Cold Case

by M A Comley

  “No, not at all. I’m in shock right now. Sorry. Look, I better go. Any news on the burglars’ cause of death yet?”

  “Ah, the swift change of subject when the conversation becomes too intense. No, I had a traffic accident victim to deal with first thing. I’m just about to start an in-depth PM on them both now.”

  “Okay, ring me when you find anything out. I’ll call you this evening if I don’t hear from you before, and Simon...”

  “Yes, Inspector Parker?”

  “I love you, too.” Sally swiftly hung up before he had a chance to answer. Within seconds, a text message jingled on her mobile. She withdrew the phone from her pocket and looked at the message. She found a single red heart filling the tiny screen. Her heart skipped in her chest.

  She downed her coffee and left the office with a broad smile stretched across her face and a lightness in her feet. I deserve to be happy after what Darryl put me through. I just hope nothing happens to mess things up. It all seems too good to be true at the moment.

  Jack eyed her suspiciously. “Are you ready?”

  “Yep, I’ve sourced Brian Falkirk’s address. I haven’t rung ahead. Did you want me to do that?”

  “No, let’s shoot over there and take a chance on him being at home.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sally and Jack leapt out of the car once they arrived at Brian Falkirk’s detached bungalow. The cul-de-sac had obviously been built with the retired residents in mind. The rosebed in the centre was just showing signs of buds. Sally thought this road would suit her parents down to the ground. Stop it. They’re happy where they are now that the vile neighbours opposite have been moved on by the council.

  “Nice area,” Jack stated as he pushed open the wooden gate to the property.

  Sally noticed the smell of freshly mown grass. Clipped grass so early in the year was always a sign of a keen gardener.

  Jack did the honours of ringing the bell. Immediately, a tall, grey-haired, bespectacled man opened the door. “You look like coppers to me,” he said, frowning.

  “You’re still very perceptive, Mr. Falkirk. Mind if we come in for a few minutes?” Sally smiled as she showed him her ID.

  He leaned closer. “DI Parker, may I ask what this is in connection with?”

  “A cold case we’ve been assigned that you investigated ten years ago.”

  He nodded, stepping back to allow them in. Sally followed him up the hallway, through the kitchen, and into a glass-walled conservatory.

  Jack closed the front door and joined them.

  “Care for a cup of tea?”

  “I’ll get that, dear,” Mrs. Falkirk called out from the kitchen, running the tap and filling the kettle.

  “Thank you, that would be lovely,” Sally called back to the slim, well-dressed lady.

  “Take a seat. I presume you’re talking about the Aisha Thomas case as that’s the only case I left unsolved. It galls me to say that. Every copper wants to have an exemplary arrest record before they retire.”

  “It is. Actually, some new evidence was discovered this week. That’s why my boss has asked us to open it up again.”

  He frowned and tilted his head. “Don’t stop there, Inspector.”

  “I’d like to leave that part until the end, if you don’t mind. I wanted to know what led you to suspect the two burglars were guilty of killing Mrs. Thomas.”

  “I simply put two and two together. These two—Wilson and Jenkinson, I believe they were called—had been causing havoc in the neighbourhood around that time.”

  “But had they upped their game and killed anyone?”

  “Not that I recall. You know how it is, Inspector. Criminals get used to the buzz of outwitting the police, and it’s not uncommon for these guys to change their MO on occasion.”

  “Did they leave any evidence at the scene, for you to put them in the frame?”

  He fell silent as he thought back. Then he shook his head. “No, I can’t say they did.”

  “Then I have to say I’m a little disappointed and flummoxed as to why you would offer them up as the prime suspects. Why was that?”

  Falkirk fidgeted in his seat as Mrs. Falkirk entered the conservatory and placed a tray of mugs and a plate of biscuits on the wicker table in the middle of the room between the two wicker sofas occupied by Sally, Jack, and Brian Falkirk. She smiled and left the room again.

  Falkirk waited for his wife to leave the room then closed the door. He returned to his seat. “It was all we had at the time.”

  “Really? Because these two men were robbing the neighbourhood, you thought they’d be capable of, and wouldn’t think twice about, killing a copper’s wife?” Sally asked, her voice strained with disbelief.

  “It’s what we had. There was another murder around that time, I believe.”

  Sally raised an enquiring eyebrow at Jack, who shrugged and continued to take notes. “Go on. This didn’t appear in the case files, or if it did, I must have missed it.”

  “An old woman—bedridden, she was. I forget the name. I think she lived a couple of streets away from the Thomas house. Again, I had no evidence at that address but wrapped that case up early by pointing the finger at the burglars.”

  “And you don’t think that was a little naïve of you?”

  “Not in the slightest. It was a good residential area, and crimes were being committed around the same time, so I pieced all the pieces together and...”

  “Came up with an implausible solution. And your commanding officer at the time didn’t pull you up on it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate here, but I’m sure you’d do the same thing in my shoes.”

  Sally vehemently shook her head. “You’re wrong. I wouldn’t assume anything until there was evidence to back up my theory, but you had none. This old lady, was there anything reported missing from her home?”

  “I had no way of knowing. She was dead when we got there. According to the neighbours, she had no living relatives we could contact, hence the reason the trail went cold pretty damn quick.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Was her handbag at the scene?”

  “I seem to recall it was.”

  Sally sucked in a large impatient breath. “And was her purse inside?”

  He reached for his mug of tea, took a sip then nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  “And you still attributed her death to a burglary? Isn’t that the first thing a burglar would take?”

  He replaced his mug on the table, sat back in his chair, and glared at her. “All right, maybe I screwed up on that one, dismissed her death too quickly...”

  “You reckon? Why? Because she was old and bedridden and didn’t have a family?”

  “Maybe. Don’t tell me you’ve never done the same in your time on the force.”

  Sally laughed, flabbergasted by the man’s obvious lack of principles. “Are you for bloody real? Of course I’ve never done that. Have you, Jack?”

  Jack’s gaze rippled between Sally and Falkirk and finally settled back on his partner. “Umm... never been tempted to do that, either, boss. You’d yank my balls off and shove them in my mouth if I even suggested such a thing.”

  Sally smiled despite her anger. “You’re right, I would.” She turned to face Falkirk and said, “And your DCI should have done the same. I’m disappointed that you dismissed this woman’s death so swiftly. Every victim deserves their case to be investigated thoroughly.”

  Falkirk’s chin dipped to his chest. He seemed ashamed by her reprimand, but perhaps he was just feeling sorry for himself. “I’m sorry. I can see now that my actions were wrong.”

  “Okay, we’ll let that one slip... for now. This morning, we visited the victim’s neighbour, a Mr. Yates. He used to be a headmaster. Do you recall interviewing him at the time of Aisha’s death?”

  He scratched his head. “I think so. Why? What’s he said that I did wrong?”

  “Please, I’m not on some kind of witch hunt he
re. I’m simply trying to figure out who killed a serving police officer’s wife. Bear with me.”

  Falkirk nodded.

  “Mr. Yates mentioned another neighbour he had concerns about, a Mr. Warren Dean. Can you remember that conversation?”

  He shrugged. “I recognise the name. Couldn’t tell you in what context, however.”

  “He said that he highlighted the fact that Warren Dean appeared to have some sort of vendetta against Aisha Thomas, but that you didn’t seem bothered about the information. Can you tell me why?”

  “Because by then I had my suspects in mind.”

  “And that’s it? Is that how you solved all your cases? Once you had a suspect in mind, there was no deterring you from throwing the book at that suspect?”

  He ran a hand through his short hair and bit his bottom lip. “Yes. Please don’t tell me that you spend your time looking for suspects when you have identified a probable suspect already?”

  “Too bloody right, especially when there is no damn evidence to back up that speculation. For your information, Mr. Yates informed us that Warren Dean used to wait for Aisha to come home and start harassing her before she even stepped in the house. To me, that behaviour would flag him up as a definite suspect.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “No, because you were fixated with the two burglars, or was it because you wanted an easy life?”

  “Easy life? Are you kidding me? No copper has an easy life.”

  “I have to be honest with you. That is not why I signed up to the force. I joined to chase down the criminals and to rid our streets of people keen to bring pain and hardship to the general public.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Falkirk mumbled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

  Sally sighed. She hadn’t finished with this jerk yet. She intended to make him squirm a lot more. “During your investigation, did you ever interview the husband?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “As a suspect?” Jack asked harshly.

  Sally could tell that her partner’s patience was running out almost as fast as her own. “Yes, as a suspect,” she added.

  “No. Why? I didn’t see any reason to.”

  Sally clicked her fingers together. “That’s right, because as far as you were concerned, the burglars were the culprits, and no one else was in the frame, right?”

  “For the thousandth time—yes, that’s right.”

  “What about Aisha’s parents? Did you ever question them?”

  “About killing their own daughter? Now you’re being downright ridiculous. I’m not sure what kind of police training they issued you with, love, but to think the parents had a hand in this is just so far off the mark it would be regarded as lunacy.”

  “Really? Jack, would you like to enlighten the gentleman why we believe the parents might be suspects?”

  Jack looked up from his notebook and said two words: “Honour killing.”

  “What? No way. Not in a million years in this country.”

  “I see you don’t keep up with the news on TV then?”

  “Nope, most of it is made-up crap. Now I’m confused. So, who are you saying killed their daughter?”

  “That’s just it. We’ve only been on the case for a few days, and already, the suspect list is growing. How long did you work on the case? Six months or so?”

  “Yeah, but... it was the burglars,” he repeated with a defiant glare.

  Sally shook her head. “You’re sooo wrong about that. Going back to Patrick, did you interview his partner, Caroline Hawk, as to what his state of mind was at the time?”

  “No, there was no need. I could see for myself the man was bereft. Hang on, you keep coming back to Patrick. Are you telling me that you have him as your main suspect?”

  “I’m not saying that in the slightest, however, you know how many of these types of cases point to the husband killing the wife. We can’t discount him, especially with the new evidence we’ve uncovered.”

  “You mentioned that when you arrived, and yet you haven’t told me what that evidence is.”

  “Now I’ve pointed out where you went wrong, I’ll tell you. The culprits couldn’t have been Wilson and Jenkinson because their bodies—or should I say skeletal remains—have recently been discovered.”

  “What?” Falkirk shouted, his eyes as bulbous as snooker balls.

  “That’s right. It looks like they were both killed around the same time and buried close to Thetford Forest.”

  “That’s too bizarre for words.”

  “Here’s another fact you should be interested in: the pathologist tried to match the bite mark on Aisha’s arm to the two corpses, but it proved to be a negative result. Therefore, they are completely exonerated, at least in my book. Hence the reason behind our visit today and why my DCI has ordered a full review of the case. Did you even bother to match either of the men’s dental records to the bite mark on Aisha’s arm?”

  Falkirk’s head dropped again, and he mumbled, “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

  Sally couldn’t believe it when a lump formed in her throat, and she actually felt sorry for the former inspector. “Let’s put it this way. I think you’re guilty of taking your eye off the ball. We’re looking at this case with fresh eyes and the benefit of hard evidence, something that you and your team never had at your disposal back then. However, I don’t care whose toes I step on. I will find Aisha’s killer and the person who killed Wilson and Jenkinson, too. Whether the crimes are connected, we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m not sure if you’re still in contact with anyone at the station or not, but I’m asking you to keep this meeting confidential. Can you do that for me?”

  He nodded. “Of course. I can’t apologise enough for messing up the way I did. I hope you catch the perpetrator or perpetrators. My door is open if you need any more assistance on the case.”

  Sally rose from her chair, leaving her cup of tea untouched, while Jack swiftly downed his drink before he followed her back through the house. She smiled at Mrs. Falkirk, who was standing in the kitchen, preparing vegetables for the couple’s evening meal.

  Falkirk seemed a little awkward as he held open the door. “Thanks for agreeing to see us today, Mr. Falkirk.”

  “Anytime. Sorry I couldn’t be much help in the end.”

  Sally and Jack waved farewell.

  “What did you make of that?” Sally asked after they jumped into the car.

  Jack shook his head. “Maybe that’s how they did things back then.”

  “No way. Jack, we’re talking ten years ago, not blooming fifty. I’m going to have to take this to the DCI. I dread to think what the repercussions are going to be or how many innocent people are sitting in prison right now because of that man’s inept policing skills.”

  “Whoa, seriously?”

  Sally started the engine and nodded. “I’m dead serious about this. I can’t frigging believe what I just heard back there. You can’t tell me this case is a one-off, not after listening to his explanation of why he thought the burglars committed the crime and why he refused to point the finger elsewhere. What a bloody cock-up!” Sally put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb.

  “Do you think that’s why he looked so upset at times? Because he realised the likelihood of you reporting him?”

  “I reckon so. That was all about him, not the victims or the innocent people he’s banged up. My bet is that he’s fearing his pension could be stripped from him.”

  “Wow! I never even thought of that aspect. Do you really want to do that to him, boss?”

  Sally slammed on the brakes and stared at her partner open-mouthed for a second or two. “I can’t believe you just said that, Jack. Don’t make me out to be the evil bugger in all this.” Sally crunched into first gear and pulled off again, seething that her partner should think that way. The rest of the journey was spent in silence.

  When they arrived at the station, she told Jack to go back to the incident room while she went
in the opposite direction to see DCI Green. She knocked on his door, heard him talking on the phone, and waited for him to invite her in. Minutes later, the call came. Sally walked into the room, and he seemed surprised to see her.

  “Inspector Parker?”

  “I think we need a chat, sir. All right if I sit down?”

  “This sounds ominous. Is it to do with the cold case?”

  “In a way, sir.” Sally proceeded to recount her conversation with Brian Falkirk.

  DCI Green sat back in his chair, constantly tutting and shaking his head as he listened to what she had to say. “That’s incredible. It’s like listening to a case dating back to the days of Jack the Ripper.”

  “That’s not all, sir. I believe that if Falkirk was capable of this kind of stupidity once, then who’s to say he didn’t treat the other investigations he was tasked with the same way?”

  DCI Green bounced forward in his chair and placed his hands on the desk. “What? You think that’s possible?”

  “Don’t you, sir? We can’t dismiss my theory. What if I’m right? What if dozens of innocent men have been imprisoned by this imbecile? He was an inspector for fifteen years, sir. I’m not one to stir up trouble, but it galls me to think what might be at stake here.”

  “He might be guilty of being a prick on this one case, Inspector, however, we’d be treading on dangerous ground if we start shouting the odds about the other cases he’s overseen. CPS wouldn’t have let it happen, would they?”

  “I have no idea of knowing that, sir.”

  “Bloody hell! What if he worked over a hundred cases during his career? If we go with your theory, every single one of those cases would need to be reopened and reinvestigated from scratch. Can you imagine the cost implications in that?”

  “Are you suggesting we simply ignore this, sir?” Sally asked, dumbfounded by the way the conversation was heading.

  “I’m saying that I should think this dilemma over for a while before making our concerns public. Maybe I’ll delve into a couple of the cases he solved on the quiet. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Leave this with me. I’m trusting you to stay schtum about this, Inspector.”

  “Why, sir? Because a retired inspector’s pension could be in jeopardy if word gets out?”