Overend - Chapter 03

Overend – A Year In Crime

Chapter Three

Monday March 25th 2002

A combination of to much alcohol and a lack of sleep had left his mind feeling as foggy as the weather.
He hated drinking too much.
He hated the throbbing temples, the clammy skin and what was that taste you get in your mouth.
But he had to wet the baby’s head.

DCI Overend normally worked out of Abbottsford station, one of the few remaining 24 hour, fully manned, police stations left and it covered a seemingly ever-increasing area which was reflected by the large team he had at his disposal.
On this particular Monday morning in March however he was in the old market town of Abbeyvale, about four miles from base.
At Dawson’s recycling plant to be precise, leaning against his car, and yawning as he watched the soot stained firefighters stowing their gear, their job done.
Beyond them the dozen or so burnt out cars and vans and the twisted steel that had once been a warehouse.
Not to mention of course the body.
Just then the paramedics came into view with the afore mentioned body followed closely by the diminutive figure of Detective Inspector Tom Adamson trotting behind them almost on his toes like Jimmy Cagney dancing.
He was only five foot six inches tall and as thin as a racing snake with thinning Sandy hair. But despite his emaciated appearance he was extremely strong and had whippet like speed.
There is more than one criminal now enjoying “her majesties pleasure” because they underestimated him.
Because of his short stature he was almost running to keep up with the paramedics as they headed towards the ambulance.
As usual he had his notebook in hand and was scribbling furiously. He was notorious with regard to his notebook he was almost fanatical about it. It is almost a given that if it’s not in Adamson's note book then it hadn’t been said or done.
And Tom was proud of it.
At thirty-nine years old he was the most experienced Detective in the division, with the exception of Overend, but had never sought further promotion. He liked being a DI he had found his niche, and he was good at his job so it suited everyone.
DCI Overend walked over to intercept the group just the reached the back of the Ambulance.
The paramedics, Sam Liburd and Andy Mason loaded the body of the unfortunate corpse aboard and the Inspector and his Sergeant stepped to one side.
They looked a comical pair.
The huge DCI towered high above the tiny figure of his DI.
Now it has been said that Inspector Adamson looked as if he’d been through a famine and that the DCI looked as if he had caused it.
That should give you some idea of the difference in stature.
The Sergeant danced lightly on the balls of his feet as if he were trying to reduce the height difference between them.
Bill Overend however knew this to mean he had some information to impart so he kept him waiting a little longer.
“Do we have a name Tom?” Asked the Chief Inspector almost matter of factly.
“Yes sir, we most certainly do” The Detective Inspector answered smugly.
Clutching his notebook firmly and grinning broadly Tom waited for the DI’s patience to expire.
“Well is it a secret?”
Tom laughed and could see Bill Overend struggling to suppress a chuckle himself, Tom laughed again.
“It’s our old friend Tony Conway”
The Chief Inspector’s bottom jaw almost hit the floor.
At that moment the paramedics emerged from the Ambulance.
Andy Mason made his way to the passenger side opened the door and climbed in while his colleague Sam stopped to talk with the two officers.
He looked amusingly at Chief Inspector Overend.
“He’s given you the news then Bill?” said Sam.
At that moment there was a commotion behind them.
Andy Mason had jumped out of the passenger seat and raced round to the back of the Ambulance.
Sam Liburd was already at his shoulder as Andy leapt up into the back. Seconds later the paramedics re-appeared either side of a struggling young man with a camera around his neck.
The two policemen rushed to meet them and took charge of the Photographer.
“Who the hell are you?” Shouted Overend
“What it got to do with you?” Retorted the young man
“I’m Detective Chief Inspector Overend and this is Detective Inspector Adamson and you’re in the shit,” he said angrily.
“Terry Argent I’m a photographer, freelance” he said quickly.
“Don’t tell me you wanted a picture of our charcoaled friend in there,” said Overend pointing towards the inside of the Ambulance.
“You’d be surprised at what some people are interested in” he responded defensively
“ I’m only trying to make a living”
“Get the film Tom,” said Overend shaking his head despairingly and muttering under his breath “only making a living”
“It’s a digital Camera sir,” replied Tom “there is no film”
“I do know what a digital camera is confiscate it” he barked angrily “Well take it back with us and get DC Suddaby to remove the offending picture and we can check what else he’s been snapping”
The assembled group all stared at him open mouthed.
“What” snapped the DCI “just because I don’t like technology doesn’t mean I don’t understand it.”
Everyone smiled with the exception of the nervous young photographer.
“You may collect your property from Abbottsford nick” Overend said addressing Argent
“Have a word with this idiot and send him on his way” said the Chief Inspector in DI Adamson’s direction “and give him a receipt”
DI Adamson took the camera off over the young mans head and said. “If I ever catch you pulling a stunt like this again the next photo you see will be of the inside of your own colon, do we understand each other”
“Yes Inspector.” Terry answered feebly
“I’m off,” said Bill addressing the paramedics “see you Sam, Andy”
The two men waved as they were preparing to leave themselves.
“Ok Inspector don’t frighten the strange young man,” Bill said walking back towards the car.

Bill opened the door and settled himself into the passenger seat.
He normally liked to drive himself, which was fairly unusual for DCI’s, most of them liked to be driven on the pretext of being able to concentrate their thoughts.
The reality being they wanted to “rest their eyes” which of course is a euphemism for sleeping.
But Bill liked to drive mainly because he was a terrible passenger but also because he found it helped him to think.
Today however, he wasn’t up to it.
He had driven to Dawsons himself this morning as DI Adamson had arrived on scene before him with the uniform officers.
He settled back in to the seat and soon dozed off.
He woke with a start as the driver’s door opened and Adamson slipped into the driver’s seat and finding his feet well short of the pedals adjusted the seat.
“Feeling fragile sir?” asked Tom
“I've been better,” he grunted
He thought about saying more but in the end that was all he could manage.
“Are you still having those odd dreams guv?” Tom enquired.
“Yes” He replied.
“Just then, the one with the Olsen twins and the Cuban cigar”
Tom looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“Don’t ask” Said Bill and he wound down his window.
“Issy had the baby yesterday”
“Congratulations Guv” said Tom turning to shake Bill’s hand.
“Boy or Girl?”
“A grandson, Benjamin”
“Is Isabel ok? When do they go home?” asked Tom
“She’s fine and they go home tomorrow,” he said accentuating the word tomorrow.
“When Sally was in having Issy she was in hospital for a whole week after, I had a whole week to slob around before they came home and I had to be a grown up again.” He mused.
“You’ll never guess who I saw at the hospital yesterday, His wife was on the same ward as Issy.” Tom shook his head. “Tyrone Carter.”
“Carter?” Tom said frowning “I thought he was still inside doing a ten stretch.”
“So did I.” Said Bill “ I suppose he could have been released on “compassionate” for the birth.”
“By my reckoning he still has four years to serve which begs the question who’s the father?” Said Tom quizzically.
After a few minutes of amused reflection Bill came to life,
“Anyway” he said straightening up in his seat.
“I’ve woken up now” he said “tell me again who got chargrilled”

The weak spring sunshine was beginning to burn its way the through the morning mist and murk as the DCI’s car pulled into the police car park behind the Abbottsford station.
As he and his DI walked silently across the car park and up the steps to the rear entrance, Bill was still trying to digest the information Tom had given him about the victim.
Adamson swiped his card through the mechanism and the door opened he held the door open as the DCI entered.
They were halfway up the stairs to CID before Bill broke the silence.
“Well there won’t be many mourners at that bastard’s funeral”
“I wonder if they’ll bother cremating him,” Tom offered
“We’re supposed to be a caring sharing police force nowadays Inspector.”
Bill said to Tom disapprovingly
“I wonder if we’re still in time for toast”
And they headed in the direction of the canteen.

After a well earned cup of Coffee Overend and Adamson left the canteen and made their way up stairs to CID.
As they were going up the stairs to the second floor they met Chief Superintendent Tiplady coming the other way.
“Good morning gentlemen” Tiplady said.
“Sir” Said the DI acknowledging the Chief Super and then addressing the DCI “I’ll get started on the paperwork sir”
And he disappeared up the stairs.
“Morning sir,” Said DCI Overend
“What’s the story at Dawsons Bill?” Asked Tiplady
“Do we have a name for the victim yet?”
“Yes Guv the victim is Tony Conway” Replied Bill.
“Tony Conway? That scumbag” Tiplady said incredulously.
“Ex scumbag sir, a little respect for the dead”
“Respect? I should coco,” He said laughing loudly
“Does he have any form for arson?”
“It wasn’t arson sir” Corrected Bill.
“It was what you might call a recycling accident”
“Great one dead scumbag and the HSE* get to do the paperwork that’s what I call a result” Tiplady said happily.
“It wasn’t that kind of accident sir”
“What do you mean” Quizzed Tiplady “What kind of accident was it then?”
“You see sir, Conway was actually recycling fuel from one of Dawsons vans into his own car and set himself alight.” explained Bill
“Was he working for Dawsons?” asked Tiplady
“No sir he was employed by Olympic Security”
“Security? Talk about Poacher turned gamekeeper, how the hell did that happen?”
“I think it might bear further investigation,” Bill suggested.
“A good idea Bill keep me posted” and he continued down the stairs.
Bill took a step forward and turned quickly.
“Sir is there any news on my replacements?”
“Come and see me in my office on Thursday morning” Tiplady called back “I might just have some news for you”
“Ok sir” Said Bill despondently shaking his head.
Why didn’t he say good news he thought to himself?
At least he would get an answer before the Easter weekend.

As the unsuspecting DCI walked into the squad room a chorus of cheers, by the assembled detectives, greeted him
“Great news eh Guv” said Detective Sergeant Katarski “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person” Brandishing an A3 colour photo of the spare rib formerly known as Conway.
Tom Adamson had obviously imparted the news of Conway’s demise.
“Every copper in the station must have pulled him at one time or another” said Tilly Donnally
“He was like a training tool for probationers to practice on he will be greatly missed”
“He certainly got his fingers burned this time,” added Boris.
“Well I’m pleased to see that the death of a fellow human being is the cause of such amusement.” Bill said sternly
Everyone went silent and lowered their eyes.
“Especially when this particular human being did us the great service of setting fire to himself” Bill finished and laughed.
Everyone else joined in the laughter.
“Now while I have you all conveniently gathered” Bill paused “The untimely death of the late lamented Mr. Conway has uncovered a potential problem”
Namely, how did a career criminal with more form than “Desert Orchid” manage to get a job working for Olympic Security, the largest private security firm in southern England?”
They looked at each other.
“Did he use his own name?” asked DC Chute
“Apparently so.” answered Tom Adamson.
“Tilly I want your team to investigate, find out if he was vetted and if not why not, and if he was by whom.” Ordered Bill
“Yes guv.” she said and turned away.
Bill turned towards his office.
“Hello granddad” said DC Jenny Hack, who was heavily pregnant, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you my little flower” said the DCI, more than a little embarrassed.
“How’s Isabel?” Jenny asked “And the Babe?”
“They are both fine” He replied proudly.
“Issy is obviously very pleased with herself.”
“As will I when this one arrives.” She said patting her rather large bump smugly. “Which won’t be long now, please God”
“Well just remember before you start feeling too pleased with your self “a baby is the most complicated object made by unskilled labor,”” he said to Jenny
“We might be unskilled but it it’s not for the want of practice.” She responded walking away cockily.