‘Well, I didn’t expect that,’ Paul said as they watched Brian Fisher shuffle from the room in his coverall.
‘No, I didn’t expect him of all people to fall on his sword, but it does make our life easier. Just think if everyone rolled over so easily?’
‘I think he is the only one so far who has actually got the intelligence to see that the evidence we will get from the computer will damn them all. Like he said, he was addicted but once he became involved, the others had him over a barrel.’
***
It had reached five fifteen and Dylan noticed that Vicky had not yet returned from the promotion assessments being held at HQ. There were no messages left for him from her. He hoped everything had gone well. When she did return she looked exhausted from the day’s events.
‘Well, did you give it your best shot?’
‘Yes, and as far as I could tell there were no low ballers. Nothing I couldn’t deal with. But who knows if it was good enough?’
‘I hear Hugo-Watkins was watching.’
‘He was?’
‘Yes,’ he said with a glimmer in his eye that Vicky saw was respect. ‘Fisher fell on his sword and admitted his involvement and meeting Penny Sanderson.’
‘He did? And he was supposed to be in charge of our local mortuary. It beggars belief.’
‘He’s out on bail.’
‘None of them should have their freedom after what they’ve done.’
‘He says the others threatened to expose him for downloading indecent images. His excuse – he was addicted.’
‘Gross. I wish I’d been there.’
‘You missed nothing. It was a short confessional.’
‘Is he married?’
Dylan nodded. ‘And a daughter at uni.’
Vicky turned.
‘Where you going?’
‘I’m off for a pint,’ she said. ‘You coming?’
‘Can’t at the moment, and don’t you go getting drunk either. You’ve got to lead by example from now on.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said waving her hand to him over her shoulder. ‘I’ll get the train home, don’t worry. See you tomorrow.’
***
Dylan walked to his car with two things on his mind. A bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers for Jen. He was pleased with how the day had gone and tomorrow he planned a proper debrief with the team.
As he sat in the car with his mobile in his hand ready to text Jen, he saw Hugo-Watkin’s car out of the corner of his eye, pulling into the yard. He parked next to Dylan in his own parking bay and got out of his car with the nimbleness of youth.
‘Been at HQ all day, Jack, watching the candidates for Detective Sergeant. We chose well, in confidence mind,’ he said tapping the side of his nose with his finger tip. ‘Commendable performance by our Vicky Hardacre. I’m glad I put her through. Mum’s the word, Jack, though. Mum’s the word. It’s your promotion assessment in a couple of weeks, Jack, isn’t it? Better get studying. Can’t let the side down,’ he said before walking off whistling.
Dylan shook his head.
***
‘What are we celebrating?’ Jen asked, when Dylan produced the flowers and wine.
‘Us,’ Dylan said. He reached for her hand and put it to his lips, and then with sudden tenderness he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips.
Chapter Forty-One
‘Now everything is coming together and the files are being prepared I’ve decided to take a week off before the promotion boards. I want to read up on the Forces Strategic aim and a few Home Office policies,’ he said as they lay next to each other in bed.
‘Good, I’m glad you’re taking it seriously. I shall see if I can take the week off, too.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ he asked. ‘Fail to plan, plan to fail as they say.’ Dylan turned to Jen.
‘You show ’em, Jack,’ she said with a contented smile on her face as she snuggled her head into his bare chest.
‘I don’t know about that but I’ll not be caught out on something that I could have read up on, especially with the chips against me.’
Jen looked up at him. ‘You think so?’
‘I’m not daft Jen. I know so,’ he said.
‘A week of you, at home. How will I be able to control myself?’ Jen giggled. Maisy called. Jen raised her eyes to the ceiling.
Dylan chuckled.
***
Was the rebel Jack Dylan becoming a conformist in the desire to achieve the next rank? During the week he sat for hours reading Home Office Circulars and preparing notes.
Jen kept Maisy as quiet as she could. They went on long walks with Max and played in her room. Jen’s admiration for his commitment was expressed when she spoke, over the phone to her colleagues at work.
‘I have never seen him so determined.’
Dylan would gaze at his wife and daughter from the dining room table as he worked. The weather was kind enough to allow Jen to take a deckchair and a blanket to the bottom of the garden and under the shade of the old oak tree he could see her blonde head moving to and fro as she chased after their lively little girl. Her face could be serene, puzzled and troubled in the space of just a few minutes. An anxious motherliness watching their daughter on the edge of experiences that could be joyous one minute and potentially harmful the next.
Jen sat quietly reading her book after dinner on the last day of their leave. The house was quite. Jack worked on raising his head for no more than to eat his meals or sometimes watch the news.
On the morning of the assessment board Dylan and Jen were sat eating breakfast when the postman knocked at the door. ‘Letter to sign for,’ the postman said. He heard Jen shut the door and saw her throw the letter he had delivered down on the breakfast table. Dylan juggled with a slice of toast and his pen. She picked up her the cup and studied the handwriting on the envelope.
‘I think it’s from Penny,’ she said pushing it towards Dylan.
‘Are you going to open it?’
‘What can it say that I don’t already know?’ she said. They exchanged a glance and his face lost its patient look.
‘For goodness sake, open it.’
Jen stood and picked up the envelope and putting her foot on the dustbin peddle she stuffed it in the bin.
‘It could contain evidence.’
‘Take it out then and read it if you want. Penny betrayed me. I could never, ever, forgive her.’
‘I think she knows that and you’ve made it quite clear,’ he said retrieving the letter from the bin and ripping it open.
‘Sorry,’ he read. ‘I hope we can still be friends. I got things wrong. I didn’t know he would try and silence Max so he could get to you.’
‘She... he poisoned Max?’ Jen said in a whisper.
‘He told me the gun was fake,’ Dylan continued.
Jen’s eyes opened wide. ‘He had a gun?’ she asked.
Dylan grabbed her by the shoulders and held her still. She grabbed the letter and tore it into tiny little pieces. ‘The bitch! She won’t get the chance to get anything wrong again.’
Dylan’s phone rang and he reached for it.
‘I P A S S E D,’ Vicky screamed. Dylan held the phone away from his ear. His smile spread from ear to ear.
‘Drinks are on me.’ Vicky’s excitement was infectious and Jen hearing her delight couldn’t help but smile through her tears.
‘Not until I’ve sat mine,’ he said.
‘Good luck, boss. Although nobody wants you to get through because you would have to leave us,’ she said.
***
Dylan was dressed in his best suit, shirt and tie. ‘I’m heading off early, so I don’t get stuck in traffic,’ he said. Nothing stopped Dylan’s appetite and over lunch in Headquarters canteen he chatted with a few other hopeful candidates. They all had something in common, a time full of scenarios, mock incidents, paperwork and in amongst that an interview with two Acting Chief Constables, Edward Thornton and Miles Carter. Dylan was in no doubt AC
C Thornton would be aware of Dylan’s involvement in the scrum down meeting for his son’s promotion board from Inspector Gaskin.
At the close of the day he enquired how many candidates still had to be interviewed.
‘The results will be out in the post next week under confidential cover,’ he was told.
***
For now it was back to normal. Dylan had had the debrief and charges had been laid. Ahead of him lay meetings with prosecuting barristers and then a trial would eventually commence but that could be a year away. He felt for the jury if they were to be subjected to the photographic evidence. But, he hoped the perpetrators would plead guilty and limit the damage to more poor souls. He had to be realistic, these reprobates were the lowest of the low, who thought only of themselves and self-gratification. If they thought there was the slightest chance that they would get off they’d plead not guilty, that he was sure. A plea of not guilty would also mean that they could re-live the whole sordid episode again in court and in front of an audience. DI Dylan shuddered at the thought. The Bare Poster site would have worldwide implications. Thankfully that would be taken on by a national unit which would would have the necessary time, budget, expertise and resources allocated to deal with those involved. He wondered if his friends Phil and Yin Johnson, renowned International Private Investigators had come across the Bare Poster site as they daily tracked and investigated people on the worldwide web?
Jen started watching for the postman in the week ahead. Much to Dylan’s amusement.
‘It won’t be here till Thursday,’ Dylan said.
On the Thursday morning the postman arrived with an official marked private and confidential envelope for Dylan
‘Open it,’ he said.
‘No, I couldn’t, you,’ she said offering it to him with trembling hands. Her heart raced as he pulled her to his side and ripped open the envelope...
About the Authors
Carol and Bob Bridgestock were both born and lived in West Yorkshire until they relocated to the Isle of Wight in 2003. Between them they have a staggering 47years employment with the police, Carol being a member of the Civilian support staff and Bob being a Senior Police Officer.
As a career detective Bob worked in the CID at every rank. For over half of his service he was a senior detective, retiring at the rank of Detective Superintendent.
As a Senior Investigative Officer (SIO) in charge of homicide cases he took command of some twenty-six murder investigations, twenty-three major incidents including shootings and attempted murders and over fifty suspicious deaths and numerous sexual assaults, some of which were extremely high profile in his last three years alone.
In 1988 Carol commenced working for the Police as a member of the support staff in the Administration Department. As a supervisor she received a Chief Constable’s commendation for outstanding work for her determination and drive creating a poster competition for an Autumn Fall Crime initiative.
Bob and Carol are now script consultants on the BBC’s hit drama Happy Valley and ITV’s award winning Scott & Bailey.
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Other books in the series:
Deadly Focus
Consequences
White Lilies
Snow Kills
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Reprobates Page 29