Threadbare

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  On turning the corner of Cold Bath Road and Cold Bath Place, he saw the CSI van and a dark coloured car parked outside the shop. He paused; his heart suddenly began to pound. This was the last place he wanted to be. He moved slowly, looking carefully to see if he could spot Leonard or Jo. The police tape strung across the front of the shop made him even more anxious. A few people had gathered even though it was still early. Two of them, he assumed to be officers, were leaning against the car. Pausing again, he considered turning round and continuing his search. It was clear Leonard was not there. He needed to make a quick decision but then thought of Penny. He wiped his hands on his handkerchief and crossed towards the car. Introducing himself, he explained what had happened the previous day and his concerns for Leonard.

  “Is Jo, the owner here? She could tell me if she’s seen him,” Karl suggested.

  “Sorry, Jo, Ms Taylor isn’t. She needed some hospital treatment.” April could sense his genuine concern. “Are you alright? Did you know her well?”

  “We were partners I suppose you could say. Is she badly hurt?”

  “Concussion. She’ll be in for a day just to monitor the situation.”

  Once he had composed himself, Karl repeated the conversation he had recently had with Penny.

  “Is he a danger to others?” April questioned, turning to look at Cyril and then back at Karl. Cyril’s attention was suddenly sparked.

  “You have to put his behaviour into context. He’s a child in a man’s body. Imagine a six-foot tantrum when he can’t have his own way. His mother, Penny, has been growing more concerned about him and she’s been shaken a few times, physically I believe, but a mother’s love is very strong and the thought of his going into a home to receive specialist care is not even a consideration at the moment, although after this ...” He did not finish but seemed to change tack. “There’s another worry. He was shown a four-foot constrictor, a snake …”

  “Lilith?” April interrupted.

  “Yes.” A look of amazement appeared on Karl’s face as he looked at the two officers. “You know?”

  “And the point is, Mr?”

  “Sorry, Karl, Karl Leslie. I’m a friend and I’ve kept snakes for a number of years but nothing like the one they had in the shop, other than when I worked abroad. The snake, if handled incorrectly, if it gets stressed and anxious, will wrap for security. It will not be doing that to kill, you understand, purely in self-preservation. Most snakes will only attack when frightened. However, like all generalisations there are some exceptions where they are just aggressive and strike for no reason.”

  “And this one?” Cyril asked.

  “It’s a constrictor, it wraps.”

  “Wrap, you mean coils itself around a person and squeezes?”

  “Or a tree branch. A constrictor doesn’t asphyxiate as such, the pressure it exerts closes down the blood supply to key areas. Owing to its size, the real worry is if, in fact, he’s taken the snake and wrapped it near his neck, then it could kill him. Or if he’s let it go out of fear and someone else … You can see my point.”

  “Where was the snake in the shop?”

  “It was in the back room in the largest vivarium there is. Its name is scribbled on a piece of paper above it. It was being looked after for a client whilst he was away, I was told.”

  Cyril went to the shop door and spoke with one of the officers who immediately went to check. He returned. “The snake’s missing.” He did not need to speak to April as she was immediately onto control relaying the information for those searching for Leonard. The idea of the missing snake was, for the moment at least, to be kept quiet.

  April moved Karl into the privacy of the police car, took his details and instructed him they might need an extended interview later before letting him continue his search.

  Cyril looked at April. “We recently had deaths as a result of snake bites in Knaresborough, now the potential for another victim here in Harrogate and to cap it all, a different type of snake. And to think the adder was supposed to be the only snake in the UK that could harm you. You couldn’t make it up.”

  “Lilith, sir. The seductress, the killer of men. Who do we know with a name like that?”

  Cyril turned back to her. “Surely you’re not thinking …”

  “Not just the name but the link. Remember Adam’s two wives and the idea that Lilith was put into the story a thousand years later to introduce evil into the Garden of Eden, to justify the wicked behaviour of the sons of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel? If you transpose that idea with what’s going on at Bostock’s farm – one woman with two men, two brothers, in fact.”

  Cyril scratched his head. “Simple policing, that’s what we used to have and now … When they’ve finished,” he pointed to the CSI’s van, “I want any results immediately. I want DNA, I want the lot. There’s more to this than Bible stories. I don’t mind the odd coincidence but not when they’re fed to us like kippers on a plate. If we get this wrong that’s what we’ll look like in the eyes of the press and, therefore, to the general public.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Owen, Nixon and Smirthwaite arrived at the front of the cottage. The dirt track, dry and rutted, ran past the cottage and through to a large copse of trees a quarter of a mile beyond. It was evident that whoever lived there was allergic to gardening. A grey van was parked on a piece of ground to the right and that too seemed to have received the same care and attention as the garden. Owen sent Nixon round the back as Smirthwaite approached the door, then stood on the track, where he had a clear view of the upstairs windows. He nodded and Smirthwaite knocked on the door.

  Trevor Bostock stood, his back against the bough of an oak tree. He had enough of a view through the trees and bushes in front to observe the visitors to his cottage without being seen himself. A flush of nervousness ran through him but he remained immobile. During the jungle training in Belize he had felt a similar flush, a mix of excitement and fear; adrenalin, his sergeant major used to announce at the top of his voice, was the best free drug in the world. The more you got, the more you wanted. Like now, they were then training to escape and evade. Whoever these three were, his instincts told him he needed to stay well clear. To Bostock, this was not training, this was reality.

  Owen nodded again and Smirthwaite checked the door – it was locked. He moved to the mullioned window and peered in. The low-slung ceiling and dark wooden beams seemed to prevent the light of day from penetrating the far recesses. He shook his head. The upper rooms were no different. The curtains seemed partly drawn and there was a general air of neglect. Owen focused on each one to check for movement. There was none.

  Nixon called in the van’s registration number and waited for the response, ensuring his phone was on vibrate against his thigh. A ring tone now would be unprofessional. He too moved and checked the back door and then looked through the only window. The yellowing, nylon curtain suspended on a drooping wire made it impossible to see anything. He felt the phone. “Who?” He listened to the rest of the information. Hanging up he came around to Owen. “Van there is registered to Mrs Belinda Phinn and to this address. Insured third party, also to her. She must pay the utility bills. Expensive sex. Hope she gets her money’s worth.”

  “Other drivers?”

  “That’s the funny thing. The other named driver is Edward Bostock, that’s her husband, but according to Shakti’s report, he supposedly knew nothing about this place or the van. More importantly he was unaware that allegedly his sibling was back in the neighbourhood.”

  “I wonder if he knows where his driving licence is right at this moment. I bet I do, though. Seems he trusted his missus a great deal more than he should.”

  Bostock continued to watch. The activity at the front of the cottage caused him concern, particularly when all three went across and inspected the van.

  Within the hour Ted and Belinda Bostock were cautioned and driven to Harrogate Police Station.

  ***

  Karl only had a curs
ory glance as he walked along Cold Bath Place. There had been building development at the bottom of the road as it reached Back Harlow Moor Drive. There was now only one way you could go but Leonard would not know the road to be a cul-de-sac; he must have hoped it would take him to the park. Time, he needed time, and he needed to see Jo. Decision made, he would check the park’s perimeter and then get up to the hospital.

  Karl had looked through the foliage and called Leonard’s name a few times but felt foolish. He saw no one apart from the odd motorist. He walked towards the park entrance near Swan Road and called a taxi. Walking was out of the question; it would take at least thirty minutes and he had spent too long already.

  Within four minutes the taxi had arrived and he was making good progress until they reached Knaresborough Road. A car had broken down on the junction and he could feel his anxiety building.

  ***

  It had taken a degree of persuasion for the nurse to allow him five minutes with her but explaining the circumstances and reassuring them that he would only need ten minutes did the trick.

  Jo smiled when she saw him. “No flowers?” she giggled. “Only kidding.”

  Karl was relieved to see Jo looking better than he had expected. She was sitting in a small lounge just off the ward when he arrived. He sat with her, his hand in hers. “I have no grapes either, I’m afraid.” They both laughed. “I didn’t know what to think. Leonard is normally so placid but to be honest you can see he has a temper. I’ve tried to find him but he could be anywhere. I just hope he’s done nothing daft with the snake.”

  Karl bent and kissed her. “Sorry, I thought I was doing the right thing bringing him to yours. The wonder of the animal world. You know I like to spread the gospel as far as animal welfare is concerned.”

  “No sign of Leonard then? He was just so eager to see the bloody thing, that was the problem. If I were to be honest, Karl, I was taken aback seeing his squashed face at the window. It scared me at first until I realised who it was, and then to find him without his mum seemed strange. I had to let him in. I don’t think he meant to hurt me, he was just so excited.”

  “Penny has been concerned lately. She feels he’s changing, becoming less compliant and I’ve told her she needs to talk with Social Services or her GP. She’s not old but she’s not getting any younger either.”

  He saw Jo’s expression change. She too seemed to have felt sadness for Leonard’s predicament and believed the introduction of a pet might help both him and Penny. It was then that she rested her hand on Karl’s knee and sat up leaning towards him.

  “I’m hoping to be back home tomorrow and they’ve told me they have someone who knows small pets in the shop to check, feed and close up. Lilith’s owner is supposed to be coming in today or tomorrow to collect it. I’ve had it for five or six weeks and nothing happens and the day before he’s due to call it goes missing. If only he’d taken it when he popped in. He’ll be heartbroken, he told me it wasn’t his pet but his companion.”

  “I could inform him, Jo. Do you have a contact address?”

  “It’s at the shop. His name is Trevor, Trevor Phinn, but I can’t recall his address, sorry. I’ll have to do it when I get back in. If I think I have a headache now I’m sure I’ll have one when I need to make that call. He was, I believe, a good herpetologist.”

  “Trevor? Right. I could go and see if it’s still in the shop. Where did you keep his address?”

  “In the red book under the counter but you don’t need to, love, you’ve done enough.”

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “For you, anything. I’ll grab your mobile too and bring it in later. Bedside cabinet as usual?”

  “You know me too well.” She paused. “Remember when you left the door unlocked?”

  He nodded and sighed. “Will I ever be allowed to forget it? Yes!”

  “You dropped a photograph, or else if you didn’t someone pushed it through the letter box.” She immediately saw Karl’s expression change.

  “Photograph? On the floor of the shop?”

  “Yes, a customer found it. It’s just come to me when you said spread the gospel as far as animal welfare … I thought you’d dropped it as I recognised a very young you but it said on the back Tommy Goff. I thought that was the other chap pictured. You looked very dapper in uniform I have to say. Must have been the knock on the head that reminded me about it. I put it under the counter.” She smiled, but Karl’s demeanour had changed. The muscle in his leg tightened as he looked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The morning run so far had been easy for her, it was the warm and dry weather that made all the difference. Waking to rain had a tendency to kill her enthusiasm. The last three months had seen Ruth’s stamina level increase as her weight had dropped. She had started with what she would call her morning shuffle but steadily she had increased to a jog. She always ran the same route. That way she could judge her progress by the time she achieved. Being rather conscious of her weight she stuck to the park but not an area that was too isolated.

  She had entered the park by Ebor Rise, rounded the tennis courts before moving across the pathway towards The Sun Pavilion, her favourite part. Even at this hour the same dog walkers would pass and that was always reassuring. Keeping parallel with Cornwall Road, she would cross onto the lower path. She was then half way. It was as she followed the path, passing the model boating pool and entering the Japanese Garden that she paused. Something had caught her attention, leaning against some stones, the legs spread across the path at the other side of the ornamental pond.

  The sound of early morning traffic and the occasional bird call was all she could hear apart from her breathing. The man seemed to be asleep; a hat was on the grass close by his coat which was wrapped tightly around him, belted and twisted as if it were keeping him from moving further.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as if she dared not wake him. She moved closer. It was something about his hands, the way they fell to either side of him palms uppermost, and his shoes, they were dug into the dirt as if he had been struggling, that made her stomach quiver. “Hello,” she repeated more forcefully. There was still nothing. Bravely, she went to the small, wooden bridge and walked towards the figure, constantly hoping someone would come or the man would move. Keeping low and still fearful she might startle him if he were, as she suspected, a sleeping drunk, she touched his left hand. It was neither cold nor warm and this confused her. He did not move. As his hand was facing upwards, she felt the inner wrist, manoeuvring two fingers to locate a pulse. It did not feel as though there was a pulse but then she could never find her own. Taking off her Fitbit she slipped it around his wrist and watched. There was nothing. She looked up as the sound of pounding feet grew closer, another runner came into view. Standing, she waved him to stop.

  “I think he’s dead.” Her voice showed more control than she would have thought possible under the circumstances.

  Without hesitation the runner came and lifted back Leonard’s head. The eyes, partially open, stared blindly as his tongue lolled from the corner of his mouth. He then slumped to the side, his head hitting the pathway hard. “Jesus! Ring 999.” He took the phone from his sleeve and handed it to Ruth. Slipping off his light jacket he placed it over Leonard’s face and shoulders. Ruth began to cry and handed the phone back. Within minutes of the call being made, the runners moved away to a respectful distance and waited.

  ***

  Cyril knew that it would take at least twenty-four hours even with the new fast procedure for securing DNA tests but at least he had set the wheels in motion. Ted and Belinda had been kept separately since their arrival at the station, standard procedure with domestic issues. It was clear that neither was in the mood to talk to the other. Cyril had decided that Owen and April would question Belinda Bostock and he and Quinn, Ted. From the reports to date Ted might well be the innocent in all of this but Cyril had seen many cases where still waters ran far more deeply than they ap
peared to.

  Belinda fidgeted as she sat in the Interview Room. The officer on the door neither smiled nor spoke. The general sounds of people on the floor above were barely audible but could on occasion be heard. The door opening suddenly startled her. Owen tossed a file onto the table in front of her and grabbed both chairs opposite. He and April sat. He looked up and then back at the file. April started the digital recording giving details of date, time and people present. The formality brought beads of sweat to Belinda’s brow. She shuffled nervously on her seat but remained silent. She really seemed unsure as to what to say or how to act.

  “Trevor Bostock. Tell us what you know, the whens, the wheres and the hows. In other words, Mrs Bostock, from the beginning.” Owen spoke first but did not lift his head from the file. He could sense her anxiety – her dilemma.

  Belinda talked nervously at first, unsure if he meant from the first time they met, but as soon as she realised she was required to give the full history, she relaxed a little.

  “When I was courting Ted, I met him a few times. He was older, brash and not very nice. I knew there were always rows between him and his father to the extent that he left. I heard that he had joined up, but if he had we never saw him when he was on leave. I believe that his father paid him a monthly allowance to stay away and he lost all rights to the farm. Ted was different. He was always industrious and loved the farm, working alongside his father up until the old man passed away. We were married by then and his mum lived with us. That wasn’t easy. Never felt like we had a real marriage. Another set of eyes and ears in the place meant you were never really free. You couldn’t be spontaneous if you know what I mean, and at the beginning of a marriage you need that.”