A Normal November: The Freeman Files Series: Book 15

by Ted Tayler

  “Richard persuaded you to stick together,” said Luke. “Was it him who threw the banger?”

  Jeff Hughes nodded.

  “We cycled the two miles home to Pinehurst, throwing the rest of our fireworks over hedges and walls as we went. A week later, Richard started talking about moving out of our homes to share a house. He wanted to make certain nobody broke ranks.”

  “You didn’t break ranks for over ten years until Louise came on the scene,” said Gus. “That was the real reason for Richard shunning Eddie when he asked for help. Everyone believed Richard didn’t marry until he met Eve because he was waiting for the right girl. The truth is, he expected you and Eddie to stay single. If you separated for any length of time, there was always the risk one of you would let something slip regarding your involvement in young Stan Jones’s accident.”

  “Were you that much under his spell?” asked Luke.

  “Richard could be very persuasive,” said Jeff. “He was unhappy when I started seeing Louise. Richard told me she wasn’t right for me, that I was better off as a bachelor. Perhaps that was why Louise and I drifted apart. Eddie stepped into my shoes, and it was soon clear he wasn’t prepared to listen to Richard anymore. Eddie and Louise married in 2000, and somehow Richard and I found the money to keep that roof over our heads. It was touch and go.”

  “How were things between you and Richard?” asked Gus.

  “We were both growing our respective businesses over the next five or six years. Although we shared the house, we had less spare time with each successive year. We still attended branch meetings at Round Table, visited the Folk Club in Highworth, and supported the Campaign for Real Ale functions. Our social life wasn’t every night of the week as it had been in our teenage years. Eddie and Louise came to the Folk Club now and then, and they looked so happy. When Louise gave birth to Tyson, Eddie was like a dog with two tails. I didn’t want to miss out on what they had, but I was in my early thirties, and most of the girls we met were married already, engaged, or not interested. Richard soon noticed I was searching online for a bride. We argued. I told him we’d shielded one another long enough. Nobody cared what happened so many years ago. Stan Jones had got on with his life, despite his scars. His girlfriend had changed her mind at the last minute, but Stan didn’t live in Swindon any longer. So, how were we to know he wasn’t married with children in another part of the country? His father lived across the road from Richard’s garage. I asked Richard if any of the neighbours knew where Stan lived. Richard told me that according to people on Ponting Street, young Stan drove across Europe, driving his own truck, and had made a success of his life. Then we learned Eddie’s son, Tyson had a sister, Rhiannon, and I redoubled my efforts to find a partner. I got several replies from my search, but for one reason or another, they fell through. I started writing to Lamai four years ago. When Richard and I were in town for a drink on the night he met Eve; I’d recently received a letter from Lamai. Richard knew I was keen on her, and he could tell from my reaction when I read her letter Lamai was just as interested.”

  “So, Richard decided if Lamai arrived from Thailand shortly, he had to alter his plans,” said Gus. “Our impression was Richard and Eve were a match made in heaven. You’re suggesting something quite different.”

  “Oh, Richard’s reaction, when they met that night, was genuine,” said Jeff. “We’d lived together for too long for him to fool me. It was just that Richard opened up to the possibility of something happening instead of repressing any feelings he had for a girl. I still had reservations over Lamai because of her age at that stage. When Richard met Eve, Lamai was several months away from her nineteenth birthday. I was still deciding if it was the right thing to do when Richard announced he and Eve were getting married. He asked me to be his best man. You know what happened next; they married in the Spring, and Richard died six months later.”

  “On Monday the seventh of November,” said Gus. “Yes, there’s a pattern emerging, isn’t there?”

  “What happens now?” asked Jeff Hughes.

  “We pass the results of our case reviews further up the chain of command,” said Gus. “It’s for others to decide what action to take for an incident that took place thirty years ago. We’ll call the desk sergeant to collect you, Mr Hughes. You can drive Mr Dolman home. I don’t mind if you tell him your secret’s out at last.”

  Jeff Hughes stood and waited while Luke made the call.

  “We were idiots to go along with what Richard decided,” he said. “He tried to salve his conscience with his charity work, but it will come out now. Did you know that Matt Merchant would have ended in jail the way he was going? Richard gave him a job and helped keep him on the straight and narrow.”

  The desk sergeant tapped on the door. Jeff Hughes left the room.

  “He didn’t ask, guv,” said Blessing.

  “I know,” said Gus. “We need to work fast. It’s September already. If they are in danger, we’ll need to arrange protection for them with Geoff Mercer.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” said Luke. “They built such a strong wall around themselves after that night, yet it crumbled in minutes.”

  “You followed my instructions to the letter, Luke,” said Gus. “I asked you both to listen for a possible lead, and you used what Eddie Dolman said to prise open Jeff Hughes’s defence. Blessing and I came to join you and pursued that lead with vigour. Hughes didn’t have an answer. Well done.”

  “Thanks, guv,” said Luke. “You threw me for a second though when you mentioned the bicycles, Blessing.”

  “It was obvious, wasn’t it?” she replied. “Gus always used that bicycle as the reason to dismiss the attack as a robbery. He also thought it ruled out a connection to a criminal gang. It had to be important, but we could never fathom why. As soon as Hughes told us they rode everywhere on bicycles as teenagers, that was it. Matt Merchant said Richard cycled to work every day from Pinehurst and continued to cycle after he married. Richard didn’t own a modern bicycle. It was the old-fashioned variety, with a comfortable saddle and panniers. It might not have been the same one he rode that night in November 1989, but I bet it was the same model.”

  “Stan Jones could have seen Richard’s bicycle beside the garage when he lived with his father,” said Luke. “He recognised it.”

  “You wouldn’t forget it, would you, Luke?” said Blessing.

  “But young Stan wasn’t there that night two years ago,” said Luke.

  “His rig wasn’t there,” said Blessing. “We know he parked it on the outskirts of town when he was visiting his father. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t in Swindon.”

  “We have work to do,” said Gus. “Time to vacate this interview room and return to the office. Come on.”

  Blessing had to run to keep up with Gus as he strode along the passageways back to Reception. Luke was keeping pace with Gus until Tom Spencer appeared ahead of them.

  “You can travel back in Gus’s car, Blessing,” he said. “I’ll catch you up on the road.”

  “Have you had a good morning, Luke?” asked Tom.

  “We’ve had a significant break in the case,” said Luke. “We aren’t at the same stage as you, grilling the guilty parties, but we’re much further forward than we were when we arrived.”

  “I’m glad,” said Tom. “I’m too busy to hear it now, Luke. Perhaps you can tell me over that drink I mentioned yesterday?”

  “I’d like that,” said Luke.

  When Luke turned into the Old Police Station car park, it was fast approaching noon. Gus and Blessing had already got out of the Focus and were walking to the lift.

  “Wait for me,” he called.

  Luke parked his car and dashed across to get into the lift with Gus and Blessing.

  “Sorry, I wanted to congratulate Tom Spencer on a job well done. He was curious how his old case was progressing. I told him as much as I thought sensible.”

  “Quite right, too,” said Gus. “We’re a long way from putting anyone in t
he frame for murder. We’ve uncovered a dark secret. Whether it was the catalyst for murder, we can’t say for sure.”

  Alex, Neil, and Lydia were engrossed in their work when the others exited the lift.

  “I hope you guys had a good morning,” said Neil. “It’s been heavy going for use, I’m afraid.”

  “What was the problem, Neil,” asked Gus.

  “Coffee, guv?” asked Blessing. Gus nodded. Luke followed Blessing to the restroom.

  “We searched high and low on social media for signs of Stan Jones, guv. There’s not a trace of him anywhere.”

  “We hoped to find a picture of his rig,” said Lydia. “If Stan earned enough to buy his own vehicle, he must have been proud of it.”

  “Nothing,” said Alex. “We switched our attention to the membership listings for the three organisations. We hunted for more common links that might add to our list of persons of interest.”

  “Zilch,” said Lydia. “There was nobody on the lists with any connection to a name we’ve uncovered during this investigation.”

  Blessing and Luke returned with coffees for everyone.

  “As it’s only just gone noon, we thought you wouldn’t have stopped for lunch yet,” she said. “We didn’t get offered drinks at Gablecross.”

  Blessing glanced at Luke. One of us did, but Luke had told her that in confidence. In turn, Blessing told Luke about her successful dinner date last night with Jamie BT. Things were on an improving trend for both of them, it appeared.

  “Right,” said Gus. “We listened to Dolman and Hughes give us the agreed version of what happened in the years leading up to Chaloner’s murder. Then Luke opened a tiny crack, and the dam burst. Hughes confessed that as teenagers, they had ridden through the streets of Swindon creating havoc by throwing fireworks with the inevitable results.”

  “They caused Stan Jones’s disfigurement,” said Lydia. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “How come they didn’t get caught, guv?” asked Neil.

  “They cycled away before Stan’s parents came outside,” said Luke. “The street was empty, and Stan didn’t know who threw the firework that exploded in his face. He might have told his parents there were three boys on bicycles, but at his age, he wouldn’t know any of their names or that they lived just two miles away in Pinehurst.”

  “Hughes told us Chaloner threw the firework that did the damage,” said Gus. “He was the ringleader and swore the others to secrecy. For years, they lived together, socialized together, and Chaloner kept them under his watchful eye.”

  “He wasn’t the saint everyone thought he was,” said Lydia.

  “Chaloner tried to make amends with charity work and by giving others a helping hand,” said Luke. “The murder file hinted Matt Merchant had his brushes with the law as a teenager. Hughes told us Chaloner gave Matt a job in a last-ditch attempt to keep him out of prison.”

  “It worked,” said Neil. “He runs the business now.”

  “I feel sorry for Eve Chaloner,” said Lydia. “When we complete our reports, she’ll learn the truth about her late husband.”

  “At least Stan Jones will know who harmed his son,” said Neil. “Hang on, do you think the son killed Richard Chaloner, guv?”

  “I don’t think there’s any doubt young Stan had motive, Neil,” said Gus. “It’s means and opportunity we need to prove.”

  “How do we do that, guv,” asked Alex.

  “I want to track his movements from November 2004 to the present day,” said Gus. “That’s probably an impossible task, but let me explain my reasoning.”

  Gus stood up, walked to the nearest whiteboard, and added two dates:

  November 5th, 1989

  November 8th, 2003

  Gus left a sizeable gap before writing:

  November 7th, 2016

  “Our story began on Bonfire Night in 1989 when Chaloner threw that firework with no regard for the damage it might cause. He didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, but Stan Jones was too young to know what might happen. The blast scarred his left hand and face. Fourteen years later, after going out together for two years, Stan’s girlfriend doesn’t arrive for their registry office wedding.”

  “Then, thirteen years later, around the same time, someone shoots Richard Chaloner in his garage,” said Alex. “Stan Jones is common to both the earlier dates, guv, but even if Jones was in the country on the day of the murder, why then?

  “Why the gap, guv?” asked Neil.

  “Do you mean, why did Jones wait twenty-seven years for his revenge over the firework incident? Or why did Jones shoot Chaloner thirteen years after Tara Laing walked out on him? Perhaps you meant why leave a sizeable gap between the dates.”

  “Is this where you get all Hercules Poirot, guv?” asked Lydia.

  “I can thank my little grey cells, Lydia,” said Gus. “The Chief Constable told me I was guilty of jumping in too soon when I first heard the details of this case. The first thing that struck me was the lack of panic after the killer shot Chaloner. I could see he’d done his homework on Matt Merchant and Harry Simpkins. I didn’t understand the significance of the slashed bicycle tyre, but my grey cells warned me it was important. It was that which convinced me the robbery was an afterthought. The killer waited in the dark in the centre of the workshop after everyone had left. Chaloner left the office to investigate. The killer was someone he knew. It might have explained why there was no struggle. Chaloner accepted his fate.”

  “What was significant about the slashed tyre, guv?” asked Neil.

  “It’s the bike you need to concentrate on, Neil,” said Blessing. “I think it possible it was the same one Chaloner rode the night Stan Jones got hurt.”

  “Blimey,” said Neil. “That could be tough to prove.”

  “Why?” asked Blessing. “The forensic team took the bike into evidence at Gablecross. They would have recorded every detail concerning that bike as it was part of a murder case. When they’d done with it, they would have returned it to Eve Chaloner at Shrivenham Road. Would Eve have thrown her husband’s prized possession out already? I doubt it. We could check it out, get the model verified, and link it to the 1989 incident.”

  “That’s one of several pieces to fit into our jigsaw, Blessing,” said Gus. “We also need to place Stan Jones in the garage on Monday, the seventh of November two years ago. I fear that might not be the last piece, and our team won’t be capable of finding the pieces of the bigger picture.”

  “The big gap, guv,” said Alex.

  “The last thing I said to Kenneth Truelove and Geoff Mercer on Monday lunchtime was that I didn’t believe Chaloner was our killer’s first victim.”

  “It was the wedding that never was that was the trigger,” said Luke.

  “There could be female victims Jones targeted,” said Lydia.

  Gus shook his head.

  “It’s each of the above,” he said. “November has been a significant month in Stan Jones’s life. First, it was when he received the burns that caused him so much pain. Those scars resulted in him having a miserable childhood. Then, just when he thought he’d found happiness with Tara, she jilted him in November. His mother, Jeanie, had suffered from cancer for a while but battled to stay alive for her only son’s wedding. Stan’s father told us she gave up after that setback. I’ve checked the date she died. It was November the first, 2005.”

  Gus added the date to the list on the whiteboard.

  “Was Lydia right to mention female victims, guv?” asked Neil.

  “I fear so,” said Gus.

  “How do we find out?” asked Alex.

  “Give Divya a photograph of Tara Laing, head and shoulders only, and ask her to find unsolved murders of women resembling Tara, in November, between 2005 and 2015.”

  “In the UK and mainland Europe, guv?” asked Alex.

  “That’s the size of it,” said Gus.

  “We’re taking a punt with this, aren’t we, guv?” asked Neil. “If Jones worked out Chaloner was respo
nsible for his injuries, why didn’t he attack him sooner? Why didn’t he attack Tara Laing, anyway? She was the one who jilted him.”

  “Long-distance lorry driving must be a lonely existence, Neil,” said Lydia. “Nothing to think about, except watching the road ahead for mile after mile and sleeping in your cab. With what happened in his childhood and then his experience with Tara, Stan must have spent thousands of hours going over how much he’d suffered. As Gus pointed out, November would be a trigger for dark thoughts every year. Remember what his father told us. Stan loves the springtime. It’s the period of the year furthest from his traumas. When November comes around, he remembers Tara and how she crushed his hopes of marriage and children. If he saw a young girl who reminded him of Tara, he could act on those thoughts of revenge he’d harboured during the past months. He would be attacking a stranger, but in his twisted mind, he would be killing Tara Laing.”

  “That makes a kind of sense,” said Neil, “but you haven’t explained why he waited so long to kill Richard Chaloner.”

  “That’s easy, Neil,” said Blessing. “Stan’s father told us his son came to visit him at Easter time this year. He also suggested young Stan kept in touch with local news while he was driving. Young Stan knew his mother had died, even though his father didn’t have a number to call him. So, he could have seen a report of Richard and Eve’s wedding in the spring, either on his travels or when he visited his father to collect his post. Can you imagine his reaction? Richard had never married. Then, suddenly, there he was, smiling at the camera with a beautiful woman by his side. No way was young Stan going to let the man responsible for the scars on his face have the life he’d dreamed of with Tara Laing. If Stan couldn’t be happy, nor could Richard Chaloner.”

  “Well done, Blessing,” said Gus. “We can’t do any more until we get results from the Hub. Get your digital files updated, and I’ll contact London Road. I imagine I’ll need to hand over the files to the Chief Constable sooner rather than later. It will depend on how quickly Divya comes back with answers.”