Overend – A Year In Crime
Chapter Eight
Wednesday April 3rd 2002
Trevor Beardsmore was a local builder, as was his father, and he had a very good reputation and could pick and chose what work he would do.
He also had a reputation as a vehement anti smoker who had never indulged himself and treated anyone who had like a social leper. He had been known to turn down lucrative work because the clients were heavy smokers he was in short and obsessive and a bigot.
Bill stood on the patio watching Trevor re-pointing the north-facing wall of Bill’s house.
Then Sally came through the French doors holding a tray with two mugs of coffee and a plate of biscuits.
“Come and get your coffee Trevor.” Sally said.
“Ok.” Trevor answered and climbed down the ladder to join them.
He then sat down and took out a small decorous snuff box
And took a pinch up each nostril and sneezed loudly.
Bill woke suddenly at the sound of a commotion.
“For gods sake Danny why do you always have to do that?” Shouted Abi as he started down the stairs.
“Get a life.” Danny yelled continuing down the stairs.
“What on earth is going on?” Bill interrupted stepping on to the landing.
“Its Danny he’s left his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, none of the towels are hung up and he left the toilet seat up again.”
“What is it with women and bloody toilet seats?” He asked.
“Learn to work the bloody toilet seat Abi. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it
down.”
She was about to protest.
“I will deal with Danny.” He said putting his hand up to stop her.
She turned on her heals and went into her room slamming the door behind her.
By the time she had realized that her dramatic exit had taken her into her bedroom and not the bathroom it was too late.
Bill had beaten her to it.
He ran himself a bath and had a leisurely soak there was in his opinion nothing like wallowing in your own filth for half an hour.
Showers were very convenient and time saving but you cant relax in a shower.
Even the sound of Abi banging doors and moaning to Sally would not spoil his enjoyment.
Ordinarily he didn’t have time for a bath in the morning and he would have to make do with a shower but this morning Tom Adamson was picking him up and they were driving over to Millmoor to interview big Cyril’s cashier.
Having finished his leisurely ablutions Bill put his dressing gown on and opened the door and was almost knocked off his feet as Abi came rushing in the opposite direction.
“I thought you were never coming out.” She said crossly.
“What’s the rush? Where are you off to today anyway?
“I’m going shopping this afternoon with Yvonne and Carrie.”
“So what’s the rush you have all morning to get ready?”
“You don’t just turn up and shop you know? There’s a lot more to it that that.”
“Abi, Shopping is NOT a sport.” Bill said. “Shopping is just shopping.”
“You are such a man.” Abi said looking down her nose and closed the door.
Driving to Millmoor from Chapel Hill took them through some the most beautiful English countryside.
The weather was as different as it was possible to be from the previous day with the wind and rain had been replaced by bright spring sunshine.
The only evidence of the previous days deluge were the area’s of standing water in the fields and on the low lying points in the lanes.
As they drove down the winding lanes of the steep hill from Upper Oakham down to the predicable named village of Lower Oakham the came across a young girl in the middle of the lane calmly trying to control a large chestnut horse,
They pulled to a stop a safe distance behind the pair and watched as she skillfully maneuvered the horse backwards and brought it to a stop and then tried to proceed again.
When the horse and rider reached the same spot the chestnut reared again and again the rider deftly maneuvered the beast away.
When the young rider had again calmed the horse she edged it gingerly forward but the horse skirted whatever it could see and trotted sideways as if it were avoiding a hole in the ground and once the invisible evil was behind it the horse proceeded calmly on its way.
Bill released the handbrake and eased the car forward giving them both a wide berth and as they passed horse and rider the young girl smiled and waved in appreciation of their patience.
Watching the girl on the horse reminded him of the first time he met Sally.
He was a probationer straight out of Hendon walking a rural beat in a village not unlike the Oakham’s when a horse and rider became separated.
The young woman riding was unseated and broke her ankle and although she was unable to stand she had the presence of mind to keep hold of the reigns.
Neither Bill nor the rider knew what had spooked the horse but they could both see plainly that the horse wasn’t calming any.
Bill’s knowledge of horse’s was restricted to watching the Grand National on television, old John Wayne movies on the Sunday matinee and a dodgy steak he had on a day trip to Calais three years previously.
It was at this point that Sally appeared in her car and she walked slowly up to the snorting creature and after a few soothing words she was leading the horse by the head out of the road.
The young woman mesmerized Bill for a few minutes and then he came to his senses and galvanized into action and got the traffic flowing again.
He took Sally’s name and address, for the police report obviously, and a week later they were going on their first date.
Millmoor was once a Military town, well actually it was always an army town, until the defense cuts.
Now the quarters had been refurbished and sold to eager would be home owner’s.
The old parade grounds had been dug up and replaced with new shoe-box like dwellings in the modern style.
The garages, workshops, barracks and Stores buildings were now occupied by small business’s.
Millmoor had retained the Aerospace Britannia company which was a huge employer in the area but the town missed the peripheral business which a military establishment brings to a town.
Consequently the town of Millmoor was not as prosperous as it had been, their former Football League club had gone bankrupt and is now two divisions below Abbottsford.
Having said all that it was not an unpleasant place to be and the people did not live in abject poverty.
Bill indicated and turned into Montgomery road and then right into Churchill Court, The small neat house’s were arranged in tidy formations like platoons of soldiers on a parade ground.
Bill drove into a small car park and took the remaining space, which was right outside Sue Yardell’s house.
They knocked at the front door, which was opened by a scruffy little man in his forties with unkempt greasy black hair and a paunch.
The man didn’t speak.
“DCI Overend and Inspector Adamson to see Mrs. Yardell.” Bill said as both of them presented there warrant cards.
“Miss.” The Man grunted.
“I beg your pardon?” Said Bill.
“Miss Yardell she ain’t married.”
“Could we see Miss Yardell then please?” Tom interjected.
“You’d better come in I suppose.” He said begrudgingly.
The front door opened straight into a small open planned lounge and at the far end of the room was the kitchen.
Just as the unfriendly little man closed the door a woman of similar age came down the stairs.
She clearly took more pride in her appearance than the greasy little man behind them.
“Miss Yardell? Detective Chief Inspector Overend Abbottsford CID.” He said “And this is Detective Inspector Adamson.”
“Thank you for coming.” She held out her hand and both men shook it. “It was kind of you to see me here and not at the station.”
“Please sit down.” She pointed to the sofa. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“A black coffee for me please.” Bill replied “No sugar.”
She looked at Tom.
“A white coffee, two sugars thanks.” Tom said sitting next to Bill.
She gave the little man a hard stare and he disappeared into the kitchen.
“How’s Cyril? And Emily?” She asked with real concern.
“Mrs. Curtis is comfortable at home still under sedation.” Bill answered. “Cyril’s still in a bad way and he hasn’t yet regained consciousness.”
“Poor old sod.” She said sadly.
“You like him.” Suggested Bill.
“Its difficult not to like Cyril.” She said “And I’ve known him a long time over twenty years I’ve worked for him.”
The drinks arrived and were distributed.
“So take your time and tell us what happened.” Tom asked note pad and pen in hand.
“You don’t have answer there questions Sue.” The malignant dwarf interrupted.
“Colin take your drink upstairs and leave us in peace.” She said sternly.
He snorted gave both of the policeman a look of disgust and went slowly up the stairs.
When he had gone and she heard the upstairs door close she spoke.
“He can be a miserable little bugger sometimes but he is my brother, so what can you do?”
“Your brother?” Bill said a little too surprised.
“God you didn’t think that he and I were…” she paused. “A couple?”
She laughed heartily.
“He’s just got divorced and he’s staying with me for a while.” She leant forward and whispered “Not much longer God willing.” And smiled.
“He seems a little hostile.” Tom suggested.
“That’s because his wife went off with a policeman.” She said. “Its nothing personal he just hates all policemen now.”
Bill nodded sagely.
“Now back to business.” She said pulling herself together. “I arrived at the shop about eight thirty.”
“Was that your normal time?” Asked Tom.
“No not on a Tuesday.” She took a sip of her Tea. “We opened later after the Bank holiday Monday.”
“The front door was shut but unlocked, this isn’t unusual with Cyril he forgets sometimes. So I opened the door and walked in.”
She took another drink.
“I called out to Cyril as I walked through the shop I called him a silly old bugger for not locking the door.”
“Then I went into the office and….” She broke off as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Just take your time.” Bill said.
“Why did they have to beat him up like that?” She asked. “He’s a harmless old sod.”
She wiped her eyes and composed herself.
“Ok?” Asked Bill.
She nodded.
“I went into the office and he was tied to the chair and he’d been very badly beaten he was barely conscious. I took the tape off his mouth and began to untie him.”
“Then he said “Emily, Emily, they’ve got my Emily””
She took another mouthful of tea.
“I said where have they got Emily and he said “At the house””
“And that’s when I called the police and ambulance.”
“Was there much in the safe?” Tom asked.
“Oh yes, over ninety thousand.” She replied.
“Ninety thousand that’s a lot of money to keep in the safe.” Tom suggested.
“Well It was “Festival week” wasn’t it.” She replied.
“Festival week?” Queried Bill.
“The Tipton Festival.” Sue answered.
“Tipton Park racing festival we always do well at the festival, and it was even better this year with the last day falling on the Easter weekend.”
“Ninety thousand’s not a bad weeks work.” Bill suggested.
“No that was just Saturdays takings the rest of the weeks takings were banked daily.” She responded.
“So why didn’t he bank Saturdays?” Asked Tom.
“Cyril always goes to the course on the last day of the festival it’s the only day in the year now that he does what he calls “proper bookmaking”” Another pause.
“So it was late by the time he got back from the course so we could cash up.”
“Would you normally have that much cash in the safe over the weekend?” DI Adamson asked.
“No, only after the Festival.”
“Apart from you and Cyril who else knew there would be so much money in the safe?” DCI Overend asked.
“Emily of course and Mary.”
“Mary?” Said the DCI.
“Mary Weeks, assistant cashier.” Sue answered. “I’ve got her details in here.”
She picked up an A4 ring binder and handed it to Inspector Adamson.
“I have all the employees details in there including any who have left in the last five years.”
Tom opened the file and scanned a few of the pages.
“Thank you Miss Yardell this looks very comprehensive.” Tom said.
“I’m not the sort to sit around idle. I like to keep busy and it had occurred to me that it would be an incredible coincidence that we were robbed on the precise weekend when the safe was stuffed with cash.”
“They must have known before hand.” She said. “They must have.”
She glance across the room towards her PC.
“Cyril lets me work from home two days a week and I keep all the personnel files on there.”
“And I want you to get the bastards who did this.”
Then the efficient Miss Yardell produced a clear plastic wallet containing two A4 sheets of paper and handed it to the DCI.
“I assumed you would want a signed statement so I’ve done that also.”
“Well If only all of our witness’s were so cooperative.” Bill said standing and he then held out the statement and tapped it. “And efficient.”
Tom also stood up putting his notebook away as he did so.
The two men made their way out the door thanking their host as they went.
Once they were back in the car they looked at each other Tom was the first to break the silence.
“Well she was very helpful.”
“Too bloody helpful.” Bill replied.
After they had interviewed Sue Yardell they were hoping to interview Emily Curtis but a call from DS Boris Katarski put paid to that. She was still heavily sedated and it was unlikely she would be fit for interview the next day either.
Instead they decided to try Mary Weeks at the address Miss Yardell had provided.
The address was only about half a mile from where they were in a road named Normandy view which as was often the case these days failed to come anywhere near there expectations.
The view was in no way reminiscent of Normandy and as far as they could tell the only view was of other similar dwellings as the one they were visiting.
They were to be disappointed even further when nobody answered the ringing doorbell.
“Were not having much success guv.” Tom said.
“Success, Tom, is the ability to go from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm.” Bill said philosophically. “Lets get back to the office.”
The moment Overend arrived back in his office at the station he was confronted by the uniformed figure of Superintendent John Halpenny.
He was a less than popular man as he was the penny-pinching admin officer who was responsible for managing the overtime budget.
He was a slight figure with a ruddy complexion, curly brown hair
and boyish features which made it difficult to gauge his age.
He was in fact nearing forty-five a fact which would have surprised almost everyone.
He was an unpopular figure and was ridiculed mercilessly by all and sundry.
The main reason for his universal lack of popularity was that he was as mean as spit.
He was regarded as mean not only because as Administration officer he was constantly trying to balance the books and was always trying to cut the overtime budget but because he was equally miserly in his private life as well.
There was one occasion when he and his wife had moved to a new house.
Their next door neighbor had a number of plum trees in their back garden, all fully laden with fruit, and as Superintendent Halpenny made his own wine he approached the neighbors to ask if they might have some of the plums explaining that he was a wine maker.
The neighbor said he may have all the fruit he wanted as he was planning to remove all the trees over the Winter with the proviso that he might try some of the wine.
Several months went by and the neighbor had all but forgotten the arrangement over the fruit when there was a knock at the door.
It was John Halpenny and his wife Karen, John was holding a bottle of wine.
The first reaction of his neighbor was of disappointment because he was hoping for more than one bottle considering the amount of fruit they took away and then he thought that was churlish and a bottle of wine was an acceptable exchange.
His disappointment resurfaced again when John asked for three glass’s, the neighbor duly obliged and John pulled the cork and poured a small amount of wine into each glass.
The neighbor drank his miniscule sample of plum wine and was pleasantly surprised it was very palatable.
Then to his complete amazement Halpenny replaced the cork in the opened bottle of plum wine and with his wife left.
This story is typical of his level of meanness along with countless others from reusing unfranked postage stamps to only using 25w light bulbs in his house.
When he was a PC and on night duty at the end of his shift he would fill a vacumn flask with hot water so he wouldn’t have to boil the kettle at home during peak tariff.
His nickname at the station was Tu’penny Ha’penny and he was widely regarded to have
short arms and deep pockets.
Tom Adamson told everyone that they invented the 50 pence piece with John Halpenny in mind so they could get it out of his fist with a spanner.
“We need to discuss a few issues.” John Halpenny said
closing the door and sitting down.
“Ok Sir.” Bill answered even though he would have been happier to stick pins in his eyes.
Halpenny flipped open a file on his lap and took a pen from his pocket.
“You appear to be over strength by five officers.”
“I have one on long term sick leave one about to go on maternity leave and the other three are strictly a short term measure.” Bill responded.
“On temporary secondment, its all been fully sanctioned by Chief Superintendent Tiplady.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Halpenny said unhappily.
“I trust the overtime bill will come down to reflect the over manning, dramatically.” Halpenny said over emphasizing the last word.
“That will depend on criminal fraternity.”
“That’s not a good enough answer we need to address this problem.” Halpenny tapped his pen on the open file as if to underline the importance of the problem.
“What do you suggest I do.” Overend asked doing his best to suppress the urge to insert the pen into one of the Superintendent’s nasal orifice’s.
“You might try and persuade the pregnant one.” He glanced down at his file. “ Hack, not to come back!”
Bill just looked at him.
“And the sick one.” Halpenny looked down at his file again. “Blenkin, should be asked to resign. That would reduce the burden slightly.”
Bill said nothing for a minute he just stared at the wall.
“Are you serious?” Halpenny nodded.
“Do you have any comprehension of employment law?”
“I am well aware of the law Chief Inspector.”
“Then you should be well aware that you cant treat people like that.” Bill was on his feet and shouting.
“Jenny Hack and Chris Blenkin are human beings and NOT just names on a list or numbers in a ledger.”
“I think you should remember who you are talking to Chief Inspector.” Halpenny said shrinking back in his seat.
“Yes sir, I’m talking to a bloody idiot.”
Just then DC Jenny Hack knocked on the door and walked in carrying a piece of paper in her hand.
“I think you should see this Sir.” Jenny said handing the piece of paper to Overend.
“Thanks Jenny.” Bill said. “By the way Superintendent this is the pregnant one. Did you have any career advice for her?”
Halpenny did not acknowledge her presence so a little bemused she turned slowly and left just as Overend read the note.
“You have over stepped…” Halpenny began.
“You don’t need to worry about Chris Blenkin. I’m sure he wont be a burden to you much longer.” Bill threw the note on to Halpenny’s lap and left.
The note was a hand written message from Chris Blenkin’s partner Ray Hogan.
The treatment Chris was having had failed and he was being moved to a Hospice and he had only a matter of weeks rather than months to live.
When DCI Overend lost his cool he liked to disappear from sight for ten minutes or so to calm down now in a busy modern station it was difficult to find a quiet corner.
But Bill Overend new that there were some places quieter than others which is why at times like these he always took himself off to Sergeant Steve Holloway’s little office in the Custody suite. Custody suite was a euphemistic term for the row of six cells and an open area with a long raised counter where the miscreants were brought in and processed.
But behind the counter was a door way which led to custody Sergeant Steve Holloway’s office.
Office was rather a grand description for what was in actuality a large cupboard.
The cupboard was shelved, floor to ceiling, on two sides and the remaining space was occupied by two office chairs and a table.
The latter, containing a tray with tea and coffee making paraphernalia.
Bill always referred to it as sanctuary because you could sit in the corner of the windowless office with a cup of coffee and no one would know he was there.
Steve was a good man, ex army, a hard working conscientious copper of the old school with only two years left until he retired. He wore a full beard slightly graying and gold framed half moon reading glass’s which he could peer over in an intimidating manner to any troublesome prisoner.
It was quiet in the charge room today so Steve was occupying the other chair and stirring sugar into his tea.
“So what’s driven you to visit my humble abode this time Guv?” Steve asked.
“Tu’peeny Ha’penny.” Bill replied flatly.
“Ah.” And Sgt. Holloway nodded as if he’d just been enlightened by an eastern mystic.
No sooner had he returned from his sojourn and got rid of most of his ill feeling toward Halpenny than he was summoned to Chief Superintendent Tiplady’s office.
But before he made his way upstairs he was briefed by, DI Tom Adamson, where everyone was and how investigations were progressing.
“Who do you want to relieve Tunstall at the Churchill guv?” Tom asked.
“Do you want Khan to stay again tonight? He’s up for it.”
“No give him a night off.” Overend answered after a moment. “Send “wingnut” um I mean DC Webster.”
“I heard that Guv.” Said Webster.
“I’m not surprised with ears like that.” Said the DCI.
Webster walked away smiling.
“Get Marty Griffin to relieve Webster in the morning.” Bill said walking to the door. “Hopefully Cyril will regain consciesnous soon.”
Bill knocked on Tiplady’s door smartly and walked in.
“Come in Bill.” Tiplady said. “Sit down.”
“Ha’penny didn’t waste any time.” Bill said as he sat down.
“What?”
“I assume Ha’penny’s put in a complaint.”
“About what?”
“For calling him an idiot.”
“But he is an idiot.”
“Well I should apologize sir, I should not have called a senior officer an idiot.”
“Well just consider yourself Bollocked.” Said Tiplady.
“Thanks guv.” Said Overend. “So why have you summoned me?”
“Because there has been a complaint.”
“From whom?” Asked Bill.
“Detective Constable Tunstall.” Replied Tiplady.
“Tunstall? What’s her problem?”
“She complaining about her assignments.” Said the Chief Superintendent picking up a sheet of A4 paper. “She spent a whole day reading through computer printouts with a unfriendly officer and is today being sent to spend the day nursemaiding an old man at the hospital.”
Bill tried to interrupt but Tiplady put up a hand to stop him.
“She’s complaining about the “unbearable stress” she is being put under.”
He put down the sheet.
“Stress? Is she having a bloody laugh?” Bill asked incredulously. “She’s only been here a day and a half.”
Tiplady pointed at the letter again.
“She goes on about feelings of discrimination because of her sexuality, gender and her color.”
“Has she got a chip on her bloody shoulder, or what?”
“She doesn’t have enough shoulders for all the chips she has.” Tiplady replies. “We need to watch this one.”
“What do you want me to do George?”
“I certainly don’t want you to make exceptions for her.”
Tiplady replied. “But we need to make sure that she isn’t asked to do anything that no one else on the squad has been asked to do.”
Bill nodded.
“She’s going to be trouble this one. So we need to be smart and make sure she cocks up and not us.”
“I think she’s the product of our litigation culture and is looking for a big payout, lets dissappoint her.”
“I have to respond to this.” He said picking up the letter. “Otherwise she will just go over my head as she already has with you.”
They spent the next half an hour discussing Louise Tunstall’s short career on Overend’s squad and composed a reply to her complaint.
