A Cold Moon

by Mike Price

  “I’ve had some feedback on last night, from the Telegraph; they rated your performance as the best of the night; said you came across as an honest man, not like the rest of them.”

  Martin winced a little at this remark and felt a touch of guilt at the compliment.

  “That’s kind of them but it’s the man in the street that matters. We’ve got to get the message to them to stand any chance at all. Look, I’m just going to pop back to the apartment, Maddy’s going back to London and I want to see her before she leaves. I’ll be back to talk to you about tonight’s meeting.”

  “Fine, I’ll see you shortly then. I’ll get your notes typed up ready so you can go over them and make any alterations you think are needed.”

  Martin laughed, he knew if Tony had prepared the notes, they would be perfect, he really was a find.

  Maddy had stayed in bed for a lie in, when Martin had left earlier, but was now dressed and packed ready for the off. Martin had phoned to say he would only be a short time and be back straight away.

  “Thanks for waiting. I just wanted to say thanks for being with me last night. Tony says the paper phoned up, thought we were the best of the evening…”

  “Not we, darling, you were the best,” she interrupted him.

  “You know what I mean, we’re a team. Anyway, Tony also told me everyone he spoke to thought you were enchanting. You made a big impression and that’s important, the matrons of the parish like to see a happy couple.”

  He put his arms round and pulled her close.

  “I do love you,” he said, as he bent down and kissed her.

  She held the embrace for a few seconds and then moved away.

  “Are you coming back to London tonight?” she asked.

  “No, sorry, I’ve got a meeting arranged, but I will be tomorrow, and staying in London on Monday and Tuesday, then back here for the rest of the week. The week after I shall have to be here all week right up to and including Thursday, polling day, and I’ll be at the count most of the night. I think they are due to declare about two am, so I’ll sleep here and return home Friday… win or lose.” He laughed, in his heart of hearts, he did not really think he would win, but there was always at least one surprise every election, so it might just be him.

  “Right then I’ll be off, see you tomorrow, bye, darling.” She pecked him on the cheek, picked up her bag and walked to the door.

  Martin felt a sudden pang in his chest. He didn’t want her to go. After all that had happened over these last few weeks, he realised just how important she was to him.

  As she closed the door behind her, he promised himself that once the election was over, no matter what, he would pay more attention to her.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Will was up early. Julie had said the man who had called the day, before asking about the cigarette case, had said he would be over to see him this morning and he wanted to be up ready for him.

  They had talked about what to do late into the evening and finally Will had made up his mind; he would hand over the case to this Stan Kenton. As he had said to Julie, technically, it was lost property and should be returned to its rightful owner, the picture was irrelevant. There was no law to stop men having sex with other men and no law to say they couldn’t take pictures of themselves. He had wondered if he ought to just hand the case into the police, but if he was going to take that course of action, he should have done so when he first found it.

  Will, having recognised one of the men in the picture, could see why the man had employed a private detective to find the case; he would certainly not want the picture to get into the public domain. Not while he was fighting an election and especially as he was a married man.

  Will was convinced the best thing would be to return it to its proper owner via this man Kenton and, who knows, there might be a reward for its recovery, which would always come in useful. Having reached his decision, the sooner the man arrived the better; he had more important things on his mind, with the worry of his father’s illness.

  The morning seemed to drag by; Will could not concentrate on anything, not wanting to get involved in any of the jobs Julie had asked him to clear up, just in case Kenton came while he was in the middle of doing something. As the hours past, he got more and more frustrated. He was meeting his father to go to the match and would have to leave by noon at the latest, and still no sign of Kenton. In the end he gave up, assuming the man would be sure to arrive just after he left, he called Julie to tell her he was off.

  “Darling, I’ve got to go, otherwise Dad will wonder where I am, and start to worry and that’s the last thing he needs right now.”

  Julie came in from the kitchen and nodded her head in agreement.

  “What do you want me to do if he comes after you’ve gone?”

  “Tell him you didn’t know that I had it, I hadn’t told you. Ask him if there is a reward for its return. Whether there is or isn’t just let him take it. Then we can forget about the whole incident. You agree don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I don’t like the man, he scares me.”

  “Well, he won’t scare you if he gets what he wants, now will he?”

  “I suppose you’re right. Okay, of you go and give your dad my love.”

  Will gave her a quick kiss and dashed out to the car.

  Will had not stayed long after the match was over; just long enough to get his father back to his house. His father had looked tired, though he kept insisting he was fine. Will was worried and was relieved when his mother told him the appointment for the operation had come through. They were taking him in next Friday and he would be in for at least a week. That meant he would still be in hospital on Election Day, Thursday 6th of May. His father was a died in the wool Labour man and Will could not resist a smile knowing his father would not be able to vote, especially as Labour, according to the polls, needed every vote they could get.

  When Will opened the door, Julie came rushing out to meet him.

  “Now that’s what I call a welcome, have you missed me that much?” He laughed as he spoke, but suddenly the smile left his mouth, she looked worried. “What’s the matter? Did that bastard threaten you or anything?” His voice was angry now his happy mood gone.

  “No, no look at this.” She was holding a copy of that day’s Evening Telegraph. On the front page, there was a picture of a man and the headline read…

  ‘Man Found Stabbed in Medieval Spon End’

  The report went on to give the man’s name as Stan Kenton and that the police were pursuing their enquires, appealing for any witnesses, or anyone who had seen the man in the area between nine thirty on Friday evening and three am on Saturday morning. Julie was shaking.

  “That’s the man who came here asking about the cigarette case look, I kept his card. It’s the same man… Stan Kenton.”

  Will sat down, trying to take it all in. He read the report in detail but there was no mention of what he was doing in Coventry, or who he might have met.

  “Do you think we should contact the police?” Julie broke into his thoughts.

  “I don’t honestly know. They say here that they are looking for witnesses who may have seen him in the Spon End area of Coventry. I can’t see how his death has anything to do with us. I think we should just keep our council, at least for a couple of days anyway.”

  “But it’s odd that he should be murdered in Coventry when he lives in London. You don’t think the lad who stole the case in the first place murdered him do you?” she asked.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know, but what if the lad who stole the case is the one in the photograph? If he is, then maybe this Kenton fellow had threatened him and the boy killed him.”

  “Julie! You’re letting your imagination run away with you. I think we should wait and see what happens before we get ourselves embroiled in this.”

  Will’s head was spinning, just when he had decided to hand the case back and forget the whole incident had happene
d. He did not want to even think about the bloody cigarette case while he had his father’s illness on his mind.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ferguson was just taking his jacket off when Sam burst into his office.

  It had been three days since the murder and they did not seem to be making any progress. Ferguson had resigned himself to the fact this would be one of those cases that lasted for months and months. The only person who had contacted them in response to their appeal had been a barman at the Shakespeare Inn, who thought he recognised the picture as a man who he had served on Friday. He had remembered him because he had ordered Perrier water and that had been a first, in all his time as a barman. The man had left at closing time. Ferguson had noted that at least it moved the time of death to between eleven and three, but other than that, they were no further forward.

  Sam had not knocked before entering and Ferguson glowered at him.

  “Boss, I think we might have a breakthrough.” He could hardly hold back his excitement.

  “What is it?” Ferguson’s voice had a world-weary air to it. This had better be good, he thought. “Go on then, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “There’s a girl outside who says she recognises Kenton. Say’s he was in Jumping Jacks nightclub on Friday.”

  “Better bring her in then. Let’s have a word with her.”

  Sam left the office and returned a couple of minutes’ later, accompanied by an attractive young woman, looking rather nervous.

  “Please sit down, miss…?”

  “Dickson, Anne Dickson,” she answered.

  “Miss Dickson, thank you for coming in, can you tell me how you know Mr Kenton?” Ferguson had lowered his voice so that it took on a warm tone, which he hoped would make her feel more relaxed.

  “I didn’t know his name. I met him in Jumping Jacks on Friday. He seemed very polite; let me get served even though it was his turn. He asked me for a dance and we had three or four, but then my boyfriend came back and saw me dancing with your man.” She hesitated at this point not sure whether to continue.

  “Take your time, Miss Dickson; would you like a cup of tea?” Ferguson indicated to Sam to get the woman a drink.

  “Thank you, yes please, no sugar.”

  Sam returned with the tea and she sipped it before continuing.

  “Dan, my boyfriend, got angry and started swearing at Mr Kenton.” She paused again to take a sip of her tea.

  “Was there an argument?” Ferguson prompted her.

  “Not really, Mr Kenton was very reserved, he spoke quietly, telling Dan to behave and not be so stupid.”

  “And what did Dan say?”

  Her lip trembled as she looked into Fergusons eyes. “He threatened to bust his nose.”

  Ferguson looked across at Sam, who had been writing furiously during the conversation, and stroked his chin as he did so. “Interesting,” he said.

  “What did Kenton have to say to that?”

  “He told Dan’s friends to look after ‘Dumbo’ then walked away.”

  “I bet your boyfriend didn’t like that.” Ferguson gave a wry smile.

  “No, he was furious.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I don’t know. He told me to ‘fuck off’ and walked off to the bar. I was upset, so decided to go home, my two girlfriends shared a taxi with me.”

  “Do you live with Dan?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did he come home?”

  “He didn’t, I assume he stayed at one of his friends, he does that sometimes if he gets drunk.”

  Sam, as always, had sat there letting his boss do the talking, but was itching to say something and Ferguson realising it, nodded in his direction.

  “Is Dan a violent man?”

  “He’s a body builder and fancies himself as a hard man. I hate it but when he’s had drink in him, he does get into fights.”

  “Has he ever hit you?” Sam continued.

  “Once, but it was my fault. I’d been talking to this man and Dan didn’t like it. Took me outside and slapped me hard across the face, I had a bruise for ages.”

  “So it’s fair to say he’s a very jealous man, yes?”

  Ferguson could see where Sam was heading and was happy to let him continue.

  “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

  “Was your boyfriend drunk when this argument happened?”

  “Yes, he was, I’d hardly seen him all the time we were in the club, but I could tell he was well oiled.”

  “Did your boyfriend mention the incident when he returned next day?” Ferguson asked.

  “No and neither did I. I didn’t want to start another argument.”

  “Have you mentioned to Dan that you were coming here today?”

  The girl looked down as though ashamed.

  “No,” she said shaking her head."

  “Thank you, Miss Dickson, you have been most helpful. If you don’t mind going with my sergeant, he will get you to sign the statement you’ve just given and take your address in case we need to contact you again. Could you also give Sergeant Naylor details of where Dan works and also the names of his two friends?” Ferguson stood up and smiled kindly at the young woman; she looked frightened and he could understand why, he made a mental note to ask uniform to keep an eye on her house for the next few days.

  A short while later, Sam came back into Ferguson’s office.

  “Well, what do you think of that, sir?”

  “I think we need to have a word with Dan and the sooner the better. Take Jack with you, he sounds as though he might be a handful.”

  “Any trouble?” Ferguson asked when Sam returned an hour later.

  “No, sir, but he kept asking what did we want him for, came over all offended like,” Sam put on his most sarcastic voice, which drew a smile from Ferguson.

  “So he’s the injured party, is he? Let’s see what he has to say for himself. Have you told him anything?”

  “No, sir, just said we need to ask some questions to do with an enquiry we are investigating.”

  “Good. Bring him in here.”

  Dan Carter was indeed a big man and Ferguson could see straight away why Anne Dickson was scared of him.

  “Mr Carter, thank you for coming in to help our enquiries.” Ferguson wanted to make the man feel at ease hoping he would not be too guarded in his answers when questioned.

  “What’s it all about? Your man here has told me nothing.”

  Ferguson ignored his question.

  “Can you tell me, where you at Jumping Jacks nightclub last Friday?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Can you remember what time you left?”

  “Not really, I was a bit pissed, about one, I’m not sure. Look, what is this all about?”

  Again, Ferguson ignored his question.

  “Did you leave on your own or can someone confirm when you left?”

  “I left with a couple of mates of mine.”

  “Can you give me their names please?”

  “Pete Davies and John Lowry. I don’t understand, why are you asking all these questions? Am I being accused of something?” He was beginning to get annoyed and Ferguson did not want him to become defensive.

  “Mr Carter, we are just trying to establish the times of people leaving the club. You are amongst a number of people we are speaking to, who like you have volunteered their help.” He hoped he sounded sincere enough and watched the man relax a little in his chair. “How did you get home?”

  “We walked under the subway and flagged down a taxi that was returning to the city.”

  Ferguson gave Sam a look and pulled at his chin. If Dan was telling the truth, that meant he did not pass the alleyway where Kenton’s body was found so he would not have seen anything.

  “I see, well, I don’t think I need to detain you any longer. Thank you for coming in and helping. Oh, by the way, could you give my sergeant the phone numbers of your two friends so that we can cross them of our list o
f people at the club. It will save them coming in. Thank you for all your help.”

  Sam took Dan to his desk to take the numbers. Once they were out of the office, Ferguson rang the desk sergeant.

  “Ted, can you pop in here, I’ve got a young man with Sam, I want you to escort him out but do it slowly, think of something to delay him. We need to make a couple of phone calls before he does; so whatever you do don’t let him use his mobile.”

  Once Sam had handed Dan over to the desk sergeant, he rushed into Ferguson’s office.

  “One each?” he inquired as he handed a phone number to Ferguson.

  The two men each rang one of the friends of Dan Carter.

  When the calls were complete, Ferguson looked at Sam.

  “You go first.”

  “Pete Davies confirms almost word for word what Carter told us, not sure about the time, thought it might have been later. He asked what it was all about, but like Carter, never mentioned the murder. What about yours?”

  “Interesting, like your man confirms Carter’s version but, interestingly, says they walked down Spon Street heading towards the Belgrade Theatre where they picked up a taxi. Like the other two, never mentioned the killing. It’s odd, isn’t it, that not one of them has read a paper or heard the local news. It might be me, but he sounded nervous as though he had something to hide. I think we should get them in to make a statement. We’ve got those calls recorded haven’t we?”

  “Of course. When do you want to see them?”

  “The sooner the better; send Jack and Angela to pick them up… separately.”

  Sam left the office a little grin on his face. He had left Ferguson sitting at his desk pulling on his chin.

  Angela and Jack were given the task of taking the statements from the two men once they were back at the station. They had been kept apart and neither was aware that the other was there.

  Sam collected the statements and took them into Ferguson who quickly scanned them.