Threadbare

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  She remained motionless. Leonard stood and looked at her face. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” he whispered, determined to believe that she was only sleeping. He moved towards the back room, his concentration now fully focused on Lilly. “You sleep. I’ll look after the animals for you. It will make you better.”

  ***

  Cyril stood at the window. The venetian blinds tilted to allow him to look out onto Robert Street. The street light had automatically switched off fifteen minutes previously and the room was slowly becoming bathed in the gentle light of morning. A faint snuffle and the occasional snore made him turn to look at Julie. The duvet was tightly pulled to her neck but a leg dangled from the side of the bed. It was, she had assured him, her method of controlling her temperature.

  He inhaled the minty vapour of his electronic cigarette before sipping his coffee. His mind had been active most of the night, not only with the murders and the links between the dead, but also with Trevor Bostock, the missing person from the photograph. The longer he was missing, the more likely he would turn out to be the killer. He was also suffering from his copper’s nag, the knot that appeared in his stomach when something was not right – when they had missed something or considered it irrelevant. He needed to be at work, he was solving nothing here. He hastily showered, dressed and wrote a note for Julie. She would not need to return to work for another two days.

  Within the hour he was staring at the bronze figure of Liberty. He let his finger run around the base, the cool of the metal was soothing. Freedom, he whispered to himself. Freedom, Mr Bostock? Not if I have anything to do with it, before typing his password into his computer.

  ***

  Ted Bostock could not sleep either, the dry mouth and the pounding in his head had made any pattern of sleep difficult. He had stayed in the chair. Belinda had denied everything. Her words rang in his head but also rang true. He’s always been a troublemaker, a liar and a cheat. He caused all the rifts on this farm and now he returns out of the blue and you, like the soft sod that you can sometimes be, believe every damn word that he utters. She had a point. They had a good life here, they had enough to live well on, the home was theirs and they were cutting down on the farm work. People would give their eye-teeth to be in this position at their time of life. If he sold the farm he would be a very wealthy man. Belinda had mentioned this on a number of occasions. It seemed to always crop up when they were considering their wills. They had no kids and few relatives. Her argument of cruising and holidays and getting some money spent had very little appeal but he also knew that when they both passed away the farm would be sold and others would quickly fritter it away.

  He crossed the yard and the dogs made a few welcome yelps as they pushed themselves against the bars. He opened the gate and they sprang out trying to wrap themselves around his feet. Needing time alone, he stroked them before returning them to the kennel.

  The morning sun was ready to make its way into the barn as he swung open the door which groaned, protesting on rusty hinges. The sun’s light followed. The large space had its own familiar smell and that, for Ted, was comforting after the night he had just experienced. How could he possibly split from Belinda and sell what had been in the family for generations? If only he had been able to have children this dilemma would not have presented itself. Moving to the post where the glove and the knife had been left, he ran his fingers along the vertical mark made by the blade in the wood. He had given up wondering why the items had been left there.

  “She told you I was lying, causing trouble didn’t she, brother. Denied everything.”

  The voice from the hay loft startled him until he saw the legs dangling over the edge. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed as he stepped backwards.

  “Far from it. I’m a Bostock and not a particularly honourable one at that. Whatever happened to good morning?”

  Thin beams of light penetrated the holes and the cracks in the cladding, needling and illuminating the dark areas. Particles of dust floated aimlessly within the beams.

  Ted said nothing but stared at the boots dangling about ten feet above his head. All he wanted to do was to leap, grab and pull but he knew what the final result would be if he could have made such a move. All their sibling fights had always ended the same way. “The police would like to talk to you about Peterson and the other deaths we’ve read about in the papers. There’s a link and you’re part of that for some reason. You’re on the police website, I’m told. Missing, hiding. Did you kill them, Trevor? You’re capable of it, dad always said so after stopping you trying to kill me when we were kids. I remember his exact words to mum, He’ll kill someone someday our Trevor. Can’t control his aggression. See it when he deals with the flock.”

  “That’s why I joined the army. They trained you to kill but also gave you discipline. Strategy and planning, little brother, that’s what they gave me. I killed no one, not then and not now. It’s true about me and Belinda and what I said about her and Peterson but he’s no longer here to confirm it. Did your job when you bottled out. Couldn’t kill foxes and you couldn’t fuck, is how I see it. Peterson was up for both. Don’t know about the others who died. Maybe your lass got shut of them to stop them opening their mouths. You know how village gossip works.”

  Ted grabbed a pitch folk and swung it at the boots but missed by about a foot. He threw it down, removed his phone and dialled. “Let’s get the police here and get this thing sorted out once and for all. You’ve more to lose than me.”

  The barn went quiet but then the faint sound of a ring tone and someone speaking broke the silence. Trevor jumped, springing from the upper level, and landed just in front of his brother and within the same movement brought out his fist; one punch floored Ted. The phone instantly left his hand, tumbling through the air before it clattered along the dry cobbles. “Don’t you dare fucking move or I’ll fucking kill you!” He moved towards the phone and crushed it beneath his boot.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The sound of voices drifted in and out of Jo’s consciousness. Her body was stiff and her head pounded. Instinctively her hand went to the back of her head and she could feel the crusty covering of congealed blood. She looked at the transferred fluid on her fingers. Rolling onto her side she tried to stand but the room began to swim and circle before she felt the nausea rise. She stayed put for a moment in order to regain her composure. Her thoughts turned to Leonard and then Lilith. If he had taken the snake it was quite capable of killing him out of stress. She had to find it but first she had to get onto her feet, a task that was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. Had it not been for the early customer she was unsure as to how long she would have remained on the floor. Three attempts to right herself had proved unsuccessful.

  On seeing her, the customer had remained calm considering the pooled blood that was now spread after Jo’s attempts to get up off the floor.

  “Just get me to a chair, please,” she had whispered, her head pounding and a constant feeling of nausea flooding her body.

  She neither remembered the customer ringing the emergency services nor hearing the siren but she did recall the paramedic asking her for details of her next of kin. The concussion brought total confusion but she could say the names Leonard and Lilith before she was removed from the building once the police had arrived.

  ***

  Cyril had been drawing circles on the whiteboard in his room as Owen popped in carrying his mug and a bacon sandwich. A globule of brown sauce poised on the edge of the foil in which it was partly wrapped.

  “Morning, sir.” His mouth, full of partly masticated bread and bacon, ejected the odd morsel in Cyril’s direction. “Venn diagrams again?”

  “Do not enter my room with that otherwise it will turn into a crime scene. It’s leaching fluid of some description and it’s not going to land on my carpet. Leave it outside or eat the offending article and return.” Owen pulled a face, lifted the wrapper and spotted the leak, lapping it up with his tongu
e. Turning, he left immediately, meeting April en route.

  “Bloody hell! He’s back and marriage has done nothing for his morning persona.” He took another bite followed swiftly by a swig of tea.

  April watched as his jaw worked the food. “Attack at Bostock’s. Received a 999 call but only background conversation and sounds were recorded. Tracked to his mobile number and we’re working to get the exact location.” She handed him the tablet containing the recording.

  Owen stopped chewing momentarily, putting down the mug but forcing the remains of the sandwich into his mouth; he was going to listen, not speak. He tossed the screwed up foil towards the bin but it landed a good foot off target. April followed its trajectory and shook her head. The word men came to mind but she said nothing as Owen lifted the electronic tablet and listened.

  “Don’t you dare fucking move or I’ll fucking kill you, it sounds like but it’s faint.” April nodded. “What was that noise I heard at first?”

  “Not sure. But the latter is the phone hitting and skidding along a hard surface, probably the ground. We’ve sent a car to the farm and also authorised armed officers considering the connection with the three murders and the discovery of the knife and butcher’s glove.”

  “Has Flash heard this?”

  “Just going. Sent Quinn and Shakti out there just in case the threat was executed.”

  ***

  The paramedic’s estate left through the farm gate and the two firearm officers were climbing into their vehicle as Quinn approached. “All must be well, if they’ve gone before an ambulance has arrived,” he said to Shakti. He switched on his blue strobe lights momentarily, to signal police if they had not already recognised the vehicle. He pulled up by the marked police car. Lowering his window, he smiled and raised his eyebrows. “All good?”

  “We’ve given it all a three sixty and there’s nothing. Domestic but one offender’s gone. No firearms were stored on the farm which is unusual. It’s all yours, an officer’s inside.” He pointed to the other car.

  There was silence from the caged kennel. Quinn had a quick look to make sure that the dogs were not loose before leaving the car. Belinda Bostock appeared at the farm house door and beckoned them.

  “There’s an officer with him and those two with their guns and fancy clothes frightened the living daylights out of me. Ted’s in the chair. Trevor was here this morning, here last night too. Can I have a word with you, love?” She looked directly at Shakti. “The cat’s out of the bag as far as … you know what is concerned. Trevor spilled the beans, told Ted about our dalliances and told him about me and Peterson, although how he knew that is anyone’s guess.”

  Quinn approached a chair where the officer was tapping a statement onto an electronic tablet. Bostock looked the worse for wear. Bruising had coloured the left side of his face and a paramedic had dressed the cut on the back of his head. Both turned to look at Quinn.

  “Looks worse than it is.”

  “When we were kids, he did far worse,” Bostock muttered through a thick swollen lower lip. He kept raising a finger to see if it were still bleeding.

  Quinn addressed the officer. “Do we know where he is now?”

  “He appeared late last night. For all Mr Bostock here knows he might have stayed in the barn overnight.”

  “What about the dogs? They even bark at whispers.”

  “Quiet all night. In the kennel when I went out today. Seemed happy enough. They’d have let me know if we’d had a visitor, believe me.”

  “So, you’ve no idea where he might be staying?” Quinn watched as Ted tentatively shook his head. “Any other barns on this property, empty cottages, derelict or other?”

  “Top field barn, derelict roof but we keep an old caravan in there for early lambing, when the weather can be poor. I’ve not been up for a while, a month, maybe longer.”

  “Even with all the rustling?”

  “It’s well off the road. I’d have seen tracks.”

  Quinn moved away, brought up the map of the farm on his phone and began searching for the buildings; he selected the satellite image for clarity. He took it towards Bostock. “Where on here?”

  “Bloody hell, officer, I’ll need me lamps for that. They’re on the table.” He pointed to a pair of spectacles.

  “There. See, told you it was remote.”

  Quinn called it in. He wanted a drone and pilot there as soon as possible. It would be easy to check the building for heat and movement which would save a good deal of time. If he were there, they could enter; he did not want to scare him away.

  Belinda and Shakti nursed mugs of tea, it seemed to be the default setting whenever people were agitated; tea, a good brew, was the universal panacea. Belinda explained what had happened the previous evening. There were a number of protracted pauses as she collected her thoughts. To Shakti it was as if she were mentally shuffling the playing cards she had been dealt, but whichever way she looked she failed to find a winning hand. It was clear in her expression. Shakti had seen desperation and hopelessness before.

  “You knew he was here, Belinda, and you’ve been sheltering him. The question is, for how long?”

  “Too long or not long enough, depends where my mind is at the time. I saw him outside last night. Ted had finished the bottle of whisky and then decided to fall into a drunken stupor. I wasn’t sure if it was delayed reaction to the knock on his head or the booze but either way he was out cold. It was then I heard the dogs. Call it women’s intuition but I just knew who it was. The dogs recognised him too as they quickly went quiet. I looked out and there he was. Funny, but I was so pleased to see him. He helped me get Ted into the chair and put a blanket over him. We sat for a while and then he left.”

  “Where to?”

  There was another pause as she seemed to check her mental cards again.

  “Let’s have the truth. I know you’re worried about him with the murders that have been going on, and you know we’ve been looking for him because of the photograph but there’s more to it.”

  “As I look after the money, I managed to help him rent a small cottage under my maiden name, Phinn. He had nothing. He’s been back eight months. Before that, who knows where he was. Once he left the army he probably just roamed.”

  Shakti looked up, certain they were finally getting the truth. “I take it we have an address?”

  Belinda nodded.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It took exactly an hour and forty-three minutes before the report including the word Lilith appeared on April’s computer screen; a coincidence maybe, but the fact that it was a report generated in Harrogate brought a clear relevance – the HOLMES computer was doing its job – connecting vagaries from the multiple reports placed nationally onto the system every moment of the day. It had coincided with a frantic call received at Control from a worried parent about a missing son. However, at that time, there was no link and the latter had been directed to a different department.

  The connection with the word Lilith was, as far as Cyril was concerned, strong enough to warrant a personal visit to the shop. April’s knowledge and conviction that there was a definite link to the murders had convinced him to always keep an open mind. Besides, he did not want to drive his desk all day.

  On arrival, CSI were already checking the building. The RSPCA had been contacted to ensure the security and the safety of the animals in the shop until the owner could return. The initial hospital report suggested that would not be for at least another twenty-four hours. Cyril checked his watch, shook his wrist and checked again. It would be another forty minutes before they would be allowed inside. There was no damage and nobody had died but something nagged at Cyril. He needed to see for himself.

  Penny, after initially searching the area, had walked towards Karl’s apartment and the retirement home but there had been no sign of Leonard. All she could think was that at least he had had the sense to take his hat and coat; his name and address were stitched into the lining of both items of
clothing should he be found lost and anxious.

  The officer who had been assigned to speak with Jo at the hospital had reported that the person entering the shop was known to her and his name was Leonard Ross of St Mary’s Walk. The snake in question was named Lilith. That had been the vital link. Details about Leonard’s disability and his description were quickly posted on the North Yorkshire Missing Persons website and owing to the man’s vulnerability it was fast tracked to hit the television and local radio news immediately. A family liaison officer had been sent to support Penny and a recent photograph, one taken at his party the previous day, was issued with the reports. Jo kept protesting it to be an accident as she had opened the door to him and that he was only a child at heart.

  Karl had received the news directly from Penny on her return from her fruitless search and he immediately thought of Jo. He had telephoned the shop and her mobile phone, but in each case, had only connected with the answerphone. He knew that she would have been up early, she always was. He thought it best to see Penny first and once reassured that she was okay, they would go to the shop. As he prepared to leave his phone rang.

  “Karl, it’s Penny.” Her voice was tight and tearful. “I have a lovely police lady with me. They’re doing everything they can but I wondered if you could help find him? Check the garden at yours and then the shop. I know he wouldn’t go far. It’s the shop and the snake, call it a frightened mother’s intuition. He talked about it constantly when we got home. And Karl, don’t try to stop him physically if you find him, he’s very strong. Please let Jo know he’s about as I feel sure he intended to go there.” She started to lose control so swiftly thanked him and hung up.

  As requested, he checked the garden but there was no one apart from the gardener who was preparing to start his day’s work. Karl explained the situation and described Leonard. He insisted should he see anyone fitting that description during the morning to call him; he handed him his card. He took one last glimpse before stepping out of the grounds and onto the pavement. Instinctively he looked in both directions and then began to follow the same route they had taken together the previous day.