by Anita Waller
33
Wendy woke to a long string of emails and no headache. She plumped up her pillows, wedged the iPad into her duvet, and sifted through the responses. Most of them seemed to have come from the nightshift managers, and all of them were happy to help.
Before reading them she checked the ones who had replied against her list and saw there were still nine to reply. Then she digested the responses.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Wendy hammered on Doris’s bedroom door far too loudly in her eagerness to pass on news. ‘You awake, Lester? Can I come in?’
There was a groan and a muffled, ‘I am now,’ from the other side of the door.
Wendy opened the door slightly and peered around it. ‘Good morning. I have news.’
‘And I have a hangover. The two are incompatible at…’ Doris fumbled for her alarm clock and held it close to her face, ‘nine seventeen.’
Wendy crossed the room and sat in the armchair. She looked around. ‘Why is this room always tidy? Mine is a tip. I have to tidy it every morning.’
Doris’s eyes were almost open. ‘I have a team of fairies come in every night once I’m asleep…’
‘Stop being facetious. Listen, two of the taxi companies had cabs in the right areas on that night. They’ve sent times when we can meet up with the drivers to ask them about it, all they ask is we let them know if we’re going to see them, so they can prewarn them to hang about the office.’
Doris fought her way to a sitting up position in bed. ‘Awesome, Miss Marple. Whether anything comes of it or not, that’s a cracking job you’ve done, and definitely one I couldn’t have tackled. That’s the second time your taxi job has come up trumps. Two cabs in the right area, did you say?’
‘Yes, and both local to Hucknall. I did a blanket send to all my contacts, a kind of fishing expedition to see if anyone had covered any part of Hucknall and district on that night, not expecting any joy from the Sheffield firms, but these two are local.’
‘Okay, I’d better get up, then we’ll get the map out and see what’s what, and what time we’re meeting these drivers.’
‘You’re not thinking about passing this stuff on to our new friend, Grace, then?’
‘Maybe,’ Doris said, swinging her legs out of bed, ‘later.’
A quick cereal breakfast was eaten without enthusiasm, and they moved into the lounge where the map for the Hucknall area was laid out on the table. Doris printed off the two emails and they followed the information contained in them to locate pick-up and drop-off points for both taxis.
Several points on the map had already been highlighted in colour; red denoted the homes of Mark and Shirley, Dan and Rosie, Patrick, and Melanie. The point where Melanie had been pulled from the river was in green, as was the bridge where police believed she had been murdered. Trudy’s bed and breakfast place was in orange, as was Shirley’s new home at Rothery. The purple marks represented Global Systems, Kevin Vickers’ home, and Juliet Vickers’ current place of residence. A small yellow dot showed Imogen North’s home.
‘Colourful, isn’t it?’ Doris said. She selected a blue marker, and placed a dot where Springbrook School stood. ‘I think that’s everything on it. Now, where is the pick-up point for the first one?’
‘It says Hucknall Road.’ She leaned over the map. ‘It is a black cab, so it could have been hailed, rather than booked.’
‘Hucknall Road is a long road. Damn. What’s the drop-off point?’
‘Layby.’
‘Yep. That’s all it says. The charge was slightly over six pounds, so it’s not a long journey. We need to speak to these drivers, don’t we?’
‘We do. We’ll not put these on the map until we’ve got the full information. Can you notify the two companies that we’ll be there at the time they want us there? I’ll get us some photos to take with us.’
‘Photos?’
‘We’ll need the drivers to identify the passenger, really. I want pics of… let me see… Mark and Shirley, Rosie and Dan, Patrick, Kevin and Juliet Vickers, Imogen North, Trudy, and Ray Taylor. Can you think of anybody else in this woven tangled web?’
‘Only Megan.’ Wendy laughed. ‘And we have these pictures? Who’s Ray Taylor?’
‘Somebody the police have interviewed. Another of Melanie’s dalliances, it appears. Don’t ask any more questions on that one,’ Doris warned, ‘and definitely don’t mention his name to Grace, because we don’t know about him. We have some pictures already, but I can get the others either from the Global Systems website or from their Facebook profiles.’
‘Okay, I’ll leave you to sort that. I can send emails but anything else would baffle me,’ Wendy said. ‘You’re okay doing this?’
‘I am. Don’t forget this comes naturally to me. It’s my job, and okay I know I’m working a bit under the radar at the moment because I don’t have the official backing of Connection or even the support of Tessa and Hannah, but I do have other help. It keeps me young and functioning, Wendy,’ Doris added with a laugh. ‘Let’s have a cuppa while I’m printing these pictures off, and then we’ll go to meet our taxi drivers.’
The A5 pictures were placed in a small plastic envelope and Doris slipped them into her bag. They had been remarkably easy to acquire from social media posts, and the Global Systems website had pictures of all employees from Kevin Vickers down to his receptionist Imogen North. Juliet Vickers had clearly not been employed by the company, and Doris used Facebook as her portal to get a shot of her.
The timings for meeting the drivers were an hour apart, so they left home at two and drove to Nottingham, to the Sherwood Taxi Company.
Arriving early, they went into the taxi office where Doris left Wendy to catch up with the owner, a man she had known for some considerable time, and who answered to Ronnie. They started chatting the second they walked through the door, remembering shared acquaintances and talking in particular about a man who had recently died unexpectedly. Doris remained in the background as she listened to their enthusiastic chatter, and she watched as her friend came alive. This was Wendy’s territory, she had the knowledge in this office, and she would be the one to get the information from the driver when he walked through the door to meet them.
Doris felt her phone vibrate and she checked to see why. A message from Rosie.
Megan would like to visit you. Are you in tomorrow if we call? You appear to be her new superhero. Sorry.
Doris smiled and replied that indeed they were in, unless things changed at short notice, and would they like to come for lunch. The response was swift.
That’s put a smile on her face. 11.30 ok?
Doris returned a thumbs up, and slipped her phone back in her bag. Her attention went back to Wendy’s conversation, and she was currently chatting about road closures and the amount of time it added to journeys, which in turn added to the fare structure. It seemed passengers didn’t think it was their fault the roads were being repaired or dug up, and they didn’t see why they had to pay increased prices.
The conversation dropped into the background, and Doris waited patiently for the driver to appear.
His name was Walt Young, and Doris estimated he was in his mid-fifties, with light grey hair, thinning, and piercingly bright blue eyes. He smiled at them as he came through the door.
‘Sorry I’m late, Ronnie. Carbrook Road’s got three sets of roadworks traffic lights on it now. Ladies, you want to talk to me?’
Wendy held out her hand. ‘Walt, I’m Wendy. Used to work for Paynter’s in Sheffield before I retired.’
‘Know them well, Wendy,’ Walt said, returning the handshake. He turned to Doris, and held out his hand. ‘Walt.’
Doris stood and grasped the proffered hand, replying, ‘Doris. And thank you for taking time out to talk to us. We’ll not keep you long.’
She went into a fairly detailed explanation of what they needed to know, and Walt walked over to a large map on the wall. ‘Okay, I checked my facts last night after Ronnie told me you were popping in to se
e me, and this is where I picked her up.’ He pointed to a place on the map. Doris took out her phone and photographed where his finger was.
‘Her? It was definitely a woman?’
‘Oh aye,’ he said. ‘Skinny bit of a thing, pretty. She flagged me down, it wasn’t a telephone booking.’
‘Okay, Walt, we have some photographs. Can you look at them and tell me if any look like your passenger? Don’t worry if they don’t, this is a bit of a shot in the dark.’
‘You sound like the police,’ Walt said, a puzzled expression on his face.
‘I’m a private investigator,’ Doris explained, and handed him her card.
He looked at it, and then lifted his head. ‘I’ve heard of you. I’ve a mate lives in Eyam, Stefan Patmore.’
Doris laughed. ‘Such a small world. I know Stefan too. He did our business alterations when we needed to create an extra office. Lovely man.’
‘Sings your praises,’ Walt said. ‘Apparently you pay on time, which is a big bonus in the building trade.’
Doris took out the plastic wallet holding the pictures and she placed photographs of Rosie, Shirley, Imogen and Juliet on the table. ‘Take your time, Walt. It may be that your pick-up isn’t here. Really we’re on a ruling out mission, not necessarily a ruling in one.’
Walt stood by her side and looked at the pictures. There was no hesitation in his choice. ‘Definitely her,’ he said, tapping one, then walked back to the map on the wall. ‘I picked her up at this point here, in Calverton, after the roadworks. I went straight across at the roundabout, and dropped her at the far side. She paid in cash, and I went on to my next job.’
‘How do you remember?’ You must have lots of jobs every day, so how do you remember this one?’
‘She was crying. And I don’t normally work in the Hucknall area, but I’d picked up a fare in Newark who needed taking to Calverton which was the top side of the roadworks. He’d got out, paid me and I went straight through the green traffic lights, heading back to base, when she flagged me down almost immediately. She was heading in the direction I was going anyway, so it was definitely a bonus fare, but as I say, she sniffled all the way, and hardly said a word apart from I’ll tell you where to drop me, and thanks as she paid and got out. I pulled up to the roundabout and she said here so I told her I’d take her round the island and drop her immediately opposite. That was what I did, and she got out. Sorry I can’t help any further.’
‘You’ve been an enormous help, Walt. This will end up in police hands, so you may have to make a statement, but it’s nothing to worry about. You simply did your job.’
‘Who is she?’ Ronnie asked.
‘We can’t say,’ Doris said, ‘but I’m truly grateful you’ve given up your time like this.’
Doris and Wendy moved towards the door. ‘Expect a quick police response. We will be telling them within the hour.’ Doris flashed a quick smile, Wendy waved and blew a kiss and they left, heading towards their car.
‘Result or what?’ Wendy said.
Doris shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Why have we got two positive responses from your mass email drop? Why two, for heaven’s sake? It doesn’t make sense. Let’s go see this next driver, see if we feel enlightened after this visit.’
34
The second taxi office, with its neon sign telling the world that Star Taxis was in residence, proved to be much smarter than Sherwood Taxis, although equally accommodating to the two ladies.
‘Linc Starr,’ the owner said, ‘and this is my driver, Chunk Johnson. I’ll leave you to guess why he’s called Chunk.’
The driver grinned at them, and patted his well-rounded stomach. ‘My real name, my posh one, is Charles, but I’ve been Chunk for more years than I care to think about. What can I do to help you ladies?’
‘Okay,’ Wendy said, once more taking the initial lead. ‘I’m Wendy Lucas and this is my friend Doris Lester. I worked for Paynter’s for many many years which is how I knew who to contact for this big email shot. This is the result of a hunch that somebody’s telling lies, and we’re trying to sort it one way or another. Doris is a private investigator so is the brains. Doris?’
Doris handed over her business card to the men, who looked suitably impressed.
‘You’re not police then?’ Chunk asked.
‘No, but we will be speaking to them within the next hour with our findings. Chunk, can you tell us where you picked your fare up on that night?’
‘I can,’ and mirroring Walt Young’s actions, he walked across to the wall map. ‘I picked up in Westville,’ his finger tracked his route, ‘and dropped off here, a few yards beyond this bridge.’
Careful not to lead him, Doris took out the wallet of pictures. ‘Can I show you some photos, Chunk? I simply need to know if you recognise anyone in these who was your fare that night.’
He gave a slight nod, and walked back to the desk. Doris placed the printouts on the desk and stood back, allowing Chunk full access to them.
He looked through them twice then picked one up. ‘This one. No doubt at all.’
Doris turned to Wendy to make sure she was aware of which picture had been chosen, and then Doris gathered them up and put them back in the wallet.
‘Thank you so much, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘We’ll leave you to get back to your work now, but the police will be around to see you, I’m sure of it. I’m assuming cash was used for the fare?’
‘It was. It usually is when I’ve been flagged down, it’s the telephone bookings that are card or account.’
The women sat in the car for several minutes, Doris making some notes and Wendy staring out of the window. Doris finished her notetaking and turned to Wendy.
‘We’re not cooking tonight. Let’s go and eat, then I’ll ring Grace.’
‘Grace? It’s Doris Lester. Are you still at work?’
‘I am, but about to head off home. There’s only Harriet here, still thrashing out these alibis.’
‘Okay, about the alibis, we may have something for you. Do you want us to come to your office?’
There was a moment’s hesitation. ‘Doris, how have you got something for me?’
Doris laughed. ‘I have a best friend called Wendy who has superpowers. Don’t worry, Grace, I have done what we’ve done without any strange help.’
‘Can I bring Harriet if we come to yours? She’s been sulking all day because I’ve been to that little cottage without her.’
‘Of course. We’re not home yet, we’ve been for a meal but we should be home in about half an hour. Take care.’
Harriet and Grace were in animated discussion as they got out of the car, and Wendy opened the door to invite them in.
‘Welcome to my temporary home,’ she said with a smile. ‘Doris is taking some scones out of the oven, so I recommend you say yes to a cuppa, because her scones are to die for.’
They followed Wendy through to the kitchen, where Doris greeted them with a smile. ‘We should sit in here because we need the space. It’s easier than me moving everything off the dining table. Thank you for coming, DCI Stamford and DS Jameson, I’ll show you round the cottage later, if you’d like that.’
‘It’s Grace and Harriet.’
‘Okay. You know my rules, though…’
‘I know, but we’re both signed out and off duty now.’
Harriet snapped her mouth shut. Never in a million years would she have called her boss by her first name, but it seemed it was okay.
‘Harriet, I’ll explain. I reached an understanding with our two super-sleuths the other day. I want to be me, basically, and they’re to call me Grace and you Harriet, but Doris, in her professional life, would always call us by our official titles. Tonight it’s Grace, Harriet, Doris and Wendy. Okay?’
‘Yes, boss.’
Grace sighed. Sometimes it hardly seemed worth the effort…
They had scones, Harriet adding jam, Grace taking them with butter, following Doris and Wendy’s lead.
Wendy eve
ntually cleared everything away to the work surface by the fridge, then unrolled their map, coloured dots abounding.
‘This is pretty,’ Harriet said with a laugh. ‘You want a job?’
‘Got one,’ Wendy and Doris said in unison.
Grace put on her reading glasses and bent over to inspect the map.
‘There’s nothing on there, Grace, that you don’t know about,’ Doris said. ‘Not yet anyway. We’re about to add some luminous pink dots but thought it was easier to talk you through them.’ Doris slipped on her reading glasses. ‘Okay, yesterday we were discussing the case, and, like Harriet, recognised that somebody was lying, whether it be somebody giving the alibi, or somebody confirming it.’ She paused for a moment, keen to get everything in the right order.
‘The deduction,’ she said with a laugh, ‘was that nobody had a strong alibi. Any one of the suspects could have been out and about that night if they’d done it under cover of darkness, and by not telling anyone they were going out. So, Wendy here, superstar Wendy, said although cars didn’t appear to have been used because there was no CCTV of any sort, taxis could have been used.’
‘Cars haven’t shown up on CCTV because the camera covering the roundabout near the victim’s home isn’t working, and there isn’t one anywhere near the bridge. It’s a secluded spot,’ Grace said with a sigh.
It briefly occurred to Grace that in theory Doris couldn’t have known about the CCTV, but Tessa Marsden had warned her not to query the stuff Doris Lester knew.
‘And you checked taxi firms?’ Grace’s brow creased as she thought of the magnitude of such a job.
‘Wendy has a vast network of taxi firms and individual drivers virtually at the touch of a button in her phone,’ Doris said. ‘She worked for what seemed like hundreds of years for Paynter’s Taxis in Sheffield, so she narrowed her contacts down to around forty-five covering this area, and at this stage leaving Sheffield alone. We were prepared to extend if necessary. Nottingham, Newark and Hucknall itself were targeted, although we did think Hucknall was too close to home for any self-respecting murderer to consider.’