White Lilies (8 page)

‘The tart didn’t say it had been found. They’ll want to know why we’ve waited to report it missing. We’ll tell them that we’ve only just realised it has gone and thought it might be some toe rag on the estate who’d borrowed it. So we asked about first.’

‘Yeah, there’re some proper bastards around here, right Danny?’ said Billy, laughing as they strolled into the police station.

Bridey Tate, just twenty-one, was on a life support machine fighting for her life, as was her eight-week-old son, Toby. Mother and baby had been going out to spend the gift vouchers that her and her husband had received when Toby was born.

The buggy which the baby had been in now lay overturned on the pavement. Police and ambulances had arrived at the scene and, within minutes, others attended in numbers to seal off the area. The registered number of the offending vehicle had been circulated to all working police personnel by the officers in the car that had been in the traffic queue at the traffic lights. An independent police complaints commission investigation was started.

It wasn’t long before a lorry driver reported that a car was on fire on the moors. The patrol car, which had been dispatched to the scene of the burning vehicle confirmed that it was the car probably responsible for what could prove to be a fatal accident and was expected to be the victim of an arson attack. Although the vehicle wasn’t totally destroyed when the fire engines reached it, it wasn’t far off being a blackened shell by the time they’d managed to put out the fire.

Meanwhile, Danny Denton and Billy Greenwood stood as bold as brass at the help desk counter of Harrowfield Police Station, on CCTV and in full view of all police personnel that were on duty. They smiled sweetly up into the camera in the foyer as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.

‘Would you mind not leaning on the counter,’ said the help desk assistant whose face was puffy, flushed and tight-lipped. ‘We’ve got a major incident unfolding. What do you want?’

‘I’ve just come to report my car stolen,’ Danny said, sprawling his arms across the counter; the help-desk assistant tutted loudly. Billy stood behind Danny making rude gestures.

‘Really?’ said the hefty, white haired desk sergeant who rose from his chair at the back of the office.

‘Yeah,’ Billy replied, stepping forward to back up his friend.

The sergeant dismissed the help-desk assistant and took the relevant forms out of his grey metal filing cabinet drawer. With great care he took down details for the crime report.

‘Sit down,’ he ordered, pointing to a bench that was screwed to both the floor and the wall. The two did as they were told.

‘No one’s gonna nick this are they?’ Billy laughed, touching the thick nut and bolt securing the piece of wood that emulated a seat.

‘PC Whitworth’ll be out to see you in a minute,’ the sergeant called.

Inspector Jack Dylan walked through the foyer, glancing in their direction.

‘What’ve you two been up to?’ he asked the boys.

‘Nothing sir, somebody nicked our car,’ said Billy sheepishly.

Dylan laughed heartily. ‘So now you know what it’s like to have summat stolen don’t you?’

Danny put one finger up behind Dylan’s back as they watched him key in the security numbers to allow him to enter the station’s offices.

‘What’re they playing at?’ Danny whispered impatiently to his friend just as two police officers walked through the same door.

‘I understand you’ve come to report your car stolen?’ said the taller of the two.

‘Yeah’ said Danny, rising from the bench.

‘That’s convenient.’ he said, looking straight into Danny’s eyes.

‘No, it ain’t, we had to walk here,’ Billy responded. The two officers looked at each other with furrowed brows.

‘Who’s the owner?’ asked the smaller, fresh faced young officer who could have been the same age as them.

‘Me, and before you ask, it’s legit and I’ve got all the documents to prove it here,’ Danny said, waving paperwork in front of his face.

‘And who are you then?’ the older officer said to Billy.

‘I’m his best mate.’

The young officer pointed to a door.

‘In there,’ he said to Billy.

‘And you come with me,’ said the older of the two as he picked up the crime report from the desk sergeant and waved a finger at Danny that indicated he should follow him.

‘So, Mr Denton, I’m PC Tim Whitworth. Now, when was this car of yours stolen then?’ he said, pulling the chair out from beneath a small square melamine desk.

‘We noticed it were gone from outside the flat this morning.’

‘So let’s get this straight. You’re telling me you’ve walked round since this morning looking for your car, but since you’ve have no luck you’ve decided to report it to us, is that right?’ The police officer said, staring deep into Danny’s eyes.

Danny nodded.

‘We believe your car has just knocked down a young mother and her child on a zebra crossing, both are on the critical list. If I find out you’re lying to me I’ll personally string you up and by God you’ll wish you were dead,’ he said leaning across the desk and grabbing Danny by the chin with a wrench-like grip.

‘Argh,’ said Danny, swallowing hard. ‘It’s wasn’t me. I haven’t done ought. Look, I brought my keys and my documents like I were told to on the phone. It weren’t me. Come on, if I’d have done ought like that d’ya think I’d have been stupid enough to come anywhere near you? Let go of me,’ he demanded through clenched teeth.

The officer squeezed harder then pushing Danny’s head backwards he let go. ‘God, if my daughter, our Sara, ever brought a lout like you home…’ he started to say with a great in-drawing of breath. ‘Stay here, I’ll be back,’ he said as he marched out of the door.

Danny sat looking around. The room was only about eight feet square. It had no windows and one door and it was unbearably warm. The walls were newly painted grey; he could still smell the solvents. Danny could hear the mumble of two officer’s voices outside the door of the interview room. It was strangely soothing. A camera was focused on him from the top right hand corner of the room and a strip of metal ran around the walls. He knew that was an alarm bell that the officer could use to summon his colleagues in case he was under attack. He smiled, he only knew that because they had had to use it when he had punched a copper in an interview room once.

PC Tim Whitworth threw the door back in a sudden, sharp movement, which made Danny jump as it slammed against the wall behind him.

‘Your stories check out, so before I can think of something else to keep you in for, get out of my sight,’ he spat, holding the door ajar.

‘I need the crime number for the insurance, mate?’ Danny said. He could feel the officer’s anger and reluctantly PC Whitworth walked back into the room, leaned on the desk and wrote the number down on a piece of paper, and then threw it at him.

‘Cheers,’ Danny said, with a smile as he turned and reached out for the officer’s hand. PC Whitworth grabbed his collar and standing up, he pinned Denton to the wall. ‘Keep looking over your shoulder, mate,’ he said, bringing his knee up into his crutch before throwing him out into the foyer.

‘Hey you can’t do that,’ Billy shouted as he rose from the bench he’d been sitting on, loud enough for the desk sergeant to hear. The desk sergeant raised his eyebrows and craned his neck to look over the counter to see what the commotion was about and then carried on with what he was doing.

PC Whitworth glared at Billy. ‘Fuck off,’ he mouthed. Danny walked up to Billy and putting a hand on his shoulder turned him round to face the exit and pushed him towards it.

‘He thinks he’s hard in that uniform,’ he whispered. ‘But I know his name. We won’t forget him,’ he grimaced, rubbing in between his legs.

‘Too true we won’t, the bastard,’ Billy said. PC Tim Whitworth stood at the exit of the police station and watched the two until they had walked under the subway tunnel towards the town and out of sight.

‘We’d better ring the insurance company when we get home,’ said Danny. ‘And we need to give Pam that tenner back she lent us when we see her.’

‘Why would we want to do that Danny?’ asked Billy.

‘Well, we wouldn’t want her to think we’re only after her for her money now would we?’ he said with a grin.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Billy said.

‘I’ll text her.’

‘Good plan.’

It wouldn’t be long before news of Bridey Tate’s fate and that of her son spread quickly.

The hospital and police were frantically trying to get hold of Bridey’s husband and family.

The road remained closed and the police were interviewing the shocked witnesses. The mangled wreck of the pram remained in situ, battered and wretched and next to the police cordon was a growing memorial; a wall of flowers and soft toys.

CID was now at the scene.

This was an evil crime, a deliberate act. Why did the car need to get away from the police so badly?

PC Tim Whitworth took the call on his radio at the scene. ‘The chassis number’s been checked and the car is confirmed as belonging to a Danny Denton,’ said the police officer from the control room.

‘I’m gonna be late tonight love. It looks like the old lady was murdered,’ Dylan told Jen’s answering machine. ‘Catch up with you as soon as I can.’ He put the phone down in haste and called out to anyone in the CID office within earshot.

‘I need to get the incident room up and running, house to house enquiries urgently completed and forensic officers to the deceased’s home please.’

The scene needed to be searched and the next of kin identified. Initial enquiries had suggested that Ms Sykes had no family.

‘Who was the last person to see her alive, Taylor?’ Dylan asked DS Taylor Spiers as he handed her a list of people to contact. She shrugged her shoulders, wide-eyed.

‘Get the team together for a briefing as soon as possible will you, this bloody murderer has had one hell of a head start on us.’

He picked up the phone to ring the press office and give Liz a brief statement.

‘
A murder enquiry is under way after the decomposed body of an elderly lady was found at her home address,’
he said.
‘Number 11, Causeway Cottages. A post-mortem has shown that she died from a non-accidental head injury, which possibly occurred some six weeks ago. Police hope to name the lady later today but are appealing for witnesses.’
I know they’ll want more, but I need to get things up and running and obtain more background information on the victim before I can give them anything,’ he said to Liz at the press office.

No sooner had he put the phone down than it rang again and Dylan picked up straight away.

‘Boss, John Benjamin, has anyone told you about the young mother and her son who’ve been mowed down on a zebra crossing by an alleged stolen car?’ he said. Dylan leaned back in his chair.

‘Go on, first I’ve heard of it,’ he said, disgruntled.

‘Twenty-one-year-old mum and her eight-week-old son are both on life support at Harrowfield hospital, it’s looking like there is nothing that can be done – they’ve both got massive head injuries. I’m at the scene and we’re urgently trying to trace next of kin.’

‘What do we know about the car, John?’

‘Been confirmed as a red Ford Fiesta that’s owned by a local scrote; him and his mate apparently reported it stolen today.’

‘I’ll see you at the scene as soon as. By the way the PM on Mildred Sykes shows she was murdered by a fatal blow to the head. I’m trying to get that one up and running with Taylor.’

‘No probs, see you soon.’

How accurate the saying is that
it never rains but it pours,
thought Dylan.

Quickly briefing Taylor of what he wanted her to do next, he excused himself to head towards the scene of the accident to ensure that no corners were cut and everything was done properly.

‘My God, what sort of place have I come to work in?’ Taylor said to Dennis. ‘It’s like that
Midsomer Murders
.'

‘Arrange the debrief for five, Dennis, and in the meantime a photograph from the house of Ms Sykes would be helpful if you can arrange for someone to pick one up for me. Remember Taylor, I want SOCO and forensic at her address; I don’t want anything leaving to chance. I’ll give the team the update on this latest hit and run at the briefing and you can do the update on Grace Harvey’s fatal so that they’re all fully aware of what’s going on.’

Taylor nodded.

‘Right, I’ll be back as soon as I can – and in the meantime I’m on the mobile, so ring me if you need to speak to me’, he said as he picked up his coat and briefcase and flew out of the door.

Dylan could see DS John Benjamin’s large frame stood in the doorway to Mothercare speaking to a uniformed officer. He managed to drive to where the road was cordoned off then had to walk to where Bridey and Toby had been struck. John raised his hand in acknowledgement of his boss’s presence.

People were already passing bouquets to the uniformed officers guarding the scene, who were in turn laying them neatly along the pavement’s edge. The upturned pram was a stark reminder to Dylan of what had taken place. Local press were gathering in droves with their cameras. Vans with television station emblems were parked up with their masts aloft, their occupants frantically setting up filming equipment at the cordon. Tomorrow, the doom and gloom would be spread across the country in the national newspapers.

Dylan scanned the scene. He noticed the absence of skid marks on the dry road surface. There had been no attempt to avoid the pedestrians, so why such desperation by the driver?

‘What’s the story so far John?’ asked Dylan.

‘Earlier today police were in pursuit of a red Ford Fiesta which nearly caused an accident by going through a closing railway barrier towards Tandem in the chase and according to witnesses the train only missed the car by a split second. The police car had to stop and the car got away.

'Its details were circulated over the police radio and a short time later it was spotted on the high street, two up. A police car pulled up behind it and put its sirens and blue lights on to alert the Fiesta’s driver to stop. Since it was stationary due to the traffic lights ahead changing to red, the police officers got out of the car and ran towards the Fiesta. Its occupants, presumably seeing them in pursuit, set off at speed, mounting the pavement to pass stationary cars and mowing down the young mum with her son who were just stepping onto the zebra crossing.

'It didn’t stop, carried on at speed and was later found burnt out on the moors. The owner, along with his mate, reported the car stolen at the nick some time later – which undeniably stinks. The police officers have talked to them and the lads are singing from the same hymn sheet so they’ve had to let them go.

'It looks like the enquiry will have to be overseen by the independent complaints commission because of the police pursuit and that’s about it in a nutshell,’ concluded John.

‘Thanks. Phew. Control have told me that professional standards are on their way, although by the sound of it I don’t think it got as involved as a pursuit by the police, did it? We need to gather all the information from the scene and descriptions from witnesses of the occupants of the Fiesta. Even if they can only give us an indication as to what clothing they were wearing. And we also need to tie the burnt-out car to the scene to show it was the offending vehicle. Do we know if it’s a total burn out?’

'Not completely, boss, so I’m told so we may be lucky.’

‘Let’s get it collected from the moors on a low-loader. We might have some impact debris on the part of the vehicle. Ave we checked near the car for footprints or anything that might have been discarded?’

‘We’re on with it, boss.’

‘Just thinking aloud, we’ll have to start a policy book. What’s the update on the family?’

‘I understand they’re still trying to locate her parents. Graham, her husband is a brickie and he’s out on a site. His boss has been made aware and was going over to collect him and take him to Harrowfield Hospital.

‘I’ve arranged for a Family Liaison Officer to be turned out and I’m waiting for control to let me know who that is.’

‘Good lad.’ said Dylan.

‘It’s not looking good, I’m told, for either of the casualities.’

‘The bastards eh?’ Dylan said with venom.

‘Yeah, exactly.’

‘Look, I’ve got a briefing back at Harrowfield for the murder of the old lady from Causeway Cottages but I’ll meet up with you afterwards at the nick and we’ll speak more. I take it we don’t think the car was stolen and the report was made after the incident?’

‘PC Tim Whitworth and his partner say there was no proof to detain. I think it’s an odd one but the only thing that concerns me is that there was a screwdriver stuck in the ignition according to our lads at the scene and the owner of the vehicle turned up at the nick with the keys. Would they have had time or the nous to think about staging it do you think?’ John said, lines furrowing his brow.

‘Let’s just get all the information together before we make any assumptions. Never mind dangerous driving. Cars are weapons just like guns. They can and do kill. Make sure we get all the CCTV in the areas concerned – and that includes the information from the speed cameras if possible. See if we can nail ’em. Treat it as a murder. Oh, and if you…’

‘Need to speak to you you’re on your mobile,’ John said. Dylan smiled.

Leaving John standing on the pavement by the scene, Dylan texted Jen.

I think the world’s gone mad
x.

And don’t tell me. You’re the only one who can put it right X, she texted back.

LOL Don’t wait up. Love you X

Love you too
X. Jen sighed. She had a sinking feeling that another meal for one beckoned her from the freezer.

Dylan felt bad as he drove back to the nick. He would never understand how Jen put up with him but he was grateful she did. She was his ‘normal’ and he loved her for it.

Dylan walked through the foyer of the police station eating a banana that Jen had packed in his briefcase earlier that morning. He wondered about the two lads he’d seen in there earlier. Was one of them the owner of the car that had been involved in the hit and run? Nah, if they were the owners of a stolen car, he pondered, they were far too calm. He tried desperately to put names to their faces but was distracted by the noise coming from the incident room as he walked along the corridor. He was late.

‘Boss, the team are all ready for you. Shall I sit up front?’ asked the pouting Taylor Spiers.

‘Why not, I’ll just pay a call and grab a coffee then I’ll be with you.’

‘Your coffee has been ordered, sir,’ Taylor said, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

DS Spiers sat facing the door when he walked in the briefing room, Dylan’s coffee cup protectively held in her hands. She uncrossed her legs and stood up to greet him. The room fell silent at his entrance and he sat at her side, taking the cup from her.

‘Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. For those of you who haven’t worked with me before I’m Detective Inspector Jack Dylan and I will be in charge of this murder investigation. My deputy will be Detective Sergeant Taylor Spiers.’ Dylan said indicating the woman who sat facing him.

Taylor smiled and sat up straight with her head erect and looked straight at him. Her long black dangly earrings rested on shoulders tightly pressed against the back of the chair. Involuntarily her bust thrust forward and from where he was sat he could see straight down her cleavage.

Her black shift dress with long flowing sleeves clung to her slender frame. The long black ridiculously high thigh length black boots she was so fond of wearing with black fishnet tights, were crossed at the ankle and stretched out in front of her, she reminded him of a spider.

He looked at the eyes of the young men in the audience who were openly admiring her and smiled to himself. God, he wished Dawn was with him on this one. Better the devil you knew.

‘Sir?’

‘Yes, Vicky,’ said Dylan.

‘I’ve just heard Graham Tate has been collected and is en-route.’

‘Thank you.’

Dylan couldn’t help notice Vicky smiling sweetly at Taylor.

‘Mildred Sykes,’ he said with a cough. ‘Excuse me, we now know was 78 years old and lived alone at number 11, Causeway Cottages. She hadn’t been seen for some time and after neighbours raised concerns with the police, officers attended and decided to force entry. They found her fully clothed badly decomposed body in the front bedroom. From the post-mortem examination it looks like she has been dead for around six weeks.

'It is quite clear that the cause of death was a massive blow to the rear of her skull – that has been confirmed and could not have been caused by a fall. She has bruises to her wrists where she may have been held or bound. Why was this elderly lady brutally murdered? What was the motive? Only time will tell.

'At the moment we know very little about her and we will need to create a timeline to find out what she’d been up to in the last few days of her life. Who were her visitors? Who did she telephone? Who telephoned her? Is there anything missing from her home? So far we have failed to locate living relatives, so we’re reliant on neighbours at the moment.

'It’s not an easy one and the murderer or murderers have had approximately six weeks start on us, but I’m confident we’ll catch up. Let’s not forget, ninety per cent of the time a victim will have had contact or known their killer or killers. So let’s find who did it. Any questions?’

‘Do we know when she last cashed her pension boss? If we did, then it might give us some start on a timescale,’ Vicky said.

‘I don’t think we do know at the moment do we Taylor?’ Dylan said turning to his right hand woman.

‘Er no, not yet,’ Taylor answered as she glared at Vicky, Dylan noticed.

‘Good point Vicky,’ Dylan said. ‘And just on that Taylor, see what dates are on the unopened post will you? Okay everyone, you’ll get to know who you’re working with and the enquiries that I want you to make will be allocated by the HOLMES team to the individuals as soon as possible. Ten o’clock finish tonight then briefing back here at eight am tomorrow.