No Holds Barred (31 page)

On the bed, Dek stirred.

‘RSPCA,' he murmured weakly.

‘Thought it might be,' Daniel said. ‘How do you feel?'

‘About a hundred and two.' The rough edge had slipped from Dek's voice.

‘Is there anyone we should call?'

‘The number's on my phone. Nurse put it somewhere.'

‘I'll find it. What name am I looking for?'

‘Dad.' Dek managed a faint smile. ‘He's not really. Name's Lou Danvers. You have to say, “I'm ringing about the red canary.” He'll get things moving.'

‘I didn't know you could get red canaries,' William commented.

‘You can't,' Daniel said shortly. ‘That's the point.' Then to Dek, ‘I think Taz and I owe you a huge thank you for that night at the cottage.'

‘Almost blew my cover,' Dek muttered. ‘Good job the old guy turned up.'

‘You've lost me again,' William complained.

‘Taylor paid me a visit at the cottage in the middle of the night, with the aim of persuading me to go home,' Daniel explained. ‘They trapped Taz in a net, and I imagine Dek was supposed to finish him off while Taylor and his mate delivered a warning off to me, but old Woodsmoke, the poacher, put a crimp in their plans. Afterwards, he told me that the guy he took the dog from seemed glad to give him up, and at first I thought it might have been Dean – the young lad from work, but he swore he hadn't been there. Turns out it was Dek, so I owe him, big time.'

‘Nearly blew it with Taylor, that did,' Dek said. ‘So I take it the camera at the Boyds' place was yours. Fine way to repay me.'

‘Yeah, sorry about that. I did my best to make up for it.'

Dek nodded and closed his eyes. ‘Guess we're quits, then.'

The nurse twitched the curtain aside and came back in, her experienced eyes flickering over the monitors and checking the progress of the transfusions. She turned to the visitors.

‘I'm sorry, you'll have to leave now. Mr Edwards needs to be kept quiet until he goes to theatre.'

With an effort, Dek opened his eyes once more. ‘Can Daniel have my phone, nurse? I need him to phone someone for me.'

The nurse looked Daniel and William up and down as if assessing whether they were fit to be entrusted with the responsibility, and Daniel smiled encouragingly.

‘I suppose it's all right,' she said grudgingly, and found the mobile before practically shooing them from the cubicle.

When Daniel spoke to him, he found Dek's boss, Lou Danvers, to be decisive and efficient. He said he would make the call to initiate a police search but was, however, of the same opinion as Daniel; namely, that the Boyds would have been quick to cover their tracks and there would by now be nothing incriminating to be found at the salvage yard.

‘So they get away with it?' William exclaimed indignantly, when Daniel relayed this piece of information.

‘Not if I can help it,' Daniel said. ‘But they'll be on their guard now, which'll make the job a whole lot harder.'

‘Pity we didn't get any decent camera footage before it all kicked off,' William said despondently.

Daniel looked at him sharply.

‘Camera footage. I wonder  . . . The CCTV at the yard was running the whole time; it might have caught something. Let's just hope it's recorded and not just on a loop. William – you're a genius!'

Taking Dek's phone from his pocket, he called Lou Danvers once again.

Two days later, on the Sunday morning, an assortment of people were gathered in the kitchen at Maidstone Farm. It had started with a phone call to Daniel from Lou Danvers, just after nine o'clock, asking if they could talk.

‘A debriefing?' Daniel queried with amusement.

‘Something like that.'

Daniel suggested they meet at the farm, as he was on his way there anyway, and as William had been such a big part of the whole business, he felt it only fair that he should come along.

The three older kids were in the kitchen when they arrived but departed almost immediately for the stables and promised rides. Daniel watched Drew running out with Harry and Lucy, and was struck once again by how much he'd come out of himself. He was behaving like a child for the first time in a long while, and it served to highlight how sober and withdrawn he had become since Daniel and Amanda's break-up.

Jenny filled the kettle and stood it on the Aga to heat.

‘Oh, Daniel, this came for you yesterday,' she said, picking up a smallish padded envelope and handing it to him.

Daniel turned it over in his hands, mystified. His first thought that it was divorce paperwork from Amanda or her solicitor was quickly proven wrong. The envelope contained something solid and he didn't recognize the writing, which was in black felt-tip, large and rather childish.

Slitting the end with a sharp knife, he tipped a mobile phone and a folded piece of notepaper out on to the table. Unfolding the note he read,
Hope this helps but I won't testify!
It was written in the same felt-tip and initialled,
MF
.

‘Well, well,' Daniel murmured.

‘Whose is that?' William wanted to know.

‘I'm about to find out, but I'm hoping it may once have belonged to Taylor Boyd.' Daniel switched the handset on and scrolled through its phonebook memory. ‘Bingo!' he said with quiet triumph.

‘So, who sent it?'

‘Mal Fletcher. He used to work here.'

‘Mal? Why on earth would he have Taylor's phone?' Jenny asked.

‘I presume he either found or nicked it,' Daniel replied. ‘It doesn't really matter. What does matter is that it has an extensive list of contacts stored on it that make very interesting reading.'

‘Like who?' William came round to look over Daniel's shoulder, but he was saved from answering by the arrival of a car sweeping into the yard. It wasn't Inspector Danvers, as they expected, but McCreesh, the fire investigation officer.

McCreesh looked a little less than overjoyed to find Daniel there before him, but greeted him cordially enough, and when Danvers' RSPCA van pulled up in front of the house just moments later, he seemed resigned to the fact that any hopes he might have had for a quiet morning with Jenny were destined for disappointment.

The door opened to admit not only the RSPCA inspector but also Dek, on crutches. He looked pale and a little tired but otherwise fit enough.

‘Discharged already?' Daniel asked, surprised. ‘Last time I saw you, you were at death's door!'

‘He discharged himself,' the inspector answered. A middle-aged, burly individual, he had grizzled hair and an impressive pair of bushy eyebrows, but a tell-tale crinkling at the corners of his eyes spoke of a sense of humour. ‘The staff nurse phoned me. She was worried he'd collapse in the street, and even though I told her he's an ex-marine and ninety per cent gristle, she was having kittens about him, so I called by and picked him up.'

‘I would have got a taxi,' Dek protested. ‘I couldn't stay in that place another minute. They put me in the geriatric ward, and all the moaning and groaning was driving me insane. One man called out constantly the whole night through. I didn't get a wink of sleep. Anyway, I had no reason to stay there. I'm fine.'

Jenny pulled a chair out for him, and he manoeuvred himself round and sat gingerly in it, the caution of his movements and a poorly concealed grimace giving the lie to his confident claim.

Daniel stepped toward Danvers, holding out his hand and formally introducing himself and William. He said nothing of William's occupation; the two of them had agreed it might do better to remain undisclosed at present.

‘Ah, the getaway driver,' Danvers said. ‘The hero of the hour.'

William turned pink. ‘No, that was Taz, I think. Without him, I doubt if any of us would have got away.'

Hearing his name, Taz looked up from his position on the floor.

‘Good lad,' Danvers said approvingly. He turned to Jenny. ‘And you must be Jenny Summers. I'm Inspector Danvers – RSPCA. Dek works for me when he's not working for you. I'm sorry about the subterfuge. A necessary deception.'

‘No, that's OK,' Jenny said. ‘I understand.'

Danvers raised his eyebrows in the direction of McCreesh.

‘Paul McCreesh. Wiltshire Fire and Rescue,' he supplied, and the credentials obviously gave him the all-clear because Danvers nodded and said he was pleased to meet him.

Jenny brought a large cafetière of coffee to the table and passed mugs round.

‘So what happened at the yard, Friday night?' The question had been burning in Daniel's mind for thirty-six hours.

‘A monumental cock-up, I'm afraid,' the inspector said ruefully. ‘Your efforts to mobilize the local boys in blue produced two community police officers on bicycles who arrived at the front gates and asked if everything was all right. Naturally, the Boyds assured them that it was and they went away.'

William groaned. ‘I don't believe it! I talked myself hoarse trying to get them to understand how dangerous the situation was.'

‘Surely they know the Boyds – by reputation, if nothing else,' Daniel added.

Danvers shrugged. ‘You'd think so, wouldn't you? It seems that everyone available was policing a local football derby. Anyway, by the time I managed to get hold of someone with clout and they organized an appropriate response, there was nothing to be seen.'

‘Nothing? What about the fighting pit they'd built? Did they at least find that?' Daniel asked.

‘I'm afraid it no longer exists. I think they probably bulldozed it with that machine you told me about. We found plenty of rubble amongst the scrap, but nothing to prove what had been there. It could have been anything.'

‘And the kennels? The dogs?'

‘The kennels were still there, but the only dogs were a couple of Rottweilers. Guard dogs, they claimed.'

‘But they had equipment,' William said. ‘Stuff for training fighting dogs.'

‘Yes, that was still there, but it's not illegal to use treadmills to get a dog fit or even hanging tyres to improve its bite. It's suspicious, yes, but without the dogs themselves, we have nothing.'

‘That sucks!' William stated crossly.

‘What about DNA?' Daniel wanted to know. ‘We know the pit bulls were there, so can't they take DNA samples and prove that they don't match the Rotties?'

‘That's been done,' Danvers confirmed. ‘But unless we can find the actual dogs to match the samples to, we're no further forward.'

‘Can't they tell what breed the dogs were from their DNA?' McCreesh wanted to know, but Danvers shook his head.

‘DNA breed profiling with dogs is a very imprecise science, I'm afraid. It's a service offered to pet owners by several companies, but it hasn't been shown to be accurate – quite the opposite, in my experience. Even so-called pure-bred dogs are the result of many centuries of crossing and recrossing. It's a minefield. I'm afraid our only hope is to find the original occupants of those kennels and match the samples. However, with an organization like the Butcher Boys, the dogs have almost certainly been spirited away beyond our reach by now.'

‘Didn't they even take the Boyds in for questioning?' Daniel asked. ‘What about the CCTV evidence?'

‘Norman Boyd claims he was after a couple of trespassers he found stealing from him. He admits that his reaction was rather extreme but insists he was only trying to scare them away, and as no harm was actually inflicted with the machine, there is nothing to prove otherwise. But in answer to your question – yes, they were taken in for questioning.'

‘And released, I suppose?' Daniel said gloomily.

‘In the absence of further evidence, they will be released this morning, so my contact tells me.'

‘So there's a remote chance the dogs are still somewhere local?' This was Dek.

‘Exactly what I was thinking,' Daniel agreed. ‘Knowing the police were almost certainly on their way, they didn't have a lot of time to act, so surely they couldn't have gone far.'

‘Unless they called one of their Butcher Boys buddies to come and fetch them,' the Inspector pointed out. ‘But working on the supposition that they didn't, do you have any idea where they might have taken them?'

Both Dek and Daniel thought for a moment and then shook their heads.

‘Mrs Summers?' Danvers asked. ‘You know the area well.'

Jenny also shook her head helplessly. ‘I'm sorry. There are so many barns and old farm buildings around. They could be anywhere. The Boyds have lived in these parts for ever. They know it like the back of their hands.'

‘I suppose Radpole's Barn might be worth a look,' Daniel said, without much conviction. ‘It's nicely remote and they've used it before, but, on the other hand, it's quite a long drive for them to have got there and back before the police turned up the other night.'

‘How do you know about Radpole's Barn?' Dek asked curiously.

‘I went along when Ricky organized his little meet last week.'

‘
Did
you, indeed? I didn't even
hear
about that until afterwards.'

‘Woodsmoke, the poacher, got wind of it. I got some video footage, too,' Daniel said, taking the memory stick from his pocket and holding it up. ‘Sickening stuff. It'll definitely be enough to convict Ricky, but the others weren't there.'

‘Christ! You took a chance!'

‘Well, I thought something should be done to stop them. The police didn't seem to be getting off their backsides, and I didn't know about you at that point.'

‘So, when did you realize?'

‘Only really when it all started to fall apart for you at the salvage yard. Suddenly, things began to make sense. Shame it was a bit late. Between us, we might have got somewhere. As it was, I fouled it all up, big time, for which I can't apologize enough.'