The Burning Man

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The Burning Man Page 18

by Edward Figg


  ‘I’ll make sure you’re informed,’ promised Turner.

  ‘The ironic thing to come out of this is that, three months after the crash, they moved 63 Training Squadron down to the Home Defence airfield at Bekesbourne near Canterbury.’

  ****

  Police Constable Andy Miller rubbed his eyes as Jill Richardson leaned over his shoulder and stared thoughtfully at the monitor saying, ‘Any luck?’

  ‘Nope. Not a thing. I’ve been sitting here all morning looking at these videos, and I haven’t seen a face I recognise.’.

  ‘You’d be surprised at the number of kids there are at the mall during a school day,’ said PC Alan Hobson, who was scanning a video on the monitor opposite. ‘They should be in school, not buggering around down there,’ he tut-tutted. ‘We’re going to end up with a generation of illiterates, and you see if we don’t.’

  ‘Jill. I’ve just had a thought. Do we by any chance have a list of the victim’s number plates?’ asked Luke Hollingsworth, swivelling his chair around to face her.

  ‘No, I only have Archer’s. Why? What have you got in mind?’ she asked.

  ‘Well we’ve been through most of the videos from inside the mall, and no one appears to have been following them. So maybe it’s happening outside in the car park?’ Let’s concentrate on that for a while, shall we? Pass me over the disc from Friday, will you please, Jill, and we’ll see if we can spot anyone tailing Mrs Archer. What time did she leave the store?’

  ‘She was on my disc,’ said Hobson. He checked his notes. She came out of the store at one forty-seven.’

  Hollingsworth slipped the disc from the carpark surveillance camera into the recorder and fast-forwarded it to the point he wanted, then let it run at the average speed.

  ****

  Carter stood looking out of his office window across to the park, waiting for Sergeant Marcia Kirby to shut the door and sit down before turning to her and saying, ‘I don’t like it, Marcia. It’s now five days since Eades was released and not so much as a peep out of him. I don’t think Martin Kelly is coming. It looks to me as if we may have to change our plans.’

  ‘He hasn’t left the farm for any length of time. He only left it once, and he did check in as instructed. His tracker’s still working. I checked that this morning. It showed him still at the farm,’ she said.

  ‘Marcia, I still don’t like it. Wouldn’t you come looking for two million quid’s worth of coke? I know I would. And tell me why Eades is so dammed co-operative? Two people dead. Under those circumstances, I’d be crapping myself, especially knowing a cold-blooded killer could be out there looking for me. Why isn’t he worried? Something’s not right Marcia. I can feel it.’ He turned back to the window and continued to stare out across the park. He stood there quietly, thinking, and watching as two joggers performing callisthenics. Marcia Kirby looked up, not saying a word.

  Coming to a decision, he spun around, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and started towards the door. ‘Come on Marcia.’

  She rose from the chair and quickly followed him out of the office. ‘Where are we going?’ she said, grabbing her shoulder bag from her desk as she passed.

  ‘I think it’s time we took another ride out to Chalk Lane Farm,’ he said, calling back over his shoulder. ‘I want to have another little chat with our Mr Eades.’

  As Carter reversed the Ford Mondeo out of the parking bay, he said, ‘We may have to revise our plans and call in that smug sod DCI Carver from Organised Crime. If Martin Kelly doesn’t come to us, then we may have to go to him. Go down to Compton Furniture and raid the place. Go in mob-handed.’

  ‘Won’t that be risky?’ she said, reaching over her shoulder for the seat belt. ‘Don’t forget, he’s got a surveillance camera at the entrance. If he sees us, he’d have time to scarper.’

  ‘Err, yes. Well, we could always try scaling the walls,’

  He drove off down towards the centre of the town. The weather had warmed, and the pavements on both sides were busy with shoppers, all out making the most of the afternoon sunshine. He stopped at the zebra crossing, letting an old lady walking a dog and dragging a wheeled shopping bag dawdle across.

  Once she was safely on the pavement, he drove on until he came to the roundabout, then steered the car smoothly out onto the dual carriageway and accelerated off towards the A 2. As he picked up speed, a black Toyota Corolla came up beside him in the other lane. For a while it kept pace.

  Carter glanced casually out through the side window at the other car. He could not see the face of the driver because of the baseball cap he was wearing but was sure it was the same man he’d seen in the park the day it rained. He eased up on the accelerator, allowing the other car to get in front. As the Toyota Corolla pulled away, Carter made a mental note of the number.

  The traffic on the A 2 was light, and they made it in good time. Some ten minutes after leaving the outskirts of town they were driving beneath the trees that overhung Chalk Lane. He slowed as he approached the farm. The first thing he noticed as they came through the tunnel, was that the big wrought iron gates at the end were not chained. They were wide open.

  ‘He must be out,’ Kirby said.

  ‘Get onto the control room and find out where he is,’ said Carter, driving out of the tunnel and heading up towards the house. As he came to a stop in the cobbled courtyard, Kirby took her mobile from her handbag and called control. While she was talking, Carter got out and strolled towards the house. Even after all this time, the smell of burnt timber still assailed his nostrils.

  A lone rabbit scurried across the yard and hid behind one of the woodpiles. High above their heads, a patrolling falcon glided on a current of warm air, making lazy circles in the sky. Unseen wood pigeons cooed softly from the trees.

  She hurried across to him. ‘They said his tracker is active, and he’s still here at the farm. He did check out and was due to return at six tonight. He hasn’t checked back in yet.’

  ‘He was told to keep those blasted gates firmly locked while at home,’ said Carter, his voice sounding annoyed.

  ‘Maybe he got back early and decided not to check in till later or just maybe forgot?’ said Kirby. ‘He has to be here somewhere.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s take a look around. If Eades’s tracker is here, then he can’t be too far away. Let’s check the house first.’

  They went over to the front door. Carter banged on it, calling out Eades’s name. Nothing! He pounded and called again. After a few moments, he lifted up the latch and pushed. The hinges squeaked as the heavy door swung open. He stepped inside, followed by Kirby. Again, he called out Eades’s name. Still no response.

  ‘He should have heard the car. I’ll check the outbuildings,’ said Carter. ‘You stay here.’

  Carter turned and walked back out of the door. He stood outside looking across the yard, then, making up his mind, strode purposely over to the barn and stopped at one of the sea containers that had been there the morning he’d arrived. Seeing no new ones had come, he walked on into the barn. The only thing missing was the body. Other than that, nothing had changed. It still had that smell of burnt flesh and timber. That smell would never go away. He looked up through the hole in the roof and up into the sky. The whole barn would have to be torn down and rebuilt.

  He came back out and passed the lean-to with the burnt-out tractor and made his way over to the pigsties. There was still no sign of Eades. All was quiet. He made his way over to the stables and pulled open one of the double doors and went inside. Eades’s Honda Civic had gone. He went past the empty stalls, stopping at each one to look in. Finding nothing, he came back out into the yard. Before heading back to the house, he went over to check on the walled door that opened out onto the field beyond. Finding the door was locked, he turned back and headed for the house.

  After searching upstairs, Marcia Kirby opened the door of the storage area beneath the stairs and was surprised to find the gun safe open, and the firearms missing. She pondered on
it for a few moments, then closed the door and walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen. She spotted it straight away. It was lying on the sideboard. It was Eades’s pocket tracker. At that moment, she heard the front door open, and Carter walked in.

  He’s not out there, and his car has gone. Just what the bloody hell is going on here?’ asked Carter.

  ‘I think you’re right — what you said earlier. There’s definitely something fishy going on with Eades. It doesn’t smell right. In fact, the more I think about it, the more it stinks. I just found his two guns are missing. The shotgun and the pistol. Somehow, I don’t think he’s gone duck shooting. No wonder control had him as still being here. Look.’ She pointed to the sideboard. ‘It’s his tracker. Might he have forgotten it or deliberately left it behind? The only option I can think of is that he’s taken the guns for protection. He may have left the tracker behind because he doesn’t want us to know where he’s gone.’

  ‘And the car’s not here,’ added Carter. ‘Why has he left his bloody tracker behind? As you say, Eades may just have forgotten it. Or then again,’ he said slowly, ‘maybe he has deliberately left it behind? We’ll have to wait for him to get back or get them to give you a call when he gets back, will you, Marcia? If he doesn’t come back, then give me a call.

  ‘Those guns worry me, Marcia. I don’t want him taking the law into his own hands. Remember what he said before about revenge for Ajmal Hakim. I don’t like it. I hope to high heaven that he hasn’t gone looking for Kelly. That’s the last thing we want — a vigilante. What’s he up too? Where is he?’ As if seeking the answer, he stood looking around the kitchen.

  ‘He could have just simply gone shopping,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. Armed to the bloody teeth. Somehow, I don’t think so. You said that Eades had only been out once? Find out what day it was and how long he was away. We’d better get an alert put out for his car. Tell them not to stop it. I want a sighting report. I’ll tell you what — give Dave Penrose a call. Ask him if he can check out Compton Furniture for us and Kelly’s cottage at Hawkinge — see if there’re any signs of his car there. Put him in the picture and warn him he could be armed.’

  Chapter 20

  Constable Andy Miller squinted at the images on the screen for the third time, and turning to Hobson, said, ‘I don’t know about you, Al, me old mate, but nothing leaps out at me. I’ve been through both mall cameras outside the shops, and the same face has not appeared twice. He pushed the button and ejected the disc. ‘Let’s see if any of the in-store stuff has got anything on them.

  He put in the next disc and forwarded it to the time slot, then sat back to watch. ‘I suppose you did check out all the store employees, Jill,’ said Hobson.

  She glared straight at him. The look said it all.

  He held both hands in the air as a gesture of surrender. ‘Okay. No need to look like that.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sorry, just thought I’d check.’ He turned back to his screen.

  ‘That’s the first thing we did,’ piped up Luke Hollingsworth from over the other side of the desk. ‘None of them have records. Mind you, that means nothing these days. We even thought that one of them might be passing on the sales information to a second person; we’ve no way of checking that out. We’ll only find that out when we nick the sod.’

  Miller leaned casually over to Hobson, who was sitting next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, ‘If we nick him.’

  Jill Richardson gave a soft whoop of delight. They all turned to her. She looked up from her monitor. ‘Yes. I think I’ve found him.’ She looked over to the others and said, ‘Find me all the security footage for Friday from the car park exit.’ Hobson scooped up the discs marked, “Main Exit”, and leaned across the desk and handed them to her. She ran her finger down the list of what time the items had been purchased, then pointed at the screen. ‘Look,’ she said.

  The other three got up and came over and stood next to her. ‘Here comes Mrs Archer, driving out.’ She stopped the recording. The images on the screen froze. ‘That’s her car.’ She pressed play and let it run on. The car disappeared off the screen. They watched as, a few seconds later, another car came into view. That also went out of shot. She slipped in another disc. ‘This is Armitage, the one who lost the lawn mower.’ She fast forwarded it to the time slot and then ran it at normal speed. They all watched as Armitage drove past the camera. A few moments later it was followed by another car. She again froze the image. ‘It’s the same car that followed Archer.’

  ‘Run the others,’ said Hollingsworth, leaning in to get a better view of the screen. ‘Let’s see if it’s on the others. He wrote the number down and handed it to Hobson. ‘Find out who that car belongs too. It’s a late Toyota Corolla.’

  Hobson glanced at the paper, then went across to an empty desk, sat down and switched on the computer. While he was away, they ran through the remaining discs. They found another three robbery victims, all of them followed by the same car.

  ‘Well that’s definitely our boy,’ said Andy Miller, taking the last of the printed images from the printer. He came over and laid them out on top of the desk. ‘Trouble is that the camera is at the wrong angle. We can’t see the driver’s full face. He’s wearing that baseball cap low over his eyes.’

  ‘Not a lot of help really,’ said Hollingsworth, after studying all the prints.

  A few minutes later, Hobson came back across the room. ‘The registration number belongs to a 2008 Toyota Hi-Ace. Its owner is, or should I say was, a Mr John Forest of Lincoln Drive, Ashford. He reported his plates stolen eight weeks ago. He was in this carpark when they went missing.’

  She turned and addressed Hobson. ‘I wonder,’ she mused. ‘What day where they reported stolen?’

  He walked back over to the other screen. ‘Friday morning’ he called out.

  ‘That ties it in nicely with the start of these robberies. Does it say what time?’ she asked.

  He bent down and looked at the screen. ‘He reported it 11:05,’ replied Hobson

  Richardson looked at the discs spread out before her. ‘A face would be good. What’re the chances of us catching him in the act of lifting those plates?’ She sat down and, sorting through the discs, found the one she wanted and popped it into the player.

  Anxious eyes scanned the screen for the Hi-Ace. ‘There. There it is.’ said

  Hollingsworth pointing at the screen. ‘Third row second one in.’ He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Richardson. ‘The plates are still on it,’ she said. ‘Good.’

  The time display in the top corner of the screen read 9:30 a.m. Richardson fast-forwarded it, watching images of cars entering and leaving the car park while shoppers streamed in and out of the mall’s entrance.

  ‘There — that guy, there. Slow it up,’ said Hobson, pointing. ‘What’s he up to?’ They watched as the figure walked along the row of parked cars stop behind the Hi-Ace, look around, then duck down.

  ‘Still can’t see his face properly. He’s got his cap pulled down. He’s deliberately hiding it. He knows the camera’s there,’ said Hollingsworth.

  After a short while, the man came around the front of the Hi-ace. As they watched, a car pulled into an empty parking bay, blocking their view of him.

  ‘Lost him,’ said PC Miller.

  ‘Where did he come from?’ asked Hobson. ‘Backtrack. Let’s see if we can pick him up on another camera.’

  She played it in reverse, watching as the man walked back all the way across the carpark and into the mall.

  ‘Pass me that other one will you, Luke?’ she said. ‘The one marked, “Main Hall”. He handed it to her and watched as she ran it.

  ‘There our man — that’s him,’ said Hollingsworth, in a raised, angry voice. ‘Run it frame by frame,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if we can get a better look at his face.’

  She did as he suggested and moved it frame by frame until his face showed up clearer. ‘There — that’s it. Much better.’ He stare
d hard at the screen. ‘He’s lifted his head. Anyone recognise him?’

  Everyone shook their head. ‘No,’ they all answered.

  Jill Richardson turned to Andy Miller. ‘Okay. Let’s get this printed and circulated. With a face that ugly, someone must know him. Good work. Well done, all.’ She rolled her shoulders several times then stood up. ‘I don’t know about you lot, but I could do with a coffee.’

  She got up and walked off in the direction of the kitchenette, leaving Miller to print the pictures.

  Carter finished reading the report and closed the folder. He got up from his chair, went to the open door and called Bill Turner over. As Turner stepped into the office, Carter returned to his chair. He slid the file across the desk to him. ‘Your pilot? Interesting outcome. Forensics and history all working together. A good result of yours, Bill. Should make good headlines. The press will certainly lap up this one. It’s a local interest story. This should keep them busy for a while. I’ll give Wally Short a call and get him to give you a buzz.’

  ‘Yes. Thanks, boss. That’s all I can do on that for now. I’ve sent the reports off to all the appropriate authorities. Now that we’ve got a much broader picture, they should be able to track down his relatives, fix up his records and get him buried. I think we can call it case closed?’

  Carter nodded. ‘All that time they had him listed as a deserter and there he was, lying at the bottom of the channel not a hundred feet away from where he crashed. Poor sod.’

  There was a knock on the door. Carter looked up to see Jill Richardson framed in the doorway.

  ‘Come in, Jill. We’ve about finished here.’ Turner picked up the file from the desk and walked out, leaving Richardson to take his place.

  ‘We’ve had a bit of a breakthrough with those burglaries, sir,’ she said, walking over to his desk. ‘We got a face, but at the moment, no name to go with it. The image isn’t good enough for facial recognition, so we’ve put it in general circulation. Someone might know him. We’ll have to wait and see if that brings up anything. We’ve picked him up on some of the surveillance cameras driving with the stolen plates. What he does is, he follows his victims home, then goes back later and nicks their stuff. We don’t know yet how he picks them. We can only assume that someone must be tipping him off because we’ve got him in the mall but not anywhere near the shops when the goods were purchased.’ She handed Carter the picture.

 

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