MVP's NaJoPoMo continued
Created | Updated Nov 30, 2013
Sixteenth Instalment - continued.
"I'm looking for a murderer, Tina," said the Inspector. "Or rather, two murderers who've killed two people. One of those people was a young woman who'd never done anyone any harm."
Tina shook her head. "I wouldn't know anything about that."
"Mick didn't ask you to get rid of any bood stained clothes recently, did he?"'
"No he didn't."
"So he has been back recently? "said the Inspector.
"I didn't say that." Tina was looking uncomfortable, peering around the Inspector as if she expected Mick to arrive at the caravan site.
The Inspector turned to me. "Sergeant, take this down. I'm warning Christine Morgan that if she doesn't help the police with their inquiries into the murder, she's guilty of aiding and abetting the murderer."
Tina stood in the caravan door, with her hands on her hips. "You're not getting any more from me. "
Seventeenth Instalment
I felt the interview with Tina was unsatisfactory, but Inspector Smart was more optimistic. He thought it meant Mick was still in the area and we'd hear of his whereabouts before long. One person we did hear from was Gary Smith, one of Sam Taylor's friends. The detectives had already been to see him but not learned much. Now he rang our incident line, saying he wanted to talk to someone.
Inspector Smart and I visited Gary's flat above a fish and chip shop in the town centre. There was a steep set of stairs at the back of the shop and a door that needed painting. The man who opened the door was haggard and there was an unfocused quality about his eyes which suggested a drug habit. The fleece he was wearing looked too big for him. He let us into a flat with little in the way of furniture- just an old table, a few chairs and a mattress on the floor. The Inspector and I sat on a couple of rickety chairs, while Gary flopped onto the mattress.
He picked up a hand-rolled cigarette. "Are you going to arrest me if I admit I sold a bit of skunk?"
"I'm not bothered about that," said the Inspector. "I want to know who killed Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde."
"I suppose it's being bugging me," Gary said and lit his cigarette."What happened to Sam and that girl."
"So what do you know, Gary?"
"Sam didn't do drugs usually. But the last time I met him he said he'd got a load of hash he wanted to sell. He said it had been given to him by a man called Mick." Gary inhaled.
"When was this?"
"About a week before he was killed. But I was a bit doubtful about this Mick character. Said I couldn't see why he'd give away hash he could've sold himself. Sam said he'd been given it for keeping his mouth shut."
Inspector Smart leaned forward. I could see he was interested in this information. The search of Sam Taylor's flat had shown up small amounts of cannabis but nothing to suggest he was trading drugs in any quantity.
"Do you know what it was? The thing he was keeping quiet about?"
Gary shook his head.
The Inspector took a printout of the photographs of our suspects out of his pocket and pointed to one of Mick Baker. "Do you know this man?"
Gary looked at the photo for a while. "Can't say I do."
"Because it seems to me that this Mick Baker and your Mick could be one and the same person. In which case I really want to find him""
Eighteenth Instalment
Although it seemed Mick Baker was one of our prime suspects, we hadn't managed to identify the other man. We knew by now both men were violent and we suspected a link to drug trafficking. But we still didn't know how all this tied in with the Town Council. Somewhere there were links missing.
So when Inspector Smart and I went looking for Bill Field, we were careful. Although the Inspector and I were the only officers who arrived at the disused pub where he was believed to live, we had a back up team ready to help if necessary. The pub might once have been a busy local, with a brick built ground floor and white clapperboard first floor. However, the main building had been boarded up, leaving only the windows in what might have been the stables showing any sign of life. Some dirty net curtains hung in two of them.
I knocked on the door with no response and tried opening it but found it locked. So we called up the back up team, who arrived with their equipment. They battered their way in and we hurried into the room. There was noone there. However, it looked as if the occupant had left in a hurry. There were the remnants of a pizza on a table in the middle of the room, together with some white powder on a plate.
The Inspector bent over it."Cocaine, I would bet".
We searched those rooms in detail. We fould nothing suspicious about the divan bed, with a duvet on it, or the calor gas stove with a couple of rings. However, there was a locked wardrobe in a corner. There had been a decent shower room, but the toilet was blocked and there didn't seem to be any water in the tap. When we broke open the wardrobe we found a box full of bags. One of our team cautiously opened one and pronounced it cannabis.
Inspector Smart called the search team together. "I think we can come to some conclusions. These two men, Mick Baker and Bill Fields are members of a drug gang. They're not the bosses, but they might be the muscle men. They're probably flogging cannabis and skunk on a large scale. Somehow, poor Sam Taylor stumbled on the supply line and they wanted to shut him up. The question is what did he find and where does the Town Council fit in?"
Nineteenth Episode
Back at the incident room, Inspector Smart drank another cup of tea. "If we're talking large scale cannabis production, the gang will need a good size premises."
"Patricia Small has a barn," I said and stirred my own tea.
"And Jeremy Newland has a factory. And the Major has a mate who's renovating an old pub." He sighed. "We'll need warrants but we better start checking premises."
A few days later, we drove into Councillor Small's yard. There were three of us in the car -Lance,Inspector Smart and me, but we had an armed response team in the lane behind us - just in case. The place had a closed up look that might have been due to the rain. The horses were no longer in the field or looking over the stable doors and there seemed to be no-one about. The curtains were closed across some of the windows of the main house, although it was mid morning.
"I was hoping for a friendly reception," said the Inspector."But perhaps I was wrong."
Lance got out of the car and started walking towards the door and, at the same moment I saw the curtains move in one of the bedrooms.
"Get down,Lance!" I yelled.
It was too late. I heard a shot and Lance toppled over backwards.
I grabbed the first aid kit and ran to his side, to find him moaning and grasping his left shoulder. As I found a dressing to staunch the bleeding, I was aware of the men of the armed response team running to take up positions behind the bushes that lined the drive.
Inspector Smart came to crouch over Lance. "We've got an ambulance coming. They'll take care of you."
"It's my shoulder..."moaned Lance.
"Try not to move too much. You'll be allright," I said. Although he was bleeding heavily, I didn't think it was arterial.
The Inspector stood up and walked over to the armed response team's van. After a conversation with the officer in charge, he was handed a megaphone. "Sussex Police," he said in a voice that boomed round the grounds. "We have got armed police here but I don't want anyone else to get hurt. I'd like to talk to Councillor Patricia Small."
For several minutes there was little movement and the only sound was Lance gasping from the pain in his shoulder. After a signal from the van the armed police moved quietly, fanning out around the house.
Inspector Smart lifted his megaphone again. "We're going to wait here until we hear from Patricia Small."
I was glad to hear the siren of an ambulance arriving. At least I'd get some help for Lance.Everyone else seemed to be settling in for a long wait.
Twentieth Instalment
I watched as the paramedics checked Lance's condition, carefully placed him on a stretcher and loaded it into the ambulance.
"I'll come and see you,"I promised Lance. I was regretting complaining about his sense of humour, as I realised I'd come close to losing a colleague. My uniform was red with his blood.
Reinforcements began to arrive: more armed police, dog handlers and the Superintendent, who took overall control. All I did was wait until Inspector Smart walked over.
"It must have shaken you up, seeing Lance go down like that. You probably need to go home, take it easy for awhile." He put a hand on my shoulder and, for once, it didn't seem a sexist gesture.
"I'd like to be in at the kill, Inspector," I said, although I didn't feel as strong as I tried to sound
He nodded."I understand that but it might take a while. But we're going to open that barn, so you can come and join us for that."
I walked with the Inspector to the big wooden doors of the barn, where a group of officers was waiting. A constable prised the door open with a crowbar and we all walked in. As the lights went on, the scene made me gasp. Row after row of cannabis plants, rigged up with irrigation tubes and blasted with warm air. I'd seen small scale cannabis factories before but nothing as big as this.
"I think we can understand Sam Taylor's involvement,"said the Inspector. "He was probably called in to help with the wiring, but he wanted a pay off. Or he threatened to talk."
"But Councillor Small?"I asked. "I can't quite see her as a ruthless drug queen."
The Inspector shook his head. "I suspect she got in out of her depth. But she's going to have to do some serious explaining. If she's still alive."
"Do you think they might have killed her too?"
"At the moment, I don't know. And it might be a long wait."
Twenty First Instalment
When I arrived next morning, I found the Inspector in a group of officers around a small woman with bushy hair. She was standing with a radio by a police car, trying to talk to the people inside the house.
"Any progress, Inspector?" I asked.
He drew his hand across his eyes, which were disappearing into the bags beneath them. I wondered if he'd been there all night. "We're talking to Jim Small. That's Patricia Small's husband. He swears there's no-one in there except them."
"No sign of Mick Baker or Bill Field?"
He shook his head. "I suppose they could have bolted as we arrived yesterday. But they must have walked because there's no other way in for a vehicle. We've checked the outbuildings. It's going to be worth going house to house in the estate up the road."
I joined other officers knocking on doors, showing the householders pictures and descriptions of the two men we were looking for. It was only a small estate of large houses in leafy grounds. Here and there, we met old people who appeared to be unaware of what was going on, despite all the police vehicles parked along the road, and helicopters overhead. At some houses, we got no reply at all but even where people opened the doors, they shook their heads and denied seeing either of our suspects.
We returned to the Small's house tired and disappointed, only to find the place buzzing. The press were crowding around the woman with bushy hair and the Superintendent.
"Jim Small's agreed to come out provided he and his wife are unharmed," the Superintendent said. " I want everyone to act calmly. Please keep still until he's been disarmed.".
We stood still and waited. After a while, the front door opened and a tall, thin man appeared,carrying an old rifle.He was followed by Patricia Small, wearing a pink dessing gown.Jim Small dropped the gun on the gravel drive, raised his hands and immediately several officers rushed towards the couple and forced them to the ground. I found it hard to believe that this elderly couple were capable of drug running and shooting a police officer.
The Superintendent smiled. " Well done, everyone." He turned to Inspector Small. "I imagine you'll want to question them."
The Inspector nodded. "I still want to know who killed Sam Taylor and why. But I could do with a bit of a rest first."
Twenty Second Instalment
I interviewed Patricia Small the next day. She was sitting in a bare, white- walled cell looking small, old and red-eyed. I was tempted to feel sorry for her until I thought of Lance lying on the floor in pain. The Inspector had recommended I approached her gently - at least to start with and I was happy to comply.
I turned the recording machine on. "How do you come to be farming cannabis Mrs Small?"
"We needed the money. Jim was made redundant five years ago and we couldn't afford to keep the place going. But we couldn't bear to lose it - it's been our life." She started sobbing and I handed her a box of tissues.
"But you were breaking the law. Didn't that bother you?"
She sniffed. "Not really. Cannabis isn't that harmful.I've smoked it myself."
I was incredulous."How does a law-abiding woman like you get into the drug trade? Someone must have given you the idea, the plants to start you off."
"A friend."
I wasn't going to let an evasion like that go unchallenged. "What friend?"
She shrugged as if she didn't know or care. I made a note to return to the question later.
"But you must have had people to sell it on. Is that where Mick Baker and Bill Fields came in?"
"I don't know them."
I pushed copies of the photographs of the two men across the table.
She shook her head. "I've never seen them."
Since I didn't seem to be getting anywhere with this line of questioning, I changed tack. "Did Sam Taylor do the wiring in the barn?"
"No, only in the house."
I decided it was time to get tough with her. "You see, we think Sam Taylor saw what was going on in the barn and tried to blackmail you. So you employed Mick Baker and Bill Fields to shut him up."
Her face drained of colour. "You don't really think that, do you?"
"It looks like that from where I am."
"No, no, no,"she said with sudden force. "I might have been growing cannabis but I'm not a murderer."
"So what did you do after the Council meeting on the day of the murder?"I asked.
"I've told you. I went straight home and Jim can vouch for that and so can our housekeeper."
I knew that statement was consistent with her earlier interview, so I turned the recording machine off and ended the interview. I walked away frustrated since we didn't seem to be any closer to finding the men who murdered Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde.
Twenty Third Instalment
Following our original plan, we arrived early the next morning at Major Ferndale's house. I don't think the neighbours had ever seen anything like it - two police cars followed by a van full of armed officers. People looked out of windows and doors, retreated and came back with cameras and mobile phones.
The Major himself was courteous. "I was rather expecting you lot after what happened at Patricia Small's place."
"Did you know she was farming cannabis?"asked the Inspector.
"I've learned not to be surprised by anything."
The house was neat and orderly,the only unusual feature being the number of photographs of soldiers. In the living room, apart from the chairs and table we'd noticed on our previous visit, we found a television and a desk with papers and a computer. Among the papers were piles of letters which seemed to be from former soldiers and officers.
"I like to keep in touch with former comrades," said the Major. "Civi street doesn't treat them very well."
The kitchen was small, with a gas cooker and several cupboards. The cupboards housed the usual kitchen cleaning materials, as well as food.
The Major laughed when one of our technical team took a pinch of a white powder from a jar and sniffed it. "I think you'll find that's salt."
It was only when we searched the bedrooms that Major Ferndale began to give the impression of a certain twitchiness. The main bedroom contained a double bed, made up but apparently unused.
"I haven't used that since Jane left," he said. "You won't find anything in here."
In the second bedroom, a brown and cream striped duvet lay on the floor and a cupboard gaped open.
I noticed the Major glanced under the bed, before shrugging,with an attempt at being casual. "You people didn't give me much chance to clear up before you arrived."
When one of our team looked under the bed, he came out with a long, narrow pipe and a substance that didn't look like tobacco. Inspector Smart held it out.
The Major paled. "It was that war in Afghanistan. A lot of us came home with a drug habit. Opium, heroin. The place is full of the stuff."
At the end of the day, we took away some papers, a computer and the drugs.
"I wonder if the good citizens of Aldermede realised their Town Councillors were into drugs?"asked the Inspector as we drove away.
"What about the pub one of the Major's friends was renovating?" I asked.
"I hope we've got the address of that."
Twenty Fourth Instalment
Although we'd got enough eveidence to charge the Major for possession of illegal drugs, we hadn't got anything to link him for the murder. So the Inspector decided we'd search Jeremy Newland's factory.
We arrived on a Sunday morning and found a substantial rectangular building on the industrial estate. A security guard turned up as soon as we arrived, with our technical team, including sniffer dogs and armed response unit. He shook his head and said he'd phone the boss. We waited.
Jeremy Newland drove into the yard in a new Porsche and stepped out, red faced and furious. "If you people damage anything or stop my production line, I'll sue you!"
Inspector Smart produced his warrant."We've reason to believe the murders of Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde were linked to a drugs ring. We're searching the places we think an amount of drugs might be concealed."
"Well it's no use looking here, Inspector.I hate drugs. My sister died of an overdose." There was a change in Jeremy Newland's face, a haunted look.
Nevertheless we went into the factory. It was obvious nothing could be hidden on the shop floor, because the lines of machines, which must have been used to press and bend metal,were clean and tidy. An overhead track, which took parts from one place to another still had metal bars hanging from it.
"We'll check the stores," said the Inspector.
Jeremy Newland took us into the warehouse area. It was lined with metal shelving, on which were stacked trays of parts, from screws to wheels. The dog handler led his spaniel from one row of shelves to the next, encouraging it to search. Although the dog sniffed at trays and boxes, it never stopped anywhere.
"I told you there was nothing here," Newland said with a kind of grim satisfaction.
"I'm only doing my job," said the Inspector, and I could hear the weariness in his voice.
When we arrived back at the incident room, the Insector sat at his desk and plunged his head in his hands. "We're going to have to go back through the information we've got on the councillors and the Town Clerk, on Sam Taylor and his friends, on our suspects - see what we're missing."
Twenty Fifth Instalment
I was soon plodding through records on the suspects, to see if any of the other men on our shortlist were worth investigating but I kept coming back to Mick Baker and Bill Fields. It seemed they didn't know Sam Taylor, though they might have known some of his associates. One problem was the lack of an obvious connection between either man and any of the councillors, or the Town Clerk. If one of the councillors or the clerk had hired the men, did he or she just walk into a pub and start talking to dubious characters? It seemed unlikely.
Then there was the question of motive. We'd thought Patricia Small had a motive but we couldn't find any link between her and the two suspects. The Town Clerk had gambling debts but we had no evidence he'd tried to borrow money from Sam Taylor. The Major might have a drug habit but was that enough to give Sam a reason for blackmailing him?
We had some further information. Lab tests from the room that Bill Fields had left in a hurry showed that opium and heroin had been stored there in addition to the cannabis we'd found. We had plenty of information about the two suspects - from place of birth and family history to former employment and criminal records. When I was reading through these records something that I must have missed earlier struck me. Both men had served in the Army.
I found the Inspector poring over maps with a detective sergeant and told him."What's the betting they're pals of the Major?"
He smiled for the first time since Lance was hurt."It's a lead of sorts. Do we know where the pub was - the one his mate was supposed to be renovating?"
I showed him on the map. It doesn't take long to get out of Aldermede into real countryside and the pub had been the former White Hart on a crossroads just north of the town. It was an isolated spot, which is doubtless why it had closed.
We set out to the pub before dawn. In the dark, all I could make out was a two-storey building with a single storey annex. There was a light in one of the windows. We were slowing to turn into the car park when a dark-coloured car screeched away from behind the annex.
"Follow them," said the Inspector.
I accelerated away, while my constable radioed headquarters. The roads were narrow and winding and, as I rounded the bends like a rally driver the trees seemed to rush towards us. The car in front swerved past another vehicle almost forcing it off the road and making me slow. I was afraid the delay would lose our quarry but it seemed likely he was heading for the A23 junction. As we swung into the sliproad, two police cars ahead turned across the carriageway, blocking it. The vehicle we were pursuing was trapped.
Twenty Sixth Instalment
Two men jumped out of the car and one made a dash for freedom up the grass bank, with several police officers pursuing. The second swung open the rear door and grabbed a shotgun. But before he could take aim, armed police spilled out of a pursuing car and were taking up positions in the shelter of the vehicles.
"Armed police," yelled an officer. "Put down your gun or we fire."
The man looked round, hesitated, then dropped the shotgun on the road. A moment or two later, several armed officers seized him, forced him to the ground and handcuffed him. Inspector Smart and I walked over to join the group of officers round the captive. As the grey light of dawn was growing stronger, I got a good view of him. He was gaunt and his chin was grey with stubble, but his clear blue eyes and ginger hair were distinctive. I was sure he was Bill Fields, the more dangerous man of the two suspects.
"At last," said the Inspector as we drove back to base,"we've got a result." It was hardly a triumphal statement but more one of relief.
By the time we'd reached headquarters, the news had come through on the radio that the other man, believed to be Mick Baker, had also been captured. Within half an hour, Inspector Smart and I were sitting in a cell in the police station, interviewing Bill Fields. I guessed, from the thin face and an unfocused look in his eyes that he was a drug user as well as a dealer.
"What were you doing on the evening of October 31st?" asked the Inspector.
"I was visiting my old Mum," Bill Fields replied.
"All evening?",
"Yeah. She's been ill."
I didn't believe this statement of filial loyalty. It seemed likely Bill and Mick Baker had been living a chaotic life for some time.
"Where did you meet Sam Taylor?"asked the Inspector.
"Never met him".
"Oh, come on, he was doing some wiring work in the pub, wasn't he?"
Bill Fields looked down at his hands and I noticed they trembled. "We did have a sparky in. I don't know his name."
"Did he try to blackmail you. You or Major Ferndale?"
"Major Ferndale?" asked Bill, looking at the Inspector, with what seemed like genuine surprise. "What's he got to do with anything?"
"We thought he might be in charge of this drugs operation."
Bill Fields gave a thin and bitter laugh. "No way. The Major's a good man. He tried to find proper jobs for us - me and Mick. You leave him out of this."
Episode Twenty Seven
I found the Inspector sitting drinking his customary cup of tea and gave him an account of my interview with Bill Fields.
"They're guilty, the pair of them, I'm sure of it,"he said. "Two murders and multiple counts of drug trafficking. Once we get the DNA samples tested, they'll have to admit to it."
"But what about the Major?"
The Inspector finished his tea and stood up. "We'll go and have another chat with him."
By the time we arrived at the Major's house, it was mid afternoon, and the schoolchildren were flowing out of the school and waiting for a chance to cross the main road. He opened the door looking less upright than before, but he was clean shaven and neatly dressed. It seemed that a life time of wearing uniform left a permanent impresseion on a man.
"Have you come to arrest me?" he asked.
"We could arrest you for possession of illegal drugs,"said the Inspector, "But I'm more interested in whether you know Bill Fields and Mick Baker."
The Major took a step back into his house. "You'd better come in then."
I noticed that one or two things had disappeared from the living room - the television, and a couple of chairs. Whether he'd sold them to finance his drugs habit, or whether he was planning to move to a smaller place, I didn't know.
The Major took a photograph off the window sill and showed it to the Inspector and me. I realised I was looking at a picture of Bill Fields and Mick Baker as young men - slim, fit and smiling in army uniform.
"They were decent soldiers, both of them. But war leaves its mark on men - particularly that war. You never knew when the enemy might attack, you could see your comrades blown up and you still had to go into villages and treat the civilians fairly. It was too hot, you had to carry an enormous amount of kit, you were always tired. When they got back, they couldn't settle, couldn't get jobs, got into trouble. You'll know that, I suppose?"
Inspector Smart nodded.
"So I tried to help them. put them in touch with people who could employ them."
"Got them into the drug trading business?"asked the Inspector.
Major Ferndale shook his head. "I bought opium off them, but they got into drug pushing when they got back to the UK. A lot of men came back with a drug habit."
"So did you know they were responsible for the murder of Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde?"
The Major groaned. "No I didn't but I suppose I should have guessed."
"So who did you put them in touch with at the Town Council?"asked Inspector Smart.
"Sterne. I thought he might have some jobs for them, even if it was only collecting litter. You don't think he's behind this business do you?"
Twenty Eighth Instament
In the car on the way back to the police station,I asked the Inspector "Do you think Major Ferndale's telling the truth?"
He sighed."The problem is we've no evidence against any of the councillors, or Sterne. We can form a case against Mick and Bill but that's it."
I thought about this and considered it unsatisfactory. I hadn't forgotten finding poor Lizzie Wilde's body, with her face smashed in, or talking to Sam Taylor's mother after his death. Mick Baker and Bill Fields might be the actual murderers abut I wanted the person who put them up to it brought to justice too.
We arrived at Sterne's house early next morning, accompanied by the technical team but not the armed response unit. We weren't expecting trouble. It was barely light, so I couldn't make out many details of the building from the road, but it looked substantial, probably Victorian. The garden had a big old tree in the centre.
"I've checked, Sir," I told the Inspector. "The house has been in the family for generations."
We banged on the door without response for a while. At last, Sterne opened the door, unshaved and wearing a tartan dressing gown.
"I don't know what right you've got to get people up at this hour of the morning."
"We've wanted to ask you about Mick Baker and Bill Fields. We've arrested them for the murders of Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde."
Sterne visibly flinched, then recovered himself. "That's nothing to do with me."
"We've got a warrant," said Inspector Smart and pushed the door wide enough to allow him entry. "Nice place you've got here."
There had been an obvious effort to bring the old house up to modern standards. We stood in a tall, narrow hall, with a wood floor and subtly patterned wallpaper, but I could see a flat screen TV in a room which opened off to the right. Reluctantly, Sterne led us into the room and sat in a chintz covered rocking chair. The Inspector and I sat on a sofa opposite.
"When did you meet Bill Fields and Mick Baker?" inspector Smart asked.
"I've never met them, "insisted Sterne.
"Major Ferndale says he introduced them to you in the hope you could give them some work."
Sterne shrugged. "People were always asking for work with the Town Council. I can't remember them all."
The Inspector changed direction. "We know you ran up gambling debts and yet you live in a nice house like this. I think you met Bill and Mick but instead of you giving them a job, they got you involved in the drug smuggling business. It was a nice little earner for you."
"You can search my house if you like, Inspector. You won't find any drugs."
"No. That's because they were stored in an old pub Bill Fields was renovating. Two old pubs to be more precise. His business appeared to be doing up these old pubs but he was actually storing drugs there. But you know that, of course."
Sterne shifted in his chair. I suspected he was getting rattled but he assumed a languid calm. "Perhaps you should write fiction, Inspector."
Inspector Small shook his head. "There were several sets of fingerprints in the old White Hart pub, Mr Sterne. We can easily check if one of them was yours."
"I want my lawyer," Sterne said.
"So lets get this straight, " the Inspector insisted. "Sam Taylor was working on the pub renovation and he saw the drugs. Bill Fields or Mick Baker offered him some cannabis to keep him quiet. But then he met you there and thought he could blackmail you. So you ordered him killed."
Sterne sat in silence for a while, crossing and uncrossing his ankles. "You can't prove any of this," he said at last.
Inspector Small stood up. "I'm arresting you on suspicion of murdering Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde, as well as dealing in illegal drugs."
Twenty Ninth instalment
When the results came back from the lab, they proved Inspector Smart right. DNA found on the bodies of Sam Taylor and Lizzie Wilde matched that of Mick Baker and Bill Fields. Fingerprints at the old White Hart matched those of Stephen Sterne. Before we got the results, the suspects had been before the Magistrate's court to be remanded in custody. To Inspector Smart's fury, they'd granted Sterne bail. Faced with the evidence, Mick Baker owned up. The Inspector and I went to see him in prison and found him looking drawn and ill.
"We didn't mean to get involved in any murders," said Mick, coughing. " That was Sterne's doing."
"You mean he told you he wanted Sam Taylor killed?" asked the Inspector.
Mick nodded. " Sam Taylor was trying to blackmail him. So Sterne promised to meet him in the Council Chamber with the money but we were waiting for him."
"What about Lizzie?"
"He said she'd seen too much, so we took her out too." Mick stopped speaking for a while and shook his head, as if to dispel an unpleasant image. "I didn't want to kill her. She wasn't much more than a girl, but Bill didn't care. He's hard, is Bill."
I wondered whether this was true. It's very easy, when you're being questioned by the police, to blame your partners in crime.
"What about the drugs? Was Sterne involved in dealing?" asked the Inspector.
" No, he wouldn't touch the stuff himself." Mick stopped speaking and coughed for a while before resuming. " Sterne put us in contact with people. He got his councillor friend - Pat he called her - to grow cannabis. He arranged for her stuff to be collected. And he got us access to a couple of pubs that had been closed. He put it about that we were renovating them. It gave us the chance to store stuff there and to come in and out without too many questions being asked."
Inspector Smart came out of the interview looking thoughtful. "It does make you wonder doesn't it? Blokes like Mick and Bill - you can understand them becoming criminals. They had a pretty tough upbringing both of them, and you remember what the Major said about soldiers coming back from Afghanistan?"
I nodded.
"But Sterne was educated, middle class. He'd had a decent job in the Civil Service. He's got no excuse in my mind. Yet the Magistrates granted him bail. Because he was respectable. Respectable my foot."
I smiled but, as we drove back to Aldermede, I wondered about the communties we live in and the way they value people. I'd thought Aldermede was a pretty decent place, but it turned out the Town Council was full of people who were prepared to trade in drugs and to use violence for their own ends. I don't know what it proves really, except that you need to look past the clothes and the accent and look at the person's heart. Not easy that.
Thirtieth Instalment
The next day, I went to see Lance in hospital. I even took him a bunch of grapes - the traditional gift. I found him sitting up, with a shoulder bandaged and looking a bit pale. It was good to see him smile as I came in.
"Wounded in the cause of duty,"I said. "That makes you a hero - at least that's what the press is calling you."
He gave a lop-sided grin. "I was just in the wrong place. I guess Inspector Smart's the real hero."
I nodded. "He kept going. He looked exhausted some of the time but he got there in the end."
Lance looked at me, as if he wanted to say something that was troubling him. "You know, my girlfriend wants me to quit the police".
"Quit?" I gasped. "Surely not""
"She says its too dangerous and the hours are too long."
I thought about that. True, police work can be dangerous and it can be a slog, but no two days are exactly the same. This case had been hard and we'd seen some horrible things. The image of Lizzie Wilde's body still haunted me. But I couldn't imagine working in an office every day, plodding through piles of paper or just gazing at a computer screen. And the police are supposed to serve the community , although some people think we're against them. Not just making airline trolleys like Jeremy Newland. I could claim to have helped smash a drugs ring and arrested three murderers. Surely that was worth doing.
"I'm not quitting the police" I said."Never."