawn’s office phone started ringing.

  ‘Do you think somebody is trying to tell us something?’ Dylan said with the tilt of his head and half a smile. He answered his phone.<
br />
  ‘Boss, just thought you would like to know someone has rang in to say they think they know who the two lads were, seen banging on the car the night Kayleigh Harwood went missing, but they’ll only speak to the man in charge of the investigation.’

  ‘I’m on my way, have you got contact details?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll call them from the office.’

  ‘Okay, boss.

  ’Would it be a crank or a genuine call?’ Dylan wondered as he collected his coat, picked up his briefcase and waved Dawn a silent goodbye.

  DI Shaun Turner sat in the coffee bar considering his options. He had thought of Jen every day since he’d learned she had left the Island, compartmentalising the guilt and blaming it on his misguided youth, when the doctor had delivered the blow that his fiancée at that time would never be able to have his child and he ran away. However, the second he’d seen her again with Maisy visiting Harrowfield police station, he knew his feelings for her were as strong as ever. He knew Dylan was dedicated to the Force by the long hours he spent at work, or was dedication the wrong word? Could he have other reasons for staying at work? The girls were awful flirty with him – and look at the predicament he’d found him in today with Dawn Farren. Dawn had given him Dylan’s home number and he truly believed at the time when he called that hearing Jen’s voice, however briefly, when she picked up, would be enough for him. But now he realised it wasn’t, he had to see her and tell her how he felt before he went back home to his loveless, childless marriage. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialled Dylan and Jen’s number.

  ‘Jen,’ he said. ‘It’s Shaun. I have to see you.’

  Chapter 21

  A Harrowfield telephone number had been scrawled across a pink post-it-note and was stuck to his computer screen. Dylan picked up the phone and dialled it hurriedly but it rang out over and over again on deaf ears, as his mum would have said. He put the phone on its cradle, sat down, sighed and checked the written numerals before dialling more carefully this time. A female voice answered this time, taking him by surprise,