Overend – A Year In Crime
Chapter Seven
Tuesday April 2nd 2002
It was the morning of the second of April and it was raining, but not April showers, no it was raining hard and had been for hours.
The reception desk was manned as usual by Sergeant George Frank and his countenance was as miserable as the weather.
It had often been suggested that he would be best employed on point duty as he had a face that would stop traffic.
On this particular April morning, as the Sergeant stood stirring his mug of tea with his back to door, a small-agitated woman bustled in to the reception area, unnoticed, mumbling to herself under her breath.
The lady in question was Mrs. Norma Dowie a well-dressed widow in her late sixties.
When Sergeant Frank turned round and saw the Lady he turned back and put his mug down and sighed heavily.
He then turned back to the counter and picked up his pen.
“Yes Madam,” He said flatly “Can I help you?”
“Um well, oh I’m not sure really.” She said.
“Your not sure I can help? Or your not sure if you have come to the right place?” The Sergeant asked wishing she’d go away so he could drink his tea in peace.
“Oh yes.” She said positively.
George Frank was confused the answer didn’t seem to fit either of the questions, he thought he had better persevere.
“So the problem is?” He asked hopefully.
“Its Mary.”
“Mary?” The Sergeant queried
“Yes”
“What about Mary?” He asked.
“I think she’s missing.”
“And when did you last see Mary?” He Asked feeling he was now getting somewhere and might yet get to drink his tea before it went stone cold.
“A week ago.” She answered worriedly.
“Ok madam can I take your name?” The Sergeant asked
“Oh yes,” She smiled nervously, “Mrs. Norma Dowie.”
“Ok Mrs. Dowie if you would like to take a seat over there,” He gestured to a row of empty seats, “And I’ll get someone to take your details.”
In the squad room it was less than a normal Tuesday morning.
The foul weather had made almost everyone late and it was also the first day, in the squad, for the new people.
Detective Chief Inspector Bill Overend stood in the middle of the large open planned office in front of the assembled members of the squad.
Katarski, at the back of the room, was talking to Jimmy Pidd and Frank Chute.
The subject of their discussion was Constable Richard Deacon, the pencil thin over enthuiastic, but none the less likable young PC.
“I saw Sticky Deacon at the Cavalier Club on Saturday night with a woman.” Said Katarski.
“I find that difficult to believe.” Responded Pidd. “Unless it was his sister.”
“Well there was a lot of hand holding and kissing.” Katarski offered.
“It could still be his sister.” Said Frank Chute laughing.
“Was she a good looker?” Asked Pidd.
“No, she had definitely fallen from the ugly tree.” Replied Boris pulling a face. “And she must have hit every branch on the way down.”
The three men laughed loudly.
“Beauty is only skin deep.” Said little Jenny Hack joining the group.
“Then she had her skin on inside out.” Said Boris and they laughed again.
“You’re a horrible man Boris Katarski.” Jenny said smiling in spite of herself.
“Love is blind you know.” She said walking away.
“If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?” Boris asked.
“Jenny could you go down to the front desk and take details from a” Bill Overend consulted his note book “Mrs. Dowie, it’s a missing person.”
“Yes Guv.” Answered Jenny.
“Quick as you can I don’t want her left with happy Harry for too long.
She smiled broadly. “Yes Guv.”
“Ok quiet down now.” Interrupted Overend. “I’m sorry we’re late getting started and as we need to get on I will make this as brief as possible.”
Bill Overend was having to assign the two new appointee’s and the three secondments to the squad.
“We have two new officers joining the squad today, firstly DC Louise Tunstall, (Louise Tunstall, twenty-seven, five foot eight, two stone overweight, a facial expression that would sour milk and absolutely nothing in her record to suggest she would be anything other than a pain in the arse.) Louise will join your team Boris.” Bill paused while nods and smiles were exchanged. “And secondly DC Ali Khan, (Ali khan was a different story, a good military record, thirty years old, six foot tall married to, Gabby, a nurse at the Churchill. Even without fast tracking he would have made the grade.) Ali will join your team Tom.”
“Hi ho silver.” Shouted Boris.
Word had obviously already circulated about Khan’s military past.
“Thank you Boris.” Said Overend over the laughter. “And posse.”
“In addition we have acquired the services of three more familiar faces on temporary secondment Marty Griffin (Marty Griffin was a wiry character much like a younger version of Tom Adamson but with brown hair.
Twenty-seven years old and another solid by the book copper who would if he kept himself out of trouble make the squad permanently.
He was a single man, and though he liked the lass’s more than was good for him, his most serious fault was gambling which was bordering on addiction.) Marty is another one for Tom Adamson’s team.
Phillipa Mead (Phillipa Mead was a plain emaciated looking girl, stick thin with straight shoulder length blonde hair and as she never wore make up at work she looked five years older than the twenty-six she actually was but she had the most stunning eyes.
She also wore masculine looking clothes to work leading people to suppose her to be a lesbian.
They couldn’t be more wrong
Even though her features were plain there was something about her that shone through from within as a result she was never short of a date not because she was an easy lay but because she was good company she had in fact only had four lovers in her life.
There was no one special in her life at present.
If anyone ever saw her outside of work she would never be recognized.
She definitely scrubbed up very nicely.) Phillipa will be with Tilly Donnally’s team and lastly Dave Webster (Dave Webster was a short stocky twenty-eight year old hard working copper a bit to eager to please for some peoples taste but the fact he was included in Overends squad, however temporary, was testament to his usefulness. He was married to Debbie, a firefighter, for two years.
He had two distinguishing features, a rather frowny countenance with a habit of staring intently. The combination of the stare and the frown were known as the “Paddington stare” and it had proved to be a useful tool where criminal were concerned.
His other distinguishing features were his protruding ears.)
Dave I’m afraid you’re stuck with Boris.”
“Oh no guv now we’re going to need to fit bay window in the motor to accommodate his jug ears.”
The telephone rang in the Chief Inspectors office and Tom Adamson went in and answered it.
“Sir” he put his head round the door and caught Bills attention. “It’s the CAD* room.”
Bill nodded.
“Ok take ten minutes for introductions and such like then back here for assignments.” He turned and walked into his office.
After what seemed to be only a matter of seconds Overend reappeared looking grave.
“Ok can I have some attention please?” Overend shouted.
“There’s been an armed robbery in Millmoor.”
He now had their attention.
“Tilly?”
“Sir” DS Donnally responded.
“Tilly, you Khan and Griffin get over to big Cyril’s betting shop in Millmoor and take statements. DI Adamson and myself will follow.”
“Yes sir.” They chorused and left.
“Boris and Frank you head over too Roespring village and interview Mrs.Curtis, she was held at gunpoint while they made big Cyril open the safe.”
“Ok sir.” Responded Katarski.
“Guv.” Said DC Chute.
“Gracie I need you over at Olympic rattling their chain for the vetting info.”
“Yes Guv.” Answered DC Suddaby.
“Ben I want you to check out a pub called the “Fox and Flowerpot” in Finchbottom. Don’t idendify yourself as police we may wish to stake it out later, there’s been a report of illegal gambling.”
“Sir” Ben Clubley slowly rose to his feet sluggishly.
“Jimmy and Pip,” he paused briefly to consult his notes, “Cliffords Biscuits were turned over last night, the owner is on site and is probably not a happy cookie.”
“On our way sir.” Said DC Pidd, DC Mead was already halfway to the door.
“Right that leaves you two,” He addressed Tunstall and Webster. “Rostas from Olympic for the late lamented Tony Conway, check through the list and compare the locations and clients he visited with crime sheets, Inspector Adamson will show you what’s what.”
With that he turned to go back to his office.
“Chief Inspector?” Called Louise Tunstall managing to spit the words out like bile.
Bill Overend turned back to face her.
“Yes? Constable Tunstall.” He inquired. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes Sir.” She managed to make the word Sir sound the opposite of its meaning.
“I would much rather work with a woman than a man.” She said looking at DC Webster with visible disdain.
“And I would prefer an assignment that got me out of the office.”
“Really? That’s the way you feel?” He asked calmly.
DC Webster covered his eyes and cringed.
“Yes Sir it is.” Again she managed to instill the maximum disrespect in such a small sentence.
“Inspector Adamson?” He said
Tom stopped what he was doing and turned his attention to Bill.
“Sir.”
“Detective Constable Tunstall is unhappy with the assignments. What would you suggest I say to her?” He queried.
Tom thought for a second.
“Well Sir, I think you should say, “Get out of my sight and get on with the assignment you have been given. If at some time in the future you prove to be of some use to this squad you may earn the right to question assignments but that day, if it comes at all, is a very long way off.””
Tunstall having recoiled at Adamson’s remarks turned on her heels and left.
“Well put Tom. I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
They both looked at Webster who was smiling.
“Would you like to add anything Detective Constable Webster?” Asked Overend.
“Oh no.” Webster shook his head and put his hand up in front of him like he was stopping traffic. “No, no.”
Jenny Hack held open the security door while Mrs. Dowie stepped sprightly through into a dimly lit corridor.
“I’ve never been in a police station before dear.” She said with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
“Well I promise we will let you out again Mrs. Dowie.” Said Jenny.
“Oh, Thank you dear.” She said with a nervous laugh. “Please call me Norma dear.”
Jenny directed her into a small room halfway along the corridor.
The room was much brighter than the corridor they had just left and Norma relaxed instantly.
The room was brightly decorated and furnished with several soft furnished chairs.
“This is very nice dear, not at all like the telly.” Norma said clearly impressed.
“Well Norma, this room is for informal interviews not for the hardened criminals.” Jenny smiled and motioned Norma to one of the empty chairs.
Norma sat down and perched on the edge of the seat holding her handbag neatly on her lap as Jenny attempted to lower herself, with a total lack of grace and style in the seat opposite.
“Do you need any help dear?” Mrs. Dowie asked.
“No I’m fine thanks.” She answered finally completing her maneuver. “I might need some help to get up again though.”
They both laughed.
“Now then Norma.” Jenny said desperately trying to regain an air of professionalism.
“Lets have some details.”
“Yes dear.” She said smiling.
“Stop it Norma I’m supposed to be a fine example of efficient modern policing.”
“Yes dear.”
When Jenny and Norma had finally composed themselves they went on to the inevitable baby talk, when was it due, what are you hoping for boy or girl, will it be breast or bottle and so on and so forth.
When they had finished with the small talk Jenny got back to the business in hand.
“Well Norma we had better press on with this report.” She said tapping the note pad on her lap.
Norma nodded in agreement.
“What was your friends name?”
“Mary.” Norma replied. “Mary Herbert.”
Detective Constable’s Jimmy Pidd and Pip Mead had worked together on many occasions in the past and they got on well.
Also they complimented each other he with his analytical mind and she with her razor sharp instinct.
The only bone of contention between them was the driving.
They both hated to drive, this was very unusual, as normally partners fight over who gets the keys.
They had tried a number of ways to determine who got lumbered with the driving such as, Paper Stone Scissors, Arm wrestling or tossing a coin but they never worked as they both had a propensity to cheat.
So they decided the fairest way was one of them would drive there and the other would drive on the return journey.
Today Jimmy Pidd was driving and there was only one thing he hated more than driving and that was driving in the rain.
At least Clifford’s was in Abbottsford’s only about three miles from the station.
Clifford’s biscuits, was an old family business established in 1879 by Robert Sebastian Clifford and currently run by his Great-Great Grandson Donald.
They had moved to there present location in Abbottsford’s in 1928.
The two DC’s presented their warrant cards to the Olympic security guard and were waved through the main gate and directed to the reception.
The broad white building was a great example of the art deco style with its angles, curves and symmetry.
DC Pidd got out of the car and paused for a moment, despite the rain, in appreciation of the stylish building.
“What a great building.” Said Jimmy.
“Yes its very.. white.” Said DC Mead running towards the building.
“You’re a philistine Pip.” Pidd said running after her.
Initially Grace Suddaby was a little miffed that she had been sent on a minor errand while there was an armed robbery to investigate.
But as she drove through the rain and spray it occurred to her that she might yet strike lucky as there was no way of knowing where this vetting info might lead.
Then self-doubt began to set in, was she hoping for connections that probably weren’t there to compensate her for the disappointment of being sent to see Derek Elphick.
She chastised herself for being so foolish.
Then she pulled up to the security barrier at Olympic security in Northchapel.
She wound down her window and showed her warrant card.
“Do you have an appointment?” Asked the guard.
“I don’t need an appointment.” She turned her full gaze on him. “Open the barrier.”
“You’ll need an escort…” He began.
“I know the way, now are you going to open the gate or not?”
Pidd and Mead walked into reception and were greeted by a middle aged balding man in a smart suit.
“Good morning.” He said offering his hand. “Peter Frecknell assistant manager.”
“Good morning sir, I’m DC Pidd.” Jimmy said shaking the offered hand.
“And this is DC Mead.” He said gesturing toward Philippa.
“Sir.” She said also shaking hands.
“Would you like to see the scene of the crime now.” He said relishing the change of routine.
“Afterwards I will take you through to the conference room Mr. Clifford would like meet you before you leave.” And he turned and led them up the stairs.
As Grace walked quickly towards the ugly two storey 1960’s prefab which passed as the main Olympic office building a thought suddenly occurred to her.
She took shelter in the entrance of the building and reached into her pocket and took out her mobile and selecting a number from the address book she dialled.
“Hello DC Pidd.” The voice answered.
“Hi Jimmy you can drop the posh telephone voice.” She said.
“Oh its you Gracie I thought it was someone important.” Retorted Jimmy. “What’s up?”
“Are you at Clifford’s yet?” She asked.
“Yes, just.”
“Do you know who does the security there?”
“Well the gate house is manned by Olympic guards.” He answered slightly puzzled.
“That’s great thanks Jimmy, I’ll fill you in later.” She rang off.
Detective Sergeant Mathilda Donnally was named after her Grandmother, whom she loved greatly her name however she hated with a passion.
Which was why she went by the name of Tilly, only her mother dared call her Matilda, even her Grandmother preferred to be called Mattie.
She was a fiery character with sparkling green eyes. She was blessed with a sharp incisive mind and cursed a quick temper.
Her tall slender frame in full flight with her flame red trailing behind her and her flashing green eyes was an exhilarating site.
The only thing more exhilarating was her driving although in truth it was more terrifying than exhilarating.
Marty Griffin was in the passenger side and he had his left hand on the door handle and his right hand gripping the underside of his seat.
Oh yes and his eyes screwed tight shut.
Ali Khan was in the middle of the back seat and braced himself with one hand on the back of each of the front seats.
Khan’s eyes were wide open and filled with terror this was his first experience of Tilly’s driving.
Sergeant Donnally turned the wheel violently to the left and shot across both lanes of the dual carriage way and onto the slip road, sign posted Millmoor; in one motion Ali Khan suppressed a scream.
After several more stomach-churning maneuvers Tilly screeched the car to a halt, half on the pavement, in front of a small parade of seven shops the middle one being Big Cyril’s betting shop.
Tilly was out of the car and striding towards the bookies, as Khan and Griffin struggled out of the car, once Marty had regained the use of his legs he turned to khan.
“You know I think she’s getting better.” He said encouragingly patting Khan on the back.
“Definitely.”
He walked gingerly in the directing DS Donnally took.
Khan remained leaning on the car oblivious to the fact he was getting wet.
Mr. Elphick was an odious little man reminiscent of the Dickensian figure Uriah Heep.
He had a habit of wringing his hands together as he mentally undressed any female who happened to be in view and salivated excessively.
Then there was also a problem with his complexion, he always had an erupting spot or two somewhere on his face, he also used far less deodorant than was needed for the job and he broke wind a lot more than was healthy.
“Ah Constable Suddaby how delightful it is to see you again. I’m afraid we haven’t quite got everything together yet.
If only you’d phoned ahead I could have saved you a journey.” He said Heep like.
Grace was just waiting for him to say how “ever so umble” he was.
She grimaced as a new wave of odour ebbed in her direction and her patience snapped.
“Mr. Elphick stop pissing me about.” She rounded on him and he shrunk away.
“I have been waiting now for two weeks and all I have from you is excuses.”
She stepped forward and he shrank away further.
“Do I have to get a warrant?”
“Do I need to shut you down while we tear this place apart?”
“Or do I need to notify all your customers that you have a security breach.”
“Perhaps your aware that Clifford’s was turned over last night?” Elphick turned a shade paler and broke wind.
“I’ll get it sorted now.” He responded meekly. “Five minutes.”
He held up five digits and ran up stairs.
“The clocks running.” She shouted after him.
DS Boris Katarski was the joker of the squad and he was always cracking jokes in an effort to be popular and to mask his insecurity if he only knew that everyone liked him anyway they couldn’t help themselves.
No one ever stayed mad with Boris for long not even Tilly.
On this filthy morning as they drove through the English countryside towards Roespring village DC Frank Chute was a captive audience for his wit.
“So remember Frank, when you have your prostate checked make sure when the doctor’s stood behind you he hasn’t got a hand on each shoulder,”
Frank had a rich deep fruity laugh and his whole body shook.
“Enough Boris.” Frank said gripping his sides. “Enough I cant take anymore.”
Boris smiled broadly and returned his attention to the road.
Once Frank had got his breath back and he had composed himself he said.
“Boris?”
“Yes mate.”
“Norma and I would really like you to be Godfather to Jevan.”
“Really?” Boris turned to look at Frank.
Frank nodded.
“I’m not much of a church goer “Hatches matches and dispatches”
Is about my lot.”
“We didn’t chose you for your religious convictions Boris.”
“Me and Norma will provide religious guidance.” Said Frank sincerely. “And you will protect him from evil.”
Boris looked doubtful.
“Failing that you can just make him laugh.” Frank smiled broadly.
“You Bastard.”
“Is that a yes then?”
Elphick came sheepishly down the stairs still giving another excellent Uriah Heep impression.
“The boxes are ready for you now Constable Suddaby.”
“How many boxes?” He said surprised shed only expected a couple of box files. “What size?”
“Two, archive boxes.”
“Well I’ll go and get the car while you get a couple of your strapping lads to bring the boxes out to me.” Gracie announced. “Ok?”
After Pidd and Mead had been shown the suspected point of entry and Mr. Frecknell had given them a tour of the offices, which were in good order save for the power leads and data cables trailing to and from non-existent PC’s, Printers, and Scanners etc.
The factory operated Twenty-four hours a day seven days a week but the main offices were seldom used after six PM.
They were then covered by CCTV and monitored from the security building located by the main gate.
The offices were patrolled on foot every two hours through the night from eight PM to Eight AM.
The burglary occurred between six and eight. The intruders managed to bypass the alarm system and they were somehow able to override the CCTV feeding back recorded images to security while they stripped the place bare.
They interviewed staff but no one remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary.
Then they were shown into the conference room to meet Donald Clifford.
Walking into the long grandly decorated room with a huge twenty-four foot long mahogany topped conference table they saw an immaculately dressed man of sixty standing at the far end.
“Good morning, officers.” He said walking towards them.
He was wearing a high quality hand made suit and expensive Italian shoes. His hand made silk tie probably cost more than Pidd’s entire ensemble.
“Mr. Clifford?” Jimmy asked.
“Goodness me no.” He said with a hint of a smile. “My name is Tyler-Moore, Marcus Tyler-Moore.”
“He’s our financial Director.” Mr. Frecknell elaborated.
“I’m DC Pidd and this is DC Mead.”
He shook hands with them both.
The door opened behind them and a tall, lean shabbily dressed man in his early thirties entered.
He had what looked like a necktie hanging from his trouser pocket and his shirt was un tucked.
What must once have been a clean white shirt was now smeared with grease and dirt.
His sleeves were rolled up exposing his skinny white arms also smeared with dirt and his trousers were dirty and torn.
He was wiping dirt off his hands with a monogrammed handkerchief.
“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.” He said politely. “A problem with one of the machines.”
“Don! We have maintenance people to do that.” Marcus said in a fatherly way.
“He can’t help interfering.” Marcus said addressing the two officers. “He forgets it’s his company sometimes.”
“I know Marcus but like to help.”
He inspected his right hand briefly and offered it to Jimmy Pidd to shake.
“Don Clifford.” He said.
“DC Pidd.” Jimmy said. “And this is DC Me…”
“Philippa.” She interrupted. “Mead.”
“What a lovely name.” Don said taking her hand and gazing at her.
Philippa held his gaze and his hand for longer than necessary.
“Coffee?” Marcus broke the spell.
Don and Philippa broke away with a little embarrassment and they both blushed.
“Yes a good idea.” Don Clifford answered.
“Or tea if you would prefer?” Looking at Pip again.
“Please sit down,” He offered with a sweeping Gesture.
“Tea would be very nice thank you Mr. Clifford.” Philippa said almost coyly.
“Please call me Don.”
“Ok Don.” She said and giggled.
Jimmy was amazed he had never seen this side of Pippa before she was being feminine.
He looked at Marcus who shrugged this was obviously new behaviour for me Clifford as well.
“Coffee for me please.” Jimmy said as he sat in the closest chair.
Marcus nodded in Peter Frecknell direction and he slipped out through the door almost unnoticed.
After a few minutes he returned, holding open the door while an over weight middle aged woman in a type of uniform and apron pushed a trolley loaded with crockery, tea and coffee pots, milk jug, sugar bowl and a plate of biscuits.
“Thank you Doreen.” Marcus said as she unloaded the trays onto a side table.
“Sir.” She turned and left.
While they drank Jimmy filled them in about bypassing the alarm system and that they managed to override the CCTV.
He directed most of his comments to Marcus Tyler-Moore as Mr Clifford’s eyes were continuously being drawn towards Pip and hers to him.
He went on to explain that SOCO* would be on site soon though he was not hopeful that that would turn up anything as this was a very professional job.
“If you could provide us with a full inventory of the stolen items as soon as convenient.” Jimmy said. “And we will be able to give you a crime number for the insurance.”
“Thank you Constable Pidd.” Marcus said.
Jimmy stood up.
“Yes thank you.” Don Clifford tore his attention away from Pip and stood up proffering his hand.
“And thank you also Constable Mead.”
“Yes thank you Philippa.” Don said taking her hand again.
“I think the officers need to be going now Don.” Marcus said slapping Donald firmly on the back.
He reluctantly let go of Pippa’s hand and they both blushed again.
“You can contact me on this number when you have the list.” Jimmy handed a business card to Marcus.
Pippa handed her card to Donald and to Jimmy’s amazement she giggled again.
By the time Detective Sergeant Boris Katarski and Detective Constable Frank Chute arrived in Roespring village it had stopped raining.
As Boris drove the car up the driveway to the Curtis residence he saw Kelly Barrowman, the Scene Of Crime Officer, stood by her car.
Kelly was a well-proportioned girl, ample even.
He parked in the space next to hers and jumped out of the car.
“Hi Kelly anything for us?”
“Not much I’m afraid Boris.” She answered.
“Nothing in the house at all just half a dozen cigarette ends I found in the garden by the back door.” She continued. “I should be able to get DNA from one of them but…”
“But I need a suspect.” Said Boris.
“Yes you do, sorry.” Kelly said taking off her disposable overall.
“Are you going to Millmoor now?” DC Chute asked.
“No I’m not doing that one I’m off to the biscuit factory.” She answered patting her stomach and then closing the boot and walking to the driver’s door. “See you later guys.”
“See you Kelly.” Said Frank.
Boris was already at the front door and was showing his warrant card to a PC Marian Underhill.
Frank arrived just in time to here her replying to Boris.
“Mrs. Curtis has been sedated Sarge.”
“She’s been what?”
“It was Dr Whyton the family GP.” She elaborated. “She can’t be questioned until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Damn it.” Boris cursed running his fingers through his hair. “Has anyone done house to house?”
“Yes Sarge its been done now.” She replied
“Who found Mrs. Curtis?” Boris asked.
“We did.” Marian answered. “We were alerted when Mr. Curtis was found at the shop.”
“Does she have any family other than Cyril?” Asked Frank.
“Not that we know of.” She answered. “Were still checking.”
“I need a uniformed officer here round the clock Ok?” Ordered Boris
“Yes Sarge.” She replied.
“Good, Good thanks Marian.” He walked past PC Underhill and into the house followed by Frank Chute.
Philippa and Jimmy didn’t say a word on the short walk back to the car.
But when she walked to the passenger side Jimmy broke the silence.
“Oy Dolly daydream.” He shouted. “Your driving remember.”
She jumped. “Sorry Jimmy I was miles away.”
“I know where you were and who you were with.”
Then she flushed red.
Bill Overend and Tom Adamson pulled up outside the row of shops.
They saw another CID car slewed halfway up the pavement and looked at each other.
“Tilly was driving then guv.” Said Tom.
“Hmm.” Said Bill raising his eyebrows.
Bill got out of the car as Toms mobile went off.
Sgt Donnally walked over to meet him.
“I see the advanced driving course was a great help Tilly!”
“Sorry Guv.” She said sheepishly.
“Ok fill me in.” Bill said.
“SOCO found nothing.” Replied Tilly. “We’ve completed door to door, several people did notice a dark colored car parked outside the shop and a couple thought it unusual for the lights to be on, on Easter Monday night. But that’s about it.”
“Who found him?”
“Sue Yardell, chief cashier, found him when she turned up for work this morning.”
Tom switched off his phone joined the others.
“That was Boris, they don’t have much more than we do here.” Said Inspector Adamson.
“Mrs. Curtis has been sedated so we wont get anything from her until tomorrow best case. There will be a uniform staying in the house.”
“Thanks Tom.” He said then he turned his attention back to Tilly.
“What’s the story with Big Cyril?”
“Cyril’s in a bad way, he’s been taken to the Churchill, DC Khan has went in the ambulance with him.” Tilly said as they walked towards the shop. “He’ll be on hand to get a statement.”
“Do we know what happened to him?” Inspector Adamson asked.
“We’ll according to the Paramedics the injuries were probably inflicted after the blaggers had what they wanted.”
“Where’s the cashier now?” Asked Bill
“I had uniform take her home, she was to shaken up to give a coherent statement.” Tilly replied. “She’s going to come in to the Millmoor station tomorrow.”
“No we’ll come to her Tilly, make the arrangements.”
“Yes Guv.”
“Ok lets have a quick look round and then we can get back to the station.”
Some people might think that sending Detective Constable Ben Clubley to stakeout a pub was like putting a Paedophile in charge of an orphanage.
Nonetheless Bill Overend knew that if you are going to stakeout a pub you need someone who’s used to being in one.
So that is why DC Clubley found himself standing outside the “Fox and Flowerpot” in the small rural town of Finchbottom.
Finchbottom like most such towns had its good areas and its bad.
The pub he was about to go in was in fact in a one of the better parts of the town.
He walked through the double doors into the large single lounge area.
For some reason the Pub was known locally as the “Glue Pot” yet he could find no one who actually knew why.
Directly ahead of him was a large horseshoe shaped bar, surrounding it were the main seating area’s.
As he walked further into the bar area he could see a raised area, to the left, which was surrounded by chest high wood panelling and the area within was divided into cubicle like booths, this was presumably the eating area.
He could see that if there was illegal gambling on the premises that would be the best place for it.
He could see at the far end of the eating area what looked like french doors, which would have lead out to the garden he presumed, that would be a good escape route.
He glanced casually around the rest of the pub there was the usual selection of electronic entertainment in the form of fruit machines, Arcade games and a jukebox.
Also he recognized a few of the faces in the busy bar, several petty criminals and two of the Foster brothers Mick and Bob.
Mick was the youngest of the seven Foster brothers at the tender age of twenty-two.
He had form nonetheless including several TDA’s* shoplifting and credit card fraud.
However the eldest of the brothers, Bob aged forty, was a horse of a different color. His resume was a trifle more colorful including GBH**, ABH***, and Armed robbery.
Clubley reached the bar and waited he caught the eye of the barman who walked casually to where Ben was standing and stared without speaking.
“Stella.” Clubley said. “Pint.”
The barman slowly broke his gaze and responded to the request.
Ben looked around and saw another familiar face, Peter Foster, although he was three years younger than Bob, Peter was the brains of the family.
Sitting with him was Tyrone Carter another notable villain with plenty of form.
“Two pounds ninety.” The barman said banging the pint of lager down on the counter so hard it slopped over the side.
Ben stared him straight in the eye and dropped three pound coins in the ash tray.
“Keep the change.”
He only averted his gaze after the barman had picked the coins out from amongst the ash and dog ends and walked, cursing under his breath, towards the till.
“He’s an ignorant bastard that one.”
Ben turned to see he had been joined at the bar by a monster of a man.
Clubley was a tall man himself but even he had to look up to this guy.
Well over six feet tall, with close cropped dark hair and built like a brick out house.
And judging by his well tanned skin, un-manicured hands and grubby building clothes he could easily have built it himself.
“He’s a real charmer that’s for sure.” Ben said.
“Haven’t seen you in here before.” Outhouse said.
“No first time.” Ben responded. “Just got divorced, again, so I’m flat hunting.”
“Divorced? That’s expensive.”
“You know why divorce is so expensive?” Clubley asked.
Outhouse shook his head.
“Because it's worth it.” The two men laughed.
“Anyway.” Outhouse drained his glass. “Back to work.”
“See you again sometime.” Ben said.
“Give this place a miss evenings though.” Outhouse said leaning towards Ben. “A bit of a rough crowd get in here evenings.” He nodded towards the Foster’s.
“Thanks for the tip.”
As DCI Overend left big Cyril’s betting shop his mobile rang.
He hated mobile phones, they had there uses he accepted that but in the past the great thing about being mobile was you couldn’t be contacted but those days were gone forever.
He took the phone from his pocket. “Overend.”
“Its Gracie guv.”
“Hi Gracie how did you get on?”
“Stinky Pete wasn’t very cooperative at first but I’ve got everything now and I’m in the car now heading back to the station.”
“Well done Gracie.” He said hanging up.
Sgt. Donnally was just getting into the driving seat of her car.
“Tilly try and get back to Abbottsford without killing anyone.” Overend shouted.
PC Richard Deacon was on his way down the corridor heading back to reception from his meal break when he met DS Katarski and DC Chute coming the other way.
“Hello Sticky.” Boris said enthusiastically.
PC Deacon liked to be called Dickie rather than Richard but because of his Stick thin physique he was called Sticky Deacon by pretty much everyone.
“Hello Sarge.” Sticky answered.
As they passed by each other Boris turned and spoke very earnestly to PC Deacon.
“Richard perhaps you could help us settle an argument.”
“If I can Sarge.” He said suspicious as Boris was not in the habit of calling him Richard.
“Good, Good.” Said Boris
“Now just suppose you went camping with your mates Ok?” Deacon nodded.
“And one night you get totally rat arssed and crash out Ok?” He nodded again.
“But when you wake up next morning you find a used condom hanging from your arse.”
“Would you tell anyone?”
Dickie Deacon thinks for a moment and then says. “Absolutely not.”
“Ok thanks Sticky.” Said Boris and he and Frank Chute continued down the corridor.
After they had walked about ten feet Frank Chute turned back.
“Sticky?” He called.
“Yes Mr. Chute.”
“Do you want to go camping?”
