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

by L M Krier

  ‘What’s your gut feeling?’

  ‘Ah, now that is not something in which I usually deal. I prefer a more scientific approach. Morgane Edwards is, of course, a consummate actress. It’s part of her condition. She was giving an Oscar-winning performance throughout, flashing those innocent baby-blue eyes at the jury. I would say it’s in the balance at the moment. It depends on the performance of the defence witnesses, I would be inclined to say.

  ‘These sandwiches are surprisingly good,’ he went on, taking a bite out of the light lunch that had just been brought to their table. ‘I’ve not discovered this place before. Now, you didn’t get me here to ply me with tea or discuss Morgane Edwards, and my meter is ticking. So tell me in more detail about this case with which you may require my help.’

  Ted always spoke quietly but he lowered his voice more, discussing work in a public place. It was not busy and he’d deliberately picked the quietest corner he could. He’d already outlined the case to Hopkins over the phone when arranging to meet him. But now he was able to give him more detail, anxious for an expert opinion.

  ‘You don’t need me to tell you that your kidnapper is seriously disturbed. That much is evident from his actions. I like the theory of your DC, about the brainwashing technique and the boys now being reluctant to say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing. That to me is eminently plausible. Not to be too indelicate, I think if someone was administering electric shocks, even relatively mild ones, to my genitals if I said the wrong thing, I too might be inclined to opt to say as little as possible.

  ‘Will they ever speak openly about their experiences? Impossible to say without me observing them over a period of time, which would cost your budget a lot of money. Should you let them meet? I would advise against it without knowing a great deal more. It could potentially have a catastrophic effect if not handled properly.

  ‘What is your best way forwards from here, with your two victims? The mercenary part of me says employ me, for lots of lucrative hours, and I’ll get through to them and get you the information you need. The decent part of me - because believe it or not there is one – says that from what you tell me, you’re doing absolutely the right thing, and possibly the only thing you can do with them at the moment.

  ‘I know some of the staff at the unit in Lincolnshire and they’re very good. That young man is in the ideal place. As long as the bed remains available for him, you have as good a chance as any of him improving enough to say something. Your other young man is extremely lucky to have a mother who obviously cares for him and will do her best, despite her own problems. So with her, your liaison officer and your own DC – who incidentally sounds like an absolute gem – again, if there’s any chance of him recovering from this, he will, where he is.

  ‘I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you that the problems will arise when yet another funding crisis means the withdrawal of financial provision in place for these two young men. That will then inevitably result in the life-raft being pulled out from under them and them being left to paddle their own way back to shore. I suspect at that point they would drift off course never to be brought back.

  ‘Now, shall we have some more of this quite drinkable tea and perhaps a sticky bun, by way of a pudding? I confess to having an appallingly sweet tooth.’

  As soon as Ted walked back into the main office after his meeting with Hopkins, he could tell that something significant had happened. Only Jo, Rob and Jezza were in. They had their heads together and were discussing something, their faces serious.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  Jo spoke, as the senior officer present.

  ‘It may be nothing, boss, and we’re hoping it is. But a teenage lad has been reported missing from the centre of Manchester. Seventeen years old, out with friends at a club last night and never went home. Never done anything like it before. Another good lad, serious student, never given his parents any anxious moments so, naturally, they’re worried sick. It’s not twenty-four hours yet, of course, so he could just be sleeping off a monumental hangover. It’s just been flagged up because of the similarities.’

  ‘And the biggest similarity, boss, is that this lad is gay,’ Jezza put in. ‘He’s …’

  ‘If you’re about to say openly gay, Jezza, please don’t.’

  ‘I wasn’t, boss,’ she sounded offended. ‘I was going to say that he’s in a steady relationship. He wasn’t out with his boyfriend, though, as the boyfriend’s got flu. The lad, Gary Heath, was just with a bunch of mates, doing a few pubs and clubs. After they left the last club, he headed off to go home but he never got there. His mobile phone’s missing, too.’

  ‘Sorry, Jezza, I know you better than that. I made a wrong assumption and I apologise. Right, first off, let’s cross all our fingers and toes that there’s a perfectly innocent explanation to this and that Gary will turn up safe and sound but just slightly hung over. Keep me updated and, it goes without saying, we need to know immediately if his phone turns up anywhere if he doesn’t.

  ‘So, Rob, any progress on Peter Spencer? Have you been able to contact him again?’

  ‘Not yet, boss. I’ve left messages on both his phones but he’s not returned my calls yet.’

  ‘Do we actually know if he is in Europe or not? Other than him telling you that he is? Did he mention which ports he was using? Have you checked passenger lists with the ferry companies? What about his car? Have you checked that it wasn’t on a ferry, even if he told you he was travelling by train?

  Rob was starting to look increasingly uncomfortable.

  ‘I’ll do it now, boss.’

  ‘And have we got a photo of him, in case we should need one? If not, let’s get hold of one from somewhere. Passport office, perhaps.

  ‘There are several reasons to hope this latest disappearance is not the work of The Preacher. The first and possibly the most significant is the complete change of MO in that this time there’s no six month gap. It’s just over a couple of weeks, so there’s still a good chance that this is something unrelated and hopefully harmless, despite the other similarities.

  ‘Keep me posted on any and all developments. Rob, a word, please.’

  Rob had his head down as he followed the boss into his office, shutting the door quickly behind him as he did so, not quite sure what was in store for him.

  ‘Boss, I know what you’re going to say and you’re right. I completely ballsed this one up.’

  Ted had pulled out the spare chair and indicated for Rob to sit down.

  ‘That’s not what I was going to say and I certainly wouldn’t have put it like that. But yes, this was poor, sloppy work. It’s not what I expect from a DS and it’s certainly not what I expect from you, Rob. So what I was going to say is what’s wrong? Your mind’s clearly not on the job so is there anything I should know about? Anything preventing you from doing the job as you should do?’

  ‘There is no excuse, boss, and I can only apologise. I wasn’t concentrating, but I can’t even claim anything’s wrong. Quite the reverse. Me and Sally have applied to be foster parents and we’re waiting to hear if we’re through to the next stage. I’m sorry. I should have kept my mind on the job.’

  ‘Well, that’s good news. I hope you’re successful. For what it’s worth, I think you’d make great foster parents. If ever you need a reference, I’d be happy to write something to say you’re a good officer, most of the time, and if you learn to keep your private life out of work, you’ve got good career prospects. Just don’t let me down again.’

  ‘I won’t, boss, and thank you,’ Rob scrambled to his feet, glad to have got off lightly.

  ‘Go on, get out of here,’ Ted told him, although his tone was good-natured.

  Rob talking about foster parents made him think of Doug and the kitten, for some reason. He knew he should call him back, as a courtesy, even if it was to tell him that he didn’t think it was the right time for him and Trev to even consider adopting another cat, especially not such a young on
e.

  Doug would often go the extra mile for Ted because he liked him, appreciated his interest in all things feline. He also found it a pleasant change that a DCI was polite enough always to give him the time of day and talk cats, no matter how urgent his enquiry was.

  Ted promised himself he’d call him later that day. Or perhaps tomorrow.

  Ted was convinced that as soon as he left the office for more than five minutes, paperwork started breeding in his inbox, his in-tray and anywhere else it could. It was not for nothing that the standing joke in many police forces that the most serious line of duty injury a DCI was likely to suffer was a paper cut.

  Once he’d made enough of a dent in the latest load he thought he’d take time to nip downstairs and catch a few words with Kevin Turner. He hardly seemed to see him these days. The two of them spent far too much time confined to their respective offices.

  As soon as he tapped on the door and went in, he could see from Kev’s dishevelled appearance and the mountain of scattered documents surrounding him that he was not in the best of moods.

  ‘Whatever it is you want, Ted, I haven’t got it. Not the manpower, not the budget, bugger all. So go and ask some other sod.’

  ‘As good as that, eh?’ Ted asked him, ignoring his bad mood and pulling out a spare chair to sit down on.

  ‘Bloody worse,’ Kev finally looked up, one hand rubbing his stomach again. The pills seemed to be having less and less effect on his ulcers, with the amount of stress he was under. ‘It’s getting beyond a joke. How the hell are we supposed to respond even to urgent cases with the force numbers cut to the bare bone? What was it you wanted, anyway? Whatever it is, you can’t have it. Not from me, in any case.’

  ‘I’m worried about Bill.’

  ‘Is that it? You’re worried about Bill? I’m worried about Bill. I’m worried about rising crime and cuts to resources. I’m worried about global warming. I’m worried about the situation in the Middle East. I’ve just had to order a car to cease chasing two lads on a moped who assaulted and robbed someone. Little scrotes had no helmets on and you know the new rules mean we mustn’t risk them getting injured in a pursuit. Bill gets to put his feet up for a few weeks well-earned rest, counting his pension. Then he’s back here again, in civvies, getting paid. What do you expect me to do about it?’

  ‘He’s getting very low, Kev. You must have noticed.’

  ‘Noticed? I spend so many hours in here I need a map to get to the car park. I’m sorry for Bill, I really am. I know he loves his job and he thinks of the nick as his home and his colleagues as his family. But seriously, Ted, what can I do? The budget isn’t there. He’s got to take a three-month break before he can start back. But he can start back. The job’s his, it’s a firm offer.

  ‘I’ll try to keep in touch with him, keep an eye on him. But you know what it’s like lately. My wife almost dials 999 when I go home these days. She sees so little of me she doesn’t recognise me, thinks I’m a burglar.’

  ‘I know. I do understand. We’ve got off lightly so far, and we were lucky that Megan wanted to go without me having to pick someone to bin. I just thought I’d flag it up. We need to keep an eye on him between us all, if we can, when he’s not coming in here practically every day. He deserves that much, at least.’

  ‘Are you coming to his leaving do on Friday?’

  ‘The surprise party he knows all about and is dreading? I’ll be there if I can, you know that.’

  This time the tension in the main office was palpable when Ted went back upstairs. Most of the team were now back in, only Mike and Virgil still tied up on other cases.

  ‘Tell me,’ Ted ordered.

  ‘Gary’s phone has been found, boss. In a church near Manchester. In the porch again. But another church. And there’s still no sign of the lad, and no word from him. His parents saw the press conference on TV so they’re beside themselves and they don’t even know about the phone and where it was found yet. They’re practically camped out at their local nick demanding action.’

  ‘Right, we’ve got to crank this enquiry up a few notches or we’re going to look very bad. We’ve got to find this lad and soon, before he ends up like the other two. Or worse.

  ‘I just need to talk to the Super and the Big Boss but if they agree I think, Jo, that you and I should go and be a high visibility presence. Talk to this Gary’s parents, assure them we’re doing everything we possibly can on this, otherwise the press really are going to hang us out to dry.

  ‘I’m going to ask for more officers to be made available, run this as a major ongoing crime, covering all four of the cases we now have. A single unit, working together.

  ‘If we don’t take some drastic action and soon we could risk a fatality. The Preacher, if it is him, has changed his pattern. That means anything else could also change. We might be faced with anything, including another death, and not an accidental one, this time. It’s just possible that the press conference has pushed The Preacher over the edge. He may be about to take things further. We have to find him and stop him before he does.

  ‘And Rob …’

  ‘I know, boss. Find Peter Spencer.’

  Chapter Twenty-three

  ‘CPS are still telling me they’re expecting a fairly speedy verdict,’ Jim Baker told Ted and the Ice Queen at their early morning conference on what was anticipated to be the last day of the Morgane Edwards trial.

  ‘There’s just the father to finish his pack of lies, then the summing up, then the jury will be sent out to consider. At the moment, I’d say it’s too close to call but our lot are fairly confident. So we need to discuss - providing you can assure me you have the evidence you need, Ted - the when and the where of arresting the father. Because you don’t need me to remind you that if we clap him in handcuffs and drag him out of court just after he’s seen his daughter convicted, it’s going to make front page news everywhere. And if we’ve got it wrong, we’ll be joining Bill in retirement, though not from choice.’

  ‘My feeling is that if it’s a guilty verdict, the father will completely lose it in court. He’ll need to be removed and it may need more than an usher. We could legitimately have a couple of Uniform officers at the back on stand-by. If he kicks off, they could quietly remove him and whisk him away. That shouldn’t look too suspicious, even to the press pack.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’

  ‘Then the officers follow him discreetly. If he gets in his car to head home, they pull him over on some minor traffic offence. Tell him he has a tail-light out or something. Then he can be arrested and charged. No doubt his flat will be under press siege so we don’t really want to arrest him there until they get bored of waiting and go somewhere else.’

  ‘He will almost certainly be demanding an appeal, so he might well go straight into meetings with the defence team,’ Superintendent Caldwell pointed out reasonably.

  ‘Then we play cat and mouse until we can get him somewhere quiet. I’ve spoken at length to CPS and whatever Edwards says when we question him, they feel we have enough to at least charge him. Tony Barlow and Giggsy have told us everything. They’ve given us a good description of Edwards, plus we have the phone contact between them.’

  ‘Giggsy?’ The Super hadn’t been at Stockport as long as Ted and Jim Baker had been so she didn’t know the nicknames of all the local villains.

  ‘Ryan O’Brien,’ Ted told her. ‘He’s the accomplice and he’s already known to us. Neither he nor Barlow are terribly credible witnesses. But in a sense that works to our advantage because they would be unlikely to come into contact with someone like Edwards unless it was for something a bit dodgy.’

  ‘Right, I’m happy with all of that, as long as Jim is. So now tell us about this latest possible victim of The Preacher.’

  ‘There’s still no signs of Gary Heath and no contact from him. The parents are going frantic because it’s totally out of character.’

  ‘Sadly, teenage boys often reach a stage in their lives where most of t
hem do something completely out of character.’

  The Ice Queen was speaking from experience. The elder of her two sons had given his parents a real fright by doing something stupid at a party. Fortunately he’d lived to tell the tale.

  ‘I’d be happy to put it down to no more than that if his phone hadn’t been found in a church porch. That worries me. That’s too much of a coincidence and you know I don’t like coincidences.

  ‘This is going to blow the budget apart, I’m afraid, but it needs sorting. Apart from the damage to another young man, the press backlash if we don’t crack this case, and soon, is going to be potentially catastrophic. That’s why I’ve called a briefing for mid-morning with officers from all four forces involved; us, Lancashire, Lincolnshire and Humberside. I’ve got a room sorted at Central Park, as that seemed the logical place. We need to get our heads together on this one and come up with something concrete.’

  Both Ted’s senior officers were nodding in agreement, which was a good sign. It was up to them to deal with the financial issues involved. That’s what they were there for. This wasn’t just about the teenagers now. It was about damage limitation. If four forces between them couldn’t manage to catch and stop The Preacher, public confidence in the police was going to take a serious knock.

  ‘I need to swing by court first then I’ll join you, Ted. If we can’t manage to wind this up with four forces and a combined budget, then we deserve to be hung out to dry.’

  ‘And once the briefing is over, I’ll go and talk to the parents of Gary Heath, if there’s still no sign of him anywhere.’

  ‘I suppose a briefing of this size couldn’t realistically happen via a conference call?’

  The Super had one last attempt at salvaging the budget. She agreed with Ted. They needed to do something. But if it could be done as effectively at a lower cost, she should at least raise the possibility.