Preacher Man: 'their blood shall be upon them' (Ted Darling crime series Book 9)

by L M Krier

  ‘It’s up to us to set the record straight about Robbie, and about the others,’ the Ice Queen said firmly. ‘So, what information do we need to include?’

  ‘I’d like to see the press use photos of the three churches where the phones were found. If not all of them, then at least our last case, Darren Lee. If we can get those three pictures out there in the public’s mind, we may just get some information of what could possibly link them.’

  Ted’s meeting with the Super was over by the time the team members working that day were at their desks and getting started. He asked for an update.

  ‘With the tyre tracks up at Ludworth being identified as possibly Ford Fiesta, I’ve been looking at what vehicles are driven by anyone who’s been on our radar for anything to do with this case. Stanley Harrison doesn’t appear to own a vehicle. I know he told me he’d be travelling to Manchester by train when I arranged to meet him. I certainly can’t find anyone with his name as the registered owner of a vehicle, nor a driving licence issued to the right Stanley Harrison. I’m still trying to find out if he uses another name for his writing which he might also use for other things. All the historical books by him I can find listed online are under the name of Stanley Harrison. But maybe he does have another name, writing goodness knows what. Romance? Erotica? There might be good reasons why he would keep the two identities separate,’ Rob told him

  ‘Fiesta is just one possibility for a tyre match, but I have found Fiestas registered to both the current vicar, Gabriel Clegg, and to the former vicar’s son, Peter Spencer. Very different models. Spencer told me about his lottery win so it’s not surprising that his is top of the range with all the extras going. Clegg’s is older, basic, a model that’s not even made any more. Forensics were cagey about whether they could pin the tyre tracks down with any certainty other than being the right size for a Fiesta, so that might not advance us very far. Oh, and there’s another message from Doug for you to phone him, boss. About the kitten, he said.’

  Ted decided to ignore the further reminder. Kittens were the last thing on his mind at the moment.

  ‘What do we know about the vicar, Gabriel Clegg?’

  ‘Nothing on the radar anywhere. Seems squeaky clean. As far as I can tell he’s never come to the attention of the police at any time. Not even a speeding ticket. His only interest to us is that he happens to be the vicar of the church inside which Darren’s phone was found and he drives the most common vehicle on the road.’

  ‘Peter Spencer checks out, too, doesn’t he, despite the car coincidence? Again, let’s dig a little deeper into his background. Any friends or relatives, someone who might have borrowed his key when he was organist and had a copy made, without him knowing?

  ‘Who actually found the phone and handed it in?’

  Rob flicked through his notes.

  ‘This famous Miss Dean that Peter Spencer told me about, I’ve found out since I spoke to him. He and his father used to call her Miss Moneypenny. She’s well into her eighties now but still quite sprightly, by all accounts. When Clegg’s wife took over the flower rota, the Vicar knew Miss Dean wasn’t happy at being pushed out so he offered her some light cleaning and tidying duties in the church. She still has her key from her flower days and she goes in of a morning to have a quick tiffle about. I’m not sure what, exactly. That’s how she found the phone. She took it to the vicar who handed it in to the police. She’s surely not a suspect though, boss?’

  ‘I think it unlikely. I don’t see an elderly lady, no matter how sprightly, overpowering young lads. Nor doing the sort of things which were done to them. But have a dig into her background. She has a key, after all. Does she have any family? Children of her own? A nephew, perhaps? Someone she lets borrow her key. Or perhaps someone who has access to it and could have taken it without her noticing. And does she have a car, which someone may have borrowed?’

  ‘On it, boss.’

  ‘Have you actually had a face to face with Peter Spencer? Might be a good idea to do so, see what opinion you form of him.’

  ‘I haven’t yet. I spoke to him on the phone. But he checks out too. He’s not on the system anywhere, other than a clean DBS check, which I suppose he needs for giving private lessons to young people.’

  ‘Set up a meeting, just to cover our backs. He’s another one who’s not very likely but let’s do a thorough job. We need to explore every possibility before the budget is cut to the bone.’

  ‘It might be tricky, boss. He’s going off on an extended trip round Europe to look at church organs any day now. I’m not sure if he’s already left.’

  ‘I’d like him seen and spoken to before he goes away, if it’s at all possible, please. See if you can set something up. We don’t want him disappearing out of our reach then finding out more reasons why we should look at him more closely.

  ‘Have you checked if the address you have for him is still current?’

  Rob looked uncomfortable. ‘Not yet, boss,’ he admitted. ‘I spoke to him on his mobile. He called me back when I left a message. He wasn’t trying to avoid contact or anything like that.’

  ‘Check it out anyway. Ask the local force to find out if he’s still at the address you’ve got for him. Let’s not assume that just because he’s a vicar’s son with a clean disclosure that he’s above board. Not until we’ve established that for ourselves, beyond all doubt.

  ‘Where are we at with direct links between the three victims?’

  ‘Nothing much yet, boss,’ Steve told him. ‘I did find out that Darren and Robbie had done the residential part of their NCS at the same place, though not at the same time. I’m currently trawling through people they may both have come into contact with when they were there.’

  ‘We need to get someone to talk to whoever was in charge at the time that both of them were there. I expect they get so many young people through centres like those that they won’t always remember individuals, unless something out of the ordinary happened. Get on to whichever station is local to them, get them to visit, with photos of the two lads, and do some asking around. Tell them it’s important, so we’d appreciate their help soon as. If you run into any difficulties, ask me or Jo to speak to them.’

  Ted knew he had hours of paperwork ahead of him over the weekend. Trev was still keen that he should find time to go riding, for a couple of hours at least. It was looking like a slim chance, unless he got his head down and made some serious inroads into the budget. There were days when he regretted taking the promotion to DCI. It meant he spent more and more time desk-bound and less out there on the job which is what he liked best and what he was good at. There were even times when he missed Firearms, but he knew those days were long gone. Trev would never contemplate him going back to that job.

  He was anxious to catch up with Mike Hallam to find out the situation with Tony Barlow, the man arrested for kidnapping Trev. Mike had spoken to CPS and Barlow was now going to be charged. He had a record already so with any luck he would be remanded in custody.

  In a way, Ted was hoping that he might be given bail. There was a chance that if he did, the first thing he would try to do would be to contact Clive Edwards, seeking help, and if they could catch him in the act of doing that, it would give them a better chance of a successful prosecution of him.

  The verdict on Edwards’ daughter, Morgane, was expected around the middle of the week. Whichever way it went, Ted was hoping they would be in a position to order the arrest of Edwards with a reasonable chance of a successful prosecution for intimidation of a witness under the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994. It could land him a prison sentence, up to five years if it was tried on indictment.

  Ted was still under strict orders to stay away but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t resist sneaking in to watch Barlow over the monitor while DS Hallam was questioning the man in another room. Mike hadn’t been exaggerating about the state of Barlow’s injuries. It gave Ted a small feeling of some justice at least having been done. He’d
been on the receiving end of kicks from Trev during training sessions. He could imagine what it had been like for the man, not having a clue that the person he had shut in his car boot was a martial arts black belt. Ted almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  ‘Where do you want to go? You don’t want us to go riding round some crime scene or another this time, do you?’

  Trev had finally persuaded Ted to take a couple of hours out of work to go for a ride, Ted on broad and placid Walter, Trev on a much bigger and livelier eventer which belonged to friends of their friends Willow and Rupert.

  ‘Anywhere you fancy. But only a couple of hours and nothing too exciting. I’ve still not finished everything I need to prepare for tomorrow and I don’t think the Ice Queen would be impressed if I said sorry, ma’am, I didn’t do my homework because I fell off a horse while I was wagging it from work.’

  Trev laughed. ‘I know just the ride. Two hours, and a nice safe place for you to have a little burn-up. It will do you good, blow the cobwebs away. You need to be looking your best for another press conference. I’ll be recording it so I can share it with Annie if it doesn’t make the national news. You know she loves to see you on the telly.’

  ‘For once I hope it does hit the nationals,’ Ted told him. ‘We’re going nowhere at the moment on this one and we badly need the public’s help, hence my voluntarily calling a press conference.’

  The horses fell into step side by side. Ted had been amazed at the calming effect sitting on a moving horse had on him. He’d formed a bond with Walter and trusted him implicitly. Trev’s mount, Polaris, was a great dark-coated brute of a thing with a notoriously bad temper. He scared the living daylights out of Ted, even at a distance and he knew he would never feel brave enough to tackle anything like that. He was happy just plodding along with Walter. That was more than he had ever dreamt of doing. He liked the higher vantage point afforded by Walter’s wide back, allowing him to see things he might never have noticed when walking along at his own modest height.

  ‘It’s amazing how many abandoned old farms and outbuildings there are when you come to look around. I should think some of these have stood empty for years. I wonder if anyone ever goes near them?’

  ‘That sounds to me like Ted the Policeman talking. I thought we weren’t looking at crime scenes today?’

  ‘We weren’t going to. It’s just made me realise what a mammoth task we’ve got on when we come to start looking for ones in connection with this latest case.’

  ‘The kidnappings?’ Trev asked. Ted hadn’t told him much about the case, just the bare outlines.

  ‘You could hide someone away in old buildings like these and it would be completely by chance if anyone found them, I imagine.’

  ‘Wouldn’t sound carry though, up here? And if someone needed to get to them by vehicle, surely people would see lights after dark and investigate? They perhaps still belong to someone; a nearby farm maybe? I would think farmers would be keeping an eye out. Is there much rustling going on? Lights up here might be someone coming to steal the sheep?’

  ‘At the moment we don’t even know where to start looking. But at least it’s given me more ideas.’

  They were approaching a long but gentle rise in the ground. Ahead of them a well-trodden track led up to the top of the incline.

  ‘The ideal place for you to discover Walter’s top gear. Come on, I’ll race you.’

  Ted looked at Trev, sitting confidently astride the great dark beast which was Polaris, who would flatten his ears and snake his head to try to take a sneaky bite out of Walter whenever he could.

  ‘We don’t stand a chance.’

  ‘Go on, give it a go. We’ll give you a head start. Just give it some welly, hold your panic strap and keep your heels down.’

  Ted just had time to see Polaris show his disapproval at being restrained by rearing up on his hind legs, then exploding in a series of bucks as soon as all four feet were back on the ground. Trev’s laughter told him he was fine and in no danger of being unseated.

  Ted hung on for dear life and gave Walter a nudge of encouragement with his heels. The next minute they were away, flying over the turf faster than he’d thought his steady mount capable of. Ted found he was suddenly enjoying himself, feeling the adrenaline rush of watching the short, sheep-cropped grass fly by underneath them, listening to the pound of Walter’s hooves and hearing whoops of encouragement from Trev behind him but closing fast.

  Their moment of triumph was short-lived as the much longer-legged and by now furious Polaris steamed up and stuck his long neck out in front of them, reaching the end of the gallop first. As they let their mounts walk on a long rein to regain their breath and cool down, Ted’s grin almost matched that of Trev.

  ‘I liked that. It was just what I needed. The prospect of more spreadsheets later suddenly doesn’t seem quite as bad.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘So we’re hoping that members of the public might be able to help us with any information they may have on these particular three churches.’

  Ted was addressing the press conference, in front of a screen showing the churches in question, where the phones of their three victims had been found. Much as Ted disliked taking centre stage, the Super had impressed on him that he was the ideal person to present to the press as he always came across as sincere. People instinctively liked and trusted him, and wanted to help when he asked them to.

  ‘Something connects these three locations and our three victims. We’re working hard to find out what it is and we would really appreciate the public’s help in doing so.’

  With the permission of Robbie Mitchell’s parents, his photo was also on view. They were not at this stage releasing those of Darren Lee and Tim Phillips. Their photos had been widely distributed when the boys were missing so the press could find them easily enough if they decided to do a bit of digging.

  ‘We’re keen to stress that we are now fairly sure that these three cases are linked and we feel there is a strong possibility that this person may offend again. Which is why we want to make the public aware and ask for their help.’

  As soon as he threw the conference open to questions, Ted thankfully handed over to the Ice Queen and the Press Officer. They were much more adept than he was at that sort of thing. And there were plenty of questions, most of which they had anticipated.

  ‘Why was the connection not picked up earlier?’

  ‘Why were the public not warned sooner?’

  ‘If the connection hadn’t been missed might the third victim not have been taken?’

  ‘Is there a suspect?’

  ‘If not, why not?’

  ‘What state are the two surviving victims in?’

  ‘Are you going to reveal their identities?’

  ‘Can we talk to them?’

  ‘What is their prognosis?’

  ‘What information have they been able to give?’

  And more of the same. Endlessly, remorselessly. Facing the press was always a double-edged sword. They could be a vital help in getting word out in an appeal for information. But it wouldn’t be the first time the press pack had turned such an event into a savaging of the police for their lack of progress on a case.

  Ted tried to avoid scowling at those assembled as they posed their questions, as he often did. He knew he needed their help on this. He was also aware of Trev reminding him that his mother would be watching his performance at some point so he tried to keep his face neutral. Trev had also organised his wardrobe for the occasion once again.

  The press conference was first thing on the Monday morning. They were anxious to try to catch the lunchtime news. The sooner they put the information out there, the sooner they should start getting some results. There would inevitably be the usual deluge of irrelevant calls, including some timewasters. But somewhere amongst them all, there might just be the one which could start to provide the missing key.

  There was the inevitable debrief for Ted with the Super and the Press Offic
er once the conference was over and the members of the press had left. Overall, they were pleased with how things had gone, optimistic that the press would concentrate more on asking for the public’s help than on police bashing. Even if there was just one phone call which gave them a lead, it would take them further forward than they were now.

  Ted watched the news item go out at lunchtime from the sanctuary of his own office. It wasn’t long before the first call came in, but it was not one they had been expecting at all. Ted heard his name being called from the main office with a degree of urgency. He went out to find Maurice talking on his mobile phone, his tone placating.

  ‘It’s all right, Darren, lad. Just calm down. Can you put Amy on, please? Let me talk to Amy, Darren, then I know what’s going on.’

  Ted and every team member present held their breath, waiting to find out what was the reason for the phone call.

  ‘Amy? What’s he trying to tell me?’

  Maurice listened for what seemed like a long time. Then he said, ‘Right, I’m coming up there. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. Tell Darren I’m on my way.

  ‘Boss, I need to get up to Preston. Darren’s mam sometimes has the telly on while she’s doing the ironing. She takes stuff in for some of her cleaning clients. Darren never takes any notice of it. He’s usually glued to his PlayStation. He’s been more and more into that as he’s started to settle a bit.

  ‘For some reason he just happened to look up as the lunchtime news was on and he saw the church. The one where his phone was left. Amy said he got extremely agitated, he kept repeating the word church over and over. She couldn’t settle him, so she let him phone me. I need to go there, boss. It seems like he recognised the place and that’s a new word he’s not said before. He may just be on the brink of talking to us.’

  ‘Damn, I should have thought of that. The risk of Darren seeing it. I should have made sure Amy was warned and prepared. Yes, you go, Maurice. Keep us posted, please, but stay as long as you need to. I think if Tim Phillips is living in some dodgy squat somewhere, it’s highly unlikely that he’s seen anything on television. Let’s hope he’s found today. He needs to be somewhere safe, even if he can’t tell us anything.’