Hero series Box Set

by M A Comley

  “I think due to the stress Mrs. Daws was under, I’m willing to withdraw the complaint, sir.”

  Hero only just managed to prevent his mouth from falling open in shock. Julie’s willingness to drop the charges had come out of the blue and floored him. Mrs. Daws let out a relieved breath, and Hero sharply turned to look at her. “That’s very magnanimous of DS Shaw, wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Daws?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

  “I pronounce this interview terminated. If you think of anything at all in the coming days that will help us piece the puzzle together, Mrs. Daws, will you contact us right away?” Hero handed her a business card.

  “I will.”

  Julie turned off the tape while Hero saw Mrs. Daws and Mr. Boulten out. They stopped at the front desk to gather the woman’s personal effects before exiting the main door of the building.

  Walking up the stairs to the incident room, Julie caught up with Hero. “What do you think?”

  “About Daws? I’m not sure. I hate to admit it, but I think she’s telling the truth, at least with some of it. Don’t ask me which parts. It’s just an instinct.”

  Hero nodded, although he held back his reservations. “Let’s put her to one side for now and see where the rest of the evidence trail leads us. Jason and Lance should be back by now from questioning the old man. Maybe they’ll have something of relevance to share.”

  Chapter 9

  As it turned out, Jason was looking mighty pleased with himself when Hero and Julie joined the rest of the team in the incident room.

  “Looks promising. What did the old gent have to say, Jason?” Hero perched on the desk closest to Jason’s.

  “I took him photos of both Cathy and Stuart Daws—”

  “Hold back on the enthusiasm just a second, Jason. How did you get a picture of the wife, Cathy Daws? She doesn’t have a record, does she?”

  “Nope.” Jason smiled awkwardly. “I kind of used my initiative, sir.”

  “How exactly?”

  “When Daws came in earlier, her arrival was on the station’s security camera. I asked the desk sergeant if I could take a still photo from the footage.”

  “Clever. Some might call you a smartarse, but not I. Carry on?” Hero nodded approvingly at the youngster.

  Jason beamed with appreciation. “Anyway, I’m not sure what Mrs. Daws said during her interview, sir—”

  “She told Julie and me that she didn’t know Lomax. Go on. You’re going to tell me that she’s taken us for fools, aren’t you?” Hero said.

  “Well… I personally wouldn’t put it that way myself, sir. However, according to Mr. Wilson—that’s the man’s name—she has visited Lomax’s house on several occasions, with the other deceased victim, Stuart Daws.”

  Hero stood up and paced the area, running an angry hand through his short hair. “What the…? How in God’s name did I let her trick me like that? Right, from now on, we hit that woman with everything we’ve got. I couldn’t give a toss if she’s grieving or not. Perhaps she killed her husband, too.”

  “But, she has a trusted alibi, sir,” Julie pointed out from where she was seated at her desk.

  “So she says. Maybe she took a break around the time her husband was killed,” Hero said, walking over to the noticeboard to look at the clues and suspects he’d written down.

  Jason joined him at the board. “Are you thinking that Foster picked her up, and they carried out the crime together?”

  “I am. Let’s see how far the locations are. Work out the timings, the probabilities of her involvement, despite her saying she was on duty that night?”

  Jason rushed back to his desk. “On it, sir.”

  Hero was still running through the main players and clues when Jason returned a few minutes later. “I’d say we have an approximate time of thirty minutes for Cathy to get from one location to another. That’s not taking into consideration how long the actual crime took to commit.”

  Hero tutted and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “It’s not long enough, is it? Her boss would have noticed her missing during that time, surely?”

  “I think so, sir. Frustrating though that is.”

  “But the person getting out of that vehicle did appear to be female, yes? Let’s have another look at the footage just to make sure. It could have been a short man, I suppose, thinking about it.”

  They evaluated the footage again and came to the same conclusion that the movements likely belonged to a woman rather than a man. The question was how could he tie Cathy Daws to her husband’s murder? Hero clicked his fingers. “Apart from getting a warrant to search Cathy’s house, which we can’t obtain without just cause, the only thing left open to us is to do a thorough search of the area. Yes, I know SOCO will be doing that close to the scene.” Hero tapped the image on the monitor. “But we need to be searching in this area here. It’s a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, the murderer dropped something as they got out of the vehicle. Jason? Do you fancy going to the scene for a couple of hours? Take Lance with you, eh?”

  Lance groaned when Hero mentioned his name. Without turning around to face him, Hero called out, “Something wrong, Powell?”

  After clearing his throat Lance shouted back, “No, sir. Everything is tickety boo with me.”

  “Good, glad to hear it.” Hero clapped his hands, urging his team to get a move on. “Julie, fancy a ride out to Foster’s flat?”

  “But he’s on the missing list, sir. I doubt that he’s likely to turn up there, knowing we’re after him.”

  “Well, let’s go round there anyway. I want to see what the neighbours have to say about things. Jason’s already come up trumps with Lomax’s neighbour. Perhaps we can slot another piece into the puzzle with Foster’s neighbours. Come on. While I’m explaining it to you, we could be out there. We’re wasting time around here.”

  Julie followed him downstairs and out to the car, dragging her feet a little. Hero chose to ignore her obvious sulking and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel until she jumped in the passenger seat. Their journey to Foster’s flat was silent.

  When they reached their destination, Hero turned to Julie. “Let’s have it. What’s your problem with the task, Julie?”

  “I just think it’ll turn out to be a waste of time, and we could be doing something useful instead.” Julie stared straight ahead at the row of shops below the flat they had come to visit.

  “Such as? You tell me where and what else we could be doing right now, and I’ll happily change direction on this case. I suspect Foster called me, remember? That reeks of a guilty conscience when suspects do that. You know how these things go, right?”

  Julie fidgeted in her seat and thought over what he’d said. Eventually, she looked his way, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “All right, maybe there isn’t anything else to go on right at this minute…”

  “Precisely, Sergeant. Since when am I in the habit of wasting my time? If there were any other leads to go with right now, I’d be following them up in a shot, agreed?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry to doubt your decisions. Can we get in there now?” Julie opened the door and got out of the car before Hero could respond.

  He was willing to accept she had other, more important things on her plate and was prepared to give her some slack because of the personal burden she was lugging around with her, but not for much longer. Granted, his partner rarely did cartwheels of joy when she worked alongside him, but depending on how the next few hours panned out and if Julie’s attitude didn’t improve, he would be forced to consider her position, at least until her personal life changed.

  Hero locked the car and looked up at the flat. “I should have checked before. Have you got copies of the photos of the Daws?”

  Julie searched her large handbag, pulled out a file, and nodded as she handed it to him. “Of course.”

  “Great stuff. Let’s split up when we get up there, okay? We’ll try Foster’s flat first, though.”

  The stair
well was full of the usual graffiti, attacking the police and the government, found in rundown estates. Hero was thankful there weren’t any signs of the typical smells and other disgusting traces of human bodily functions that they normally stumbled across.

  Hero knocked on the door to the flat. After receiving no reply, he crouched and looked through the letterbox to determine if there was movement inside. “Mr. Foster, it’s the police,” he shouted. “If you’re in there, open up.”

  The security chain on the next-door neighbour’s front door banged against the wood. The door creaked open, and a little old lady’s voice called out, “He’s not there.”

  Hero straightened up and walked over to the woman’s door. He flashed his warrant card and smiled. “When was the last time you saw him, Mrs…?”

  “Taylor.” Seeming more secure with the knowledge that she was dealing with the police, the woman opened the door a bit wider.

  “Do you mind if we come in for a quick chat, Mrs. Taylor?”

  “Well, the place is in a mess. The home help woman hasn’t turned up again. That’s the second time in as many weeks. They all need to be given the boot. Most of them are bloody foreigners who speak crappy English when they’re here. I used to love it when Maud was my appointed home help. We’d have a natter for hours, while she carried out her duties, of course. Sorry, I’m rambling. Come in.”

  Hero and Julie followed the woman through to a small lounge cluttered with old furniture. Lying on one of the old tapestry-covered chairs was a cat curled up into a tight ball. “Shoo, Charlie. Let the nice man sit down.”

  “Don’t bother on my count. I spend most of my time sitting behind a desk anyway. It’ll do me good to stand for a while.”

  The cat woke, gave Hero a sleepy, cursory glance, and promptly fell asleep again. Julie stood beside Hero, also turning down the seat the old woman offered. Mrs. Taylor eased her heavy frame into the sofa beside the gas fire, which was throwing out just enough heat to take the chill off the room.

  “Getting back to Mr. Foster, when was the last time you saw him?” Hero asked, nodding at Julie and gesturing for her to take notes.

  “It’s hard to say. Maybe a week ago. I’ve heard him in the flat since then, of course, but haven’t laid eyes on him as such.”

  “In that case, can you tell us when was the last time you heard him in the flat?”

  “It has to be a few days now, maybe the weekend. I haven’t really thought about it, not until now. What’s the problem? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “Maybe. At this point, his name has cropped up in connection with a few crimes we’re investigating. We’re keen to talk to him, if only to eliminate him from our enquiries.”

  “Ah, I see.” The woman took a sip from the mug sitting on the side table next to her. “It’s a bit cold now. Would you like a drink of something while you’re here?”

  Hero raised a hand. “No thanks, Mrs. Taylor. I wondered if you could tell me if you’ve heard Foster receive any visitors lately? Perhaps in the last couple of weeks?”

  “I hear all sorts coming from there all the time, what with the blasted walls being paper thin. These old flats could do with being pulled down, but there’s little chance of that happening. Not enough housing for folks like me around these parts anyway, is there?”

  “I’m sorry you have to live with such an inconvenience. Perhaps the council will sort you out a new place soon.”

  “They might consider it, if the likes of you put in a good word for me?” The woman’s chubby cheeks flushed a little when she smiled and aimed a cheeky wink at Hero.

  Not again! “If only I had such clout. Sadly, I don’t. I’m a mere DI who rarely gets listened to by authority on such important life-changing matters. So, can you tell us if Foster has had any visitors lately?”

  “A woman was here last week. Don’t go asking me what day it was, because when you get to my age, one day goes into the next. I tend to live for the day my pension comes round. All the other days simply pass me by.”

  “I take it pension day is on a Thursday?”

  “That’s right, dear. I see what you did there, very clever. Yes, I remember I heard raised voices coming from next door on Friday night, I believe it was. Does that help any?” She smiled at him again, pleased with the spark of memory she’d just shaken free.

  “Excellent. If I showed you a photo of a woman we think might have visited Foster in the past, would that help?”

  “Only if I was outside when she arrived at his place. As you can see, I haven’t got any windows at the front of the flat, only at the back, and that ain’t a pretty sight, either. The only reason I knew you were out there today was because I heard you knock on his door and call out his name. Oh, and the fact that you announced you were the police. I wouldn’t have opened the door if I hadn’t heard that. You never know who’s likely to bump you on the head nowadays, do you?”

  “It’s better to be safe, that’s for sure, Mrs. Taylor. Now, what do you think of this?” Hero held out the ten-by-eight photograph of Cathy Daws.

  The woman looked at the picture from all angles. “I wouldn’t like to say, really. I suppose she looks like a woman I saw knocking on his door about a month ago. Not sure, though. That day, I had just come back from the shop down below, probably been out for a pint of milk. That’s the only thing I tend to buy downstairs. Run by Indians, it is, and they take advantage of us old folks. Every month, my daughter pops by to take me shopping at that big Tesco on the edge of town. Oops… sorry. I’m off again, ain’t I? Don’t be afraid to tell me to shut up. I get very few visitors, you see. It’s nice to have a bit of company now and again. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea?”

  “I understand, and no, thank you. You’re very kind. Well, that’s promising that you think you’ve seen this person here. It contradicts what the woman has already intimated. So you’ve done well there. What about men? Does he get many male visitors? Do you know?”

  “Let me think… maybe one or two over the last month or so.”

  Hero handed the woman the photo of Stuart Daws. She went through the same ritual of studying the picture from different angles before she shook her head. “Sorry, can’t say I recognise that one.”

  “Not to worry. This is the last one, then we’ll get out of your hair.” He passed her Lomax’s photo.

  Mrs. Taylor recognised the man immediately. She started waving the photo around then stabbed at it with her gnarled arthritic finger. “Yes, now this one I’m sure about. I think he was here awhile back.”

  Hero glanced at Julie, his eyes widening with expectation. “How long? A week, two weeks, a month even?”

  “Oh, now that, I’m a bit fuzzy about. Maybe a good month or so, I would imagine. Why? What’s he done? What have they both been up to? I’m dying to know?”

  “Again, that’s really helpful. Honestly, it’s pure speculation right now.”

  “Hey, if I’ve got murderers hanging around here or something like that, I think I have a right to know.”

  Hero cringed. He really didn’t want to scare the old woman. However, he did think she had a right to know if she was in any immediate danger. “I don’t want to worry you. At this moment, your neighbour is just wanted for questioning in a robbery case and a suspicious death.”

  The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Bloody hell, I was only joking about the murderer thing. Right, the second you leave I’m going to get onto that bloomin’ council and demand a move. How am I supposed to sleep at night now, knowing that I could be living next door to a bloody murderer? Good heavens above, my Bert would be doing somersaults in his grave if he thought I was in mortal danger like that.”

  “Honestly, Mrs. Taylor, I think you’re overreacting. We’ve got several teams on the lookout for Foster. I doubt very much he’ll come back here anytime soon. Hopefully, we’ll pick him up before long. Perhaps you should consider staying with your daughter for the next week or so. What do you think?”

  The woman
looked around the room. “I know this doesn’t look much to you, but it’s all I’ve got. This is my home, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be driven from it, under any circumstances. I’ll be fine here, providing you lot do your job correctly and catch the bastard. Anyway, me and the son-in-law don’t exactly get on. I’d only be in the way if I stayed with them. It would only pile added stress on their already-stressful marriage.”

  “I totally understand. You have my word we’ll do all we can to protect you. Be sure to keep your door locked and bolted at all times, and if someone should knock on your door, get them to post their ID through the letterbox for you to see, all right?”

  Mrs. Taylor stood up to show them to the front door. “Now there’s no need to preach, sonny. I’ve lived, without incident, by myself for five years now. I’ll be fine, I hope,” she quietly added the final two words as an afterthought.

  “Thanks for helping today. Stay safe. We’ll do all we can to help you on that front, too.” Hero smiled, then he and Julie walked out of the flat.

  “Shall we keep trying?” Julie asked. “There are a few more flats to consider. Any visitors Foster had would need to pass them to get to his.”

  “Yep, let’s split up. You go that way, and I’ll try this one here.”

  Julie knocked on the door to the left of Foster’s flat, but there was no answer. Hero received the same result on the next two doors he tried. In the end, they gave up and returned to the station.

  Stan Foster’s heart pounded as he watched the two suited people he presumed were detectives leave his building. Damn, that rules out trying to get back into the flat for a change of clothes anytime soon. He sniffed his underarm and recoiled at the smell. He hadn’t washed or changed clothes in days. Normally, that wouldn’t bother him, but the fact that the awkward situation he found himself in was making him sweat more than usual made his need to change clothes all the more urgent.

  He shielded himself behind the industrial-sized metal wheelie bins and waited until the detectives’ car passed before he took out his phone and placed the call. Had he been right to ring the detective like that? Had they traced his call? What other reason would the police have to come here and see me?