Snow Kills (33 page)

‘Make it a stiff gin,’ she said.

‘In your dreams. Once Regan gets his sleep time tonight his twenty-four hour custody time limit will be up, so we have to get back in there and get some answers. I’ll prime the Divisional Commander – no doubt we’re going to need the twelve hour extension – while you look for those billing results. We’re going to be here for a few hours yet today lady, so I hope you’re match fit.’

 Dylan picked up his phone.

‘Jen!’ he said.

‘Guess that’s, Jen I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, before he had got the words out of his mouth.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘Don’t wait up. We can put Kayleigh in Norris Regan’s house and we know he’s lied through his back teeth, but we don’t yet know what happened to her. We’re taking his house and garden apart. The surprise...’

‘Yes?’ Jen said, sounding brighter.

‘The surprise is, I’ve got tickets for ...’

‘Us to go on holiday when it’s all over?’ she said.

‘Not quite... you and Maisy to go to see your dad.’ The line went silent. ‘Jen? Are you still there?’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. Look, it’s all sorted,’ he said hurriedly. ‘I wanted to tell you face to face. I hoped you’d be pleased. I’ve arranged for your dad to collect you from the ferry. I wanted to tell you earlier. It just never seemed the right time.’

‘I can’t,’ she said flatly.

‘Of course you can.’

‘How can I get everything ready by tomorrow? You can be so damn thoughtless sometimes! I want to wait, we’ll go together... in a little while. Cancel the tickets,’ she said, a rising panic in her voice. ‘What about Max?’

‘I know what you’re saying, but I’m about as useless as a bucket with a hole in to you and Maisy right now. Think about it. It’s all booked and me and Max, we’ll be good.’ He didn’t realise how nervous he had been about her reaction until he put down the phone, but she didn’t jump at the chance of a visit to the Isle of Wight to see Shaun Turner again, and that had to be good news.

Jen put her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating fast. ‘Please Jack,’ she said quietly, ‘Please don’t send me away. Please don’t do this to me.’

Dylan was writing his policy log as Vicky scanned the telephone information.

‘Bingo Boss, we’ve got contact. Regan rang Barrowclough and visa versa. Checking times and dates now to see if they’re relevant,’ Vicky added excitedly.

‘Fantastic,’ he said picking up his ringing telephone.

‘Sergeant Languard, cells, boss. This isn’t good news, Regan has had to be sent by ambulance to Harrowfield General with a Police escort, he’s complaining of chest pains.’

‘Fucking hell!’ said Dylan, thumping the desk.

‘His custody clock has stopped until he returns, sir.’

‘Of course, yes. Thanks. I hope... he’s going to be alright.’

‘You do?’ he said.

‘We don’t want the bastard taking an easy way out now, do we?’

‘Ah, no. Well, there’s been nothing wrong with his appetite. He had a big plate of curry and chips for his tea.’

‘Curry?’ Dylan said, as his taste buds took a roller coaster ride. ‘And guess what, we’ll have to go without, since our canteen is closed. Where’s the justice there then?’

‘No sir, there isn’t sir. I’ll keep you updated.’

‘Vicky, you sorted that little job yet?’ Dylan shouted as he replaced the receiver.

‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to rush... Regan’s on his way to hospital, chest pains,’ Dylan said as he stood at his door.

‘Oh my God,’ said PC Jackie May.

‘Don’t worry, paramedics are fantastic these days, I’ve got faith they’ll save him for another interview,’ Vicky said, biting into a Crunchie bar.

‘He could be at the hospital for a while though, maybe all night for observations. He doesn’t have a history of heart problems that we know of, does he?’

‘No, probably bloody guilt.’

‘More like heartburn, he’s just had a plate of curry. But the delay might just work in our favour, especially if we can get a dawn raid together to do on Barrowclough’s place tomorrow morning?’ said Dylan, raising his eyebrows.

‘Now you’re talking boss, we’re on a roll – and don’t forget he’s my number-one suspect,’ Vicky smiled a Cheshire Cat smile.

‘You’re not going to let me forget, are you? But if it all goes pear-shaped, I won’t let you forget either,’ he said, with a wink.

‘From what I can see from this information, Regan telephoned Barrowclough the night Kayleigh went missing. There are a cluster of calls to and from that night and the day after, then nothing until around the time we did house to house enquiries.’

‘Thought he said his phone wasn’t working the night she went missing?’ said Dylan.

Andy, Ned and the rest of the team filtered into the incident room. It was late, they were all pale and tired and most couldn’t wait to get into a nice hot shower, but the debrief and update had to be done first.

The hospital confirmed that Regan would be detained overnight for observations. He hadn’t had a heart attack as suspected but they needed to rule out an infection, although the likeliest cause was indigestion. The drain on uniform staff to guard him was necessary but frustrating.

‘We’ve secured the house and the garden is over seventy five percent cleared, sir,’ said Andy. ‘And there’s been no further information or evidence discovered.’

‘Nothing much new this end either, since Regan has been whipped to the hospital. The cluster of calls shown on the billing information between him and Barrowclough are interesting, especially as Regan denied knowing him in interview,’ said Dylan.

‘Do you think Regan might have rang Barrowclough when he found Kayleigh in her car and continued to update him as the situation unfolded?’ said PC Jackie May.

‘Don’t know, but it looks almighty suspicious, don’t you think? What I do know is that we need to strike while the iron is hot. I’ve arranged with the HQ support team to send us twelve officers tomorrow morning to help us with the raid on Barrowclough’s address. I need you all there but we need to be extremely cautious about cross contamination. Our main objective is to arrest him, and to search for Kayleigh or evidence of his involvement in her disappearance.’

Dylan looked grave. He knew the team were exhausted, but he also knew they had to make a move sooner rather than later. The adrenaline rush would give them enough energy to do what was necessary with the next address – it had to, for the sake of the enquiry.

Briefing over, and everyone’s roles sorted for the next morning, it was off home for a few hours’ sleep, ready for the next phase of the investigation.

‘Talk about ships that pass in the night,’ Jen said under her breath as she turned to the dressing table to pick out a handkerchief. Dylan’s suit and shirt was on the rail and she was choosing his tie when he walked in. Her heart melted at the sight of his tired, pale face – tonight was no night to give him a hard time, and although it was difficult she kept cool and calm. Dylan didn’t notice. His mind was elsewhere but something in her eyes made her appear more mysterious than any police enquiry.

As Dylan shaved the next morning, Jen placed a cup of coffee on the corner of the sink. ‘You tossed and turned last night.’

‘Yeah, I know, I’m sorry if I kept you awake. I tried to shut down, but my mind was buzzing. You know how it is love,’ he said, lifting his chin to shave underneath.

‘I’ve put some sandwiches and fruit on top of your briefcase. Go and do what you have to do at work, then you can come home with a clear head. We can talk before I leave,’ she said.

‘No, we’ll talk when you get back. You go home and catch up with your dad,’ he smiled. Patting his face with a towel before taking her head in his warm hands, he leant forward and kissed the top of it, like a child.

Jen looked up at him, about to protest. Dylan put a finger to her lips. ‘Shhh.. It’s okay. I’ll pick you up at six to take you to the train station. We’ll have plenty of time to talk then. I’m not taking no for an answer.’ He turned away from her and splashed cold water in his face to stop her from seeing the tears burning in his eyes.

She reached out and her fingers lingered against the skin on his bare back for a moment or two before she turned and left.

‘Don’t forget to give Maisy a kiss from me when she wakes up every morning and tell her how much her Daddy misses her every night, yeah?’ he called. His voice was muffled. Through the half-closed door, she saw him splashing aftershave on his face.

‘I will,’ she said, quietly. He studied her reflection in the shaving mirror and walked into the bedroom, caught up with her and embraced her from behind. He could feel her warm naked body beneath her thin dressing gown. ‘Just remember how much I love you, Miss Jones,’ he said, nuzzling his face into her neck. ‘Much more than anyone else ever could – and don’t you ever, ever forget that.’ She turned to face him. He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. She looked longingly into his eyes and felt a deep stirring within her.

‘Better go, otherwise the raid will be over before I even get there,’ he said clearing his throat as he tore himself away to shrug on a crisp, clean shirt. ‘I’ve got some interviewing today that will produce some fidgety backsides.’

Jen smiled despite the situation and Dylan grinned back. ‘Yes, you’d better go,’ she whispered, pulling her dressing gown around her. She held out his handkerchief. ‘That won’t wait.’

Maisy stirred. ‘You’re a good man Jack,’ Jen said, lying down on the bed.

‘If I was a good man, I’d be jumping back into bed with my wife,’ he said with a deep groan.

Maisy’s murmurings became a cry that increased in volume.

Dylan silently watched Jen walk from the room and heard her singing to Maisy a few seconds later in a soft, calming, reassuring tone. He knew he would need every bit of energy he could muster over the next forty eight hours – this was no time for distractions. The pressure today would be intense and any mistakes would be put down to him, no one else. It was a relief to feel everything appeared okay between the two of them, which meant he could focus on the task ahead.

‘I’ll be back to take you both to the station, I promise,’ he called from the nursery door.

Jen looked up, her eyes searching his face for a clue as to why he was sending her away, but she couldn’t find one.

The office was a noisy place. So much so, that Dylan had to close his office door to answer his telephone. Claire Rose from the Force press office was being harassed by journalists to confirm or otherwise the arrest of someone on suspicion of the murder of Kayleigh Harwood, and that the perpetrator was under police guard at the hospital.

‘I’m sorry Claire,’ Dylan said. ‘You’re going have to hold them off for a little while longer, but I’ll give you a full update later today. The family are unaware of the Police activities, so they will have to be updated before we divulge any information to the media.’

As the clock struck 7 am everyone was ready. Dylan had made arrangements for uniform to remove the prisoner from the scene, assuming of course he was at the address, and once the arrest had been made he had told the cell area staff at the police station to expect another prisoner in for murder. Arrangements had also been made for Barrowclough to be placed in the female cell block away from Regan, ensuring there could be no contact between them.

Vicky travelled with Dylan.

‘They’re calling me sir’s pet, because I’m travelling with you,’ she said.

Dylan smiled at his companion. ‘Does it bother you?’

‘Nah, if they’re talking about me, they’re leaving some other poor bugger alone,’ she said.

‘That’s true.’ Dylan nodded. ‘You’re interviewing with me, so I need to make sure you don’t get bogged down with anyone else’s work.’

It was cold and there had been a sharp frost overnight. Slowly, the police vehicles crunched down the unmade track to Railway House, avoiding the pot holes where possible. The house was enclosed by a rotting fence. Alighting from his car, Dylan pulled back the catch of the gate – even though he could have easily walked through the broken boundary, he took the preferred route. He closed it behind him before walking down the cracked and uneven flagstone path. He could see the cows in the adjacent field and smell wood smoke. The officers passed a dog handler, stood with his hand against the trunk of a big old oak tree with branches that appeared to penetrate an open upstairs window of the residence and emerge some feet later through a hole in the tiled roof. Tiles lay on the ground. The dog handler gave Dylan a wincing smile as Bite leapt forward on his chain. Dylan and Vicky stood still. Bite’s owner brandished a pole and a noose – there would be no risks taken with vicious dogs that were reported to live here. An old ramshackle kennel stood empty in the yard. All was silent, expect for the odd bird trill.

‘Where’s his German Shepherd?’ Vicky whispered.

‘Don’t know.’ Dylan said with the shrug as he scoured the rest of the cluttered courtyard with keen eyes.

A uniformed officer could be seen in the marked police car out of sight of the house, and another stood beside the door. A rush of OSU officers rolled quietly through the wood and around the house in sequence, hidden in the shadow of the trees. There was a raw north-easterly wind blowing up. Soil that had been mud and sludge not so long ago bore the scars of heavy vehicles being recently driven over it.

The house itself looked very forlorn. Up close, Dylan could see the peeling wall, and the woodwork of the windows showed through the perished paint. There was a greenish-brown streak down the corner of the building where a gutter had been blocked, with leaves and rainwater spilling over. Slates were loose and hung over the guttering. If the house had blinds or curtains, they were drawn. A dim light could be seen and a dog began to bark.

Dylan turned at the old weather-beaten stable door to see his officers in position. His blood pumped and he felt breathless as adrenaline raced through his veins. There was nothing like feeling a collar.