Bostock came to stand by Quinn and he went along the line of nails. Shaking his head he turned, then stopped. “There, that wasn’t there this morning. I came in to collect some hurdles.” He pointed to a stack of straw bales that had been there some time as they were now grey with dust and cobwebs. Protruding from one was a knife handle and wrapped between the hilt and the straw was a butcher’s chainmail glove. From its appearance it looked as though it was a recent addition. Quinn looked at Bostock. “Was it here before and just been moved or did it come with the keys?”
“Never seen it before.” There was an uncertainty and confusion in Bostock’s voice. “What the fuck is going on?”
Shakti had noticed the worry in Belinda’s eyes when on their arrival she asked if they had checked the barn. She had seized the opportunity to question her when her husband was with Quinn. The information was sensitive and Shakti had assured her that she would not mention it when the men returned, informing her that she could not withhold evidence and that her husband would find out as the investigation proceeded. Shakti’s insistence that they were investigating two murders and not car theft seemed to bring her a greater degree of understanding but also anxiety. The door opened and Belinda jumped, looking towards it before returning her gaze to Shakti. She leaned over and touched the officer’s hand as if reminding her of their agreement.
“Did you know about the keys in the barn, the ones to Peterson’s motor?” Ted walked quickly over to his wife and towered above her. “Well?”
“No. I thought you kept them somewhere but exactly where I couldn’t say.” There was a long pause as Belinda’s complexion reddened.
“So how come I’m told that your DNA was on the keys? Yours, mine and Peterson’s. Funny that, if you didn’t know where they were. Have you been in that car?” He raised his voice and Belinda seemed to try and inch a little further away. She looked at Shakti and then Quinn before turning her gaze to her husband.
Quinn was the next to speak. “Remember the photograph removed from the wall at Peterson’s, the one you rang your wife about as you couldn’t remember certain names?”
“What’s that got to do with this?” Bostock turned. Spittle flew from his lips as his eyes narrowed. Quinn noticed his fist begin to clench.
“Funny how you couldn’t remember that your brother, Trevor, was one of the four.”
He quickly turned back to Belinda. “Just what have you been bloody saying?”
Chapter Fourteen
It would be nine thirty before Karl left the shop. He checked his watch, knowing Leonard would be coming later in the day and he had errands to run first. Jo had collected his order whilst he showered and they had kissed as he left the shop.
“Next week?” Jo asked as he left.
“Are you sure the door to the shop was ajar this morning?” Karl sounded guilty.
“It’s a good job it was a calm night otherwise the bell would have warned us. I’ve checked the main stock and nothing’s missing. You were worth the trouble.” She kissed him again.
It was only when she was serving her first customer that it was brought to her attention. The customer had spotted it on the floor to the left of the door. “Is this yours, dear?” the elderly customer had asked. She stooped uncomfortably to pick it up.
She placed the item onto the counter next to the RSPCA charity container. It appeared to be a photograph. Jo looked at it. Looks like someone has dropped it or it’s come through the letter box, she mumbled to herself as she adjusted her reading glasses. “Maybe this man with …” she paused looking closely at the people in the picture. On recognising one of the men she laughed. “If I’m not mistaken. What am I going to do with that man? Firstly, he leaves the door unlocked and then … drops this. Pity it wasn’t his wallet! I know who’s lost this. Thank you, I wouldn’t have seen it until I cleaned or the post was delivered.”
The customer smiled, collected her change and her purchase and left, the doorbell sounding its familiar ring.
Reaching for her phone, she dialled Karl’s mobile but it went to voice mail. She collected the photo and put it on the shelf below the counter top. She would call again later if he did not respond to her message.
Karl had left his phone in his jacket pocket as he was to prepare for Leonard’s visit. Having given a great deal of thought to a suitable birthday gift, he realised that both a spider and a snake would be too difficult to manage. He was also unsure as to whether his friend would handle the creatures appropriately when unsupervised. Although Leonard was compliant most of the time he was in the apartment, he had witnessed some disturbing outbursts when he was leaving and on one occasion when he had seen him in public. It was when looking at the fish at Jo’s that the idea had come to him. His conversation too with Penny had a strong bearing.
He checked the animals in his care, grabbed a biscuit and his paper before going down into the conservatory. Checking his watch, he had forty minutes to himself.
***
“When’s my birthday?” Leonard asked for the fourth time that morning.
“It’s on the 30th. We’ll have a cake and candles. We’ll take it to Karl and his friends. Would you like that, my precious boy?”
Leonard ran his finger along the calendar until it rested on the red cross marked in the square of the thirtieth. Penny came over, moved his finger to the day’s date and they counted together.
“One, two, three, four. Four days, three more sleeps.” Leonard hugged her and bounced up and down. He squeezed tightly until Penny felt as though she could not breathe.
“Stop now!” she gasped. “I can hardly breathe.” She looked up into his eyes and saw the same look she had witnessed in the past, when he was particularly cruel, a look that seemed to be coming more and more frequently.
“Say please, mummy, say please.” Leonard squeezed a little more and she felt her feet lift slightly off the floor.
Penny began to struggle and she grew angry. She slapped his legs with her trapped arms. “Stop this at once or there will be no visit today nor will there be cake and certainly no birthday. Stop now!” The final two words she screamed louder than she had ever shouted at her son before. It had an immediate result. He let her go and he ran to a corner of the room. Penny, thankful to be able to get her breath, grabbed the nearest chair and sat. Her legs felt weak. She began to cry. For the first time in all the years she felt as though she were losing her son. Maybe she was just getting too old to be his mother and his full-time carer. At times like these she loved him but she did not like him.
Leonard turned and saw Penny’s discomfort. He thrust his fingers into his mouth and he too began to cry, but he was unsure why. “Will I still see Karl, mummy?” was all he could repeatedly ask.
Penny looked up wiping the tears from her cheeks with her hands. “What do you say to mummy, young man?” her voice now calm, but still unsteady. She looked across at him. “Well, what do you say?”
“Please, like you should say.” She saw it in his eyes again and for the first time felt frightened of her own son.
***
Quinn and Shakti looked across the desk as Owen read through the notes they had taken whilst at the farm.
“So, the car was in exactly the same position as when it was taken?” He did not lift his head but carried on reading. “The keys, or should we say a set of keys, were in the barn and yet we have the original set in forensic storage. We can safely presume, if we should ever make presumptions in our line of work, that whoever took the vehicle brought it back, borrowed it for whatever purpose. We do, however, know that Peterson reported it missing but it was not located until it was discovered illegally parked and without tax or insurance on Albany Road. That was a good number of days after it was reported missing and there’s some uncertainty as to when it was actually taken as according to the Bostocks each thought Peterson had driven it away when they were out. If you check that day, you’ll also see that too was a Thursday. Are you seeing the connection I’m seeing?” Owe
n looked up at both his officers and smiled. “Once it was reported found, Peterson was notified and the car was moved. We know that this couldn’t have been him because he was dead by then.”
Quinn quickly raised a finger. “Belinda Bostock told Shakti that the day after the car went missing, a man came to the farm asking about Peterson’s whereabouts. She said he was looking around the barn area when she first noticed him. Smartly dressed, quite elderly but she thought he was police. It was the way he spoke, his dress and his shoes. Clean and shiny.”
“Not Flash, I hope,” Owen quipped, as both laughed at the thought. Cyril had always carried the nickname Flash. Many new officers believed it was because of his immaculate dress sense and highly polished shoes, but it had originated owing to his name. Originally, as a young copper, he was known as Gordon after the billionaire Gordon Bennett, famous for the races trophy. It did not take someone long to link Gordon with Flash Gordon and so the name Flash stuck. Even after working with Bennett for a number of years, Owen had never heard many call him that to his face and those that dared usually received the worst from his tongue.
“As you see, sir, this all came about after I mentioned that traces of her DNA were found on the keys that Peterson left hanging in the barn even though she had denied any knowledge of them being there. It blew up when Ted Bostock insisted on knowing how that could happen. Let’s say further tests will be taking place once the car is back at the forensic garage.” Quinn raised his eyebrows and smiled. “The games people play, sir!”
“So how did Bostock respond to that?” Owen asked, probably knowing the answer.
“It wasn’t pleasant but she mentioned that she’d also forgotten about a bloke who called, let’s say in the days after the car went missing. Bostock put two and two together and got six thinking that he too might have been, let’s say, enjoying his wife’s alleged hospitality.”
“So, where are we with them? And how come there was no mention of his brother when questioned about the photograph?” Owen closed the notes.
“According to Ted, he’s not heard from his brother for a number of years. Fell out over the inheritance. After all, we’re talking ten years’ age difference and it seems the sudden arrival of a younger brother caused upset from the start. Bostock even suggested that he probably drank himself to death!”
Owen, concerned by the brevity of the statement, looked up but Quinn continued. “He still maintains that he’d forgotten he was in the photograph and protested his innocence. He seemed relieved to direct the questioning away from himself onto his wife when the DNA was mentioned.”
Shakti swiftly continued the discussion. “I feel sorry for the woman if I’m honest. She’s coming in today to look through some photographs of possible suspects but we’ve also planned Efit-V, if she doesn’t identify anyone.”
Owen nodded. “Good. Owing to the potential links with animals and their welfare make sure you drag images of hunt saboteurs or the animal rights brigade. From recent experience you might find one of those capable of just about anything, even though the hunting of foxes by hounds has been banned since 2004.”
“The newspaper photograph Park sent will go live on the North Yorkshire Police website today and we’ve planned for media coverage. We’re also asking for witnesses in the area around Peterson’s and the farm in the days leading up to and following his murder. If, like they say, he was on foot someone might have some dash cam footage. A long shot, I know, as most is recycled if not saved for any specific reason. We need to track Hurst and Bostock’s brother even though he believes he’s dead.”
“What about this knife and butcher’s glove?” Owen turned the file round. It showed a clear image of the knife and the glove attached to the straw bale.
"With Forensics now. Neither knows how it got there. Bostock assured me it wasn’t there earlier in the day but then he can be a stranger to the truth when he wants to be. You’ll have noted the initials on the handle – BHB?”
“Bill Hurst?” Shakti offered. “No idea about the last letter unless he liked things in balance.”
“This is getting muddier the more we investigate. I could do with getting my backside on a lounger for a couple of weeks.”
“Marriage and honeymoon are you suggesting, sir?” Shakti giggled.
“On second thoughts let’s just grab a brew, I’m spitting feathers here. Let me know what you and Forensics discover and keep everything updated. And Shak, spend time with Belinda Bostock when she’s in. Woman to woman, she might just tell us more when he’s not about.”
***
It took Penny a while to decide whether to make her planned visit to the retirement home. She knew Leonard was not deserving after his episode that morning but something within her, something she would not describe as fear, more like uncertainty, brought about her change of mind. The walk had been without incident and she was relieved when they reached the conservatory. Karl stood and welcomed them both. As usual, Leonard needed the toilet and he happily went down the corridor giving her time to explain briefly what had occurred that morning. Although showing concern, Karl had smiled. “Leave him to me, Penny. You rest and recuperate. I’ll send tea and my paper in there. Some people are sitting in the garden, feel free to join them, you know most of them by now. We need to plan that birthday.” He leaned and kissed her cheek. For the first time that morning she felt cherished and cared for. Goodness, did she need it.
Her eyes were closed when Karl brought Leonard into the room. He put his finger to his lips but as before Penny was only resting. Leonard immediately came across to her and took her hand before looking at Karl, he then looked back at his mother. “Sorry for frightening you. I don’t know my own strength. Sorry. I promise not to do it again.” As soon as he had finished, he looked at Karl for his approval. Karl smiled and nodded.
“Sit there, Leonard. I want to plan something with your mum. You know what it’s about. We’re just going through to the other lounge. If you move from your chair, we’ll not be able to do what we hope to. I’ll be able to see you and you’ll be able to see me. Are you happy with that? We’ll then feed the bearded dragon, it’s your favourite of my pets, I know.”
Leonard sat, brought his fingers to his mouth and grinned before nodding. He was fascinated by the idea of releasing live insects into the vivarium and Karl had kindly allowed him to visit the room in his apartment where all three pets were kept. On the first occasion, he was spoiled for choice but soon settled for the dragon. It was the name. He would sing Puff the Magic Dragon over and over again as the reptile moved freely. Being diurnal meant that Leonard saw it active unlike the snake and the spider. It’s size and that of the vivarium had also made an impression. However, the dragon was the one pet Karl would not allow Leonard to touch.
***
Karl had not long entered his apartment when he heard his phone ring in the jacket hanging by the door. Fumbling to retrieve it from the inner pocket it stopped ringing. Four missed calls showed on the screen. All from Jo. He dialled.
“Love must be a wonderful thing to throw a man of mature age, a man of the world, into a spin. First not locking the door and then leaving a personal item behind.” He heard her chuckle.
“Sorry again for the door. You women hold us in your thrall. Now, what personal item?”
“It’s a small photograph of you in uniform and some others. One’s holding a snake. When was it taken?” She did not wait for a response. “I know your game – you’re hoping for a matinee performance, as you once called it.” It had amused her at the time and she chuckled again at her remark.
“Now that would be exciting but I have a job I must do this afternoon and tomorrow I’ll be away all day.”
“So, who’s in the picture?”
“You really don’t want to know, a right bunch of nutters. Surprised you spotted me ”
“It was the big snake.” She chuckled again.
“Very funny.”
Chapter Fifteen
Billy Hurst
sighed as he opened the door to the cottage and collected the mail that had built up. It was the usual leaflets and flyers apart from two letters. He had deliberately left his case in the hallway. His feet ached and he was tired. What he needed was to piss and then make tea. Coniston had been everything he had hoped for. The weather had been kind, he had enjoyed some trapping and some shooting. Laying the traps for the foxes had been easy. The farmer owning the cottage he had rented was only too pleased with the results.
Leaning back against the cabinet he checked the mail again, keeping what he believed to be important. The rest went in the bin. It was as the kettle was beginning to whistle that he saw the framed photograph propped up on the table. He did not immediately move towards it but lifted the kettle from the gas. Knowing the picture had definitely not been there when he had left, he felt a tingle run down his neck. He scanned the rest of the kitchen. His eyes stopped at the knife block. Two were missing. Listening carefully he heard nothing but the occasional bird call. He slid the largest knife remaining from the block and ran his thumb across the edge of the blade. It was sharp, a throwback to his apprenticeship as a butcher. The blades had certainly had some use and had been sharpened many, many times to the point where they had changed from their original shape. He glanced at the initials on the handle, BHB.
“Billy Humphrey Butchers, Chadderton Manchester. Not Hurst, but Humphrey.” The voice was light and nonthreatening, seeming to come from the lounge. “You mix and match those names to suit your present lifestyle I imagine. Don’t you get confused, Billy? You were never the sharpest tool in the box.”
Billy dropped the knife but quickly bent and retrieved it, his grip now stronger as if ready for a fight. He moved cautiously through to from where the sound had emanated.
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