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

by L M Krier

  The looks she got from both Ted and Jim told her what they thought of her idea.

  ‘Then let’s do it. Let’s see if we can’t finally get whoever is behind these dreadful cases.’

  Jim Baker stood up to leave but Ted lingered a bit. He wanted the chance of a quiet word alone with the Ice Queen about the presumed drowning near Cape Town. She, too, knew Green and had been on some of his training courses.

  ‘You don’t really think it was Mr Green, do you?’ she asked after he told her what he knew. ‘After all the time he spent shouting at us all about assessing and managing risk before we did anything else, would he really put himself in danger like that?’

  ‘I can’t see him of all people taking risks in water. We both know he was an excellent swimmer. My feeling is he’s either staged his own disappearance or ...’

  ‘Somebody wanted him out of the way,’ she finished for him.

  Ted was perching on the edge of a desk near the whiteboard using a pointer to illustrate the information up there. He always preferred not to stand. It only emphasised how short he was.

  ‘We can’t really call them suspects at this stage as we don’t actually have enough to link them to the cases. But these three, Gabriel Clegg, the current vicar, Peter Spencer, the former organist and son of the previous vicar, and Stanley Harrison, a writer specialising in both Christian and pre-Christian places of worship are at present the three people most of interest to us.

  ‘For those of you who are new to the case, our biggest difficulty to date is that neither of the surviving victims is talking much so we don’t have a great deal to go on.

  ‘DC Maurice Brown, from my team, has been spending time with Darren Lee, gaining his trust. Darren has started to attempt to communicate, but it’s still not a great deal to go on. Maurice?’

  ‘Boss, I went to see Darren this morning before I came here. Yesterday he was saying ‘other church’ and using this name, Simon, which so far means nothing much to us. This morning he kept saying the word ‘redemption’ to me. I don’t know what he meant. Probably another part of some of the bible verses he was conditioned into repeating.’

  ‘Sir, DC Brown phoned me to let me know the new words, but we’ve been specifically asked by the unit where Tim Phillips is being looked after to leave him to settle in for the time being before we try asking him anything which might set him off again,’ DS Bryony Streeter, from Lincoln, told the briefing. ‘In a sense, Tim is a worse case than Darren because he took to drugs after what happened to him, so the unit needs to deal with getting him off those before he’s in a fit state for us to talk to him at all.’

  The door opened at that moment and the ACC (Crime) Russell Evans, strode in to the conference room. Ted hadn’t been expecting him to attend. He leapt off the desk to stand, still feeling guilty about his previous encounter with him. A few other officers made to rise but not all those assembled. Formality was on the decline within the force as a whole. In some divisions, everyone was on first name terms, nobody was called ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’, except on formal occasions and people no longer stood, except for the highest executive officers. Ted actually preferred the older rank structure and its inherent formality, but he was an old-fashioned sort. At least you knew where you were with it.

  ‘As you were, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t want to disturb you. But with the latest victim taken from almost on our doorstep here, I wanted to see the progress of this enquiry. Above all, I just wanted to assure everyone that resources will be found for this case. I don’t want anyone to think that this person is going to get away with what he’s been doing simply because money’s a bit tight.

  ‘Is there any news yet of this latest young lad?’

  ‘Nothing, sir. Because his phone was found at a church, we’re treating this as another kidnapping by The Preacher, in the absence of any explanation to the contrary. I’m going to talk to the parents, with DI Rodriguez, once I’ve finished here.’

  ‘Good, excellent. I like that thinking. Let’s show the public we’re all over this and no effort will be spared to get the person behind it. I’ll just sit at the back here and observe. Ignore me.’

  ‘What I now need from all of you here is help to look at what links these cases. You’ve now got all the information that we have so far. The main link we have up to this point between two of the victims is that they did part of their National Citizen Service, the residential part, at the same centre, though not at the same time. So naturally we now need to find out if the latest presumed victim, Gary Heath, did the same.

  ‘The other thing I’d like each local force to concentrate on, please, is the possibility that The Preacher keeps his victims in something like an old church. Darren has talked about another church. He reacted to the photo of the church where his phone was found but he still kept talking about another church. We’ve found that it’s often surprisingly inexpensive to buy a decommissioned church. So can you all please check your own areas. Are there any such buildings? Have any been sold in the last three to four years? Can we try and get someone out to take a look at them and see if there’s any signs of recent activity there.’

  ‘Vicarages too, sir?’ an officer Ted didn’t know by sight asked.

  ‘Yes, please, good point. Anything with a church connection. Churches, church halls, vicarages. DS O’Connell is talking to this man,’ he used the pointer to indicate Harrison, ‘who has visited a great many churches and has seemingly sometimes been given a key for access. We’re also digging deeper into the background of the vicar, Gabriel Clegg. Peter Spencer, as far as we are aware, is currently out of the country.’

  ‘Does that mean he’s out of the frame, sir? If the latest lad was taken while he was away?’

  ‘He’s not out of the frame yet, no. Not until we’ve established for ourselves, rather than just take his word for it, that he is on the continent. My team are working on that now.’

  The ACC was still waiting when the briefing broke up. Ted had hoped to slink away without talking to him but it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to.

  ‘You don’t need to hide, Ted. We’re good. Moment of madness, all forgotten. Good briefing, exactly as I’d have run it. Let’s get him, and soon. And I meant what I said. For something like this, and as high profile as this, budgets can be stretched. Just ask me.’

  ‘Hello, again, DS O’Connell, Peter Spencer, once more. Contrite, humble, and more than slightly embarrassed as I realise you must now be convinced I’m guilty of something for failing to contact you, as promised. I opted for a homely B&B rather than an impersonal hotel last night so guess what? No Wifi! I hadn’t even considered the possibility.’

  ‘Thank you for getting back in touch, Peter. I really do need to ask you about some specific dates, just so I can eliminate you from our enquiries.’

  ‘I doubt I’ll have all the answers off the top of my head, but you could email me the dates. I’ll check through my diaries and get back to you with the answers as soon as I can, hopefully this evening. I keep such stuff on my laptop. I’ll be sure to pick a hotel with Wifi then we can see one another via Skype, although I’m still not sure why you’d want to. My email is organist.peter@gmail.com.’

  ‘Where are you at the moment, Peter?’

  ‘In a small town in Germany. You can probably hear the TV news channel in the background. I’ve no idea what they’re saying. My German is fairly basic, but I can follow the pictures. Hang on, I’ll just mute the volume.’

  ‘You didn’t take your car, though?’

  ‘No, I much prefer to travel by train. Look, I’m sorry to hurry you but I’ve just realised the battery is going flat on me. I thought I’d put in on to charge last night but I’m so inept with anything electronic I can’t have plugged the lead in properly or something. I’m hopeless!’ he laughed.

  ‘Which ferry crossing did you travel on? I’ve heard the North Sea one is a good route for Germany. Hello? Hello? Peter?’

  The phone had gone dead. Rob had
no way of knowing whether the man he’d been speaking to was, as he said, simply not technically minded or whether he was giving him the run-around. So far, he hadn’t found the man’s name listed as a foot passenger on any of the ferries he’d tried. These days, that of itself didn’t mean much. With sometimes relaxed border controls in place for travelling within Europe, it wasn’t always as easy as it had once been to track people coming and going on the ferries on foot.

  ‘Is that DC Ellis? Steve? Hello, again. This is Hazel, from the estate agent. We spoke before?’ The voice at the end of the phone went up at the end of the sentence, making a statement into a question.

  ‘Yes, I remember. Did you have an update for me?’ Steve asked.

  ‘I wanted to apologise. When you phoned I wasn’t really thinking straight. I’d just found my boyfriend’s been cheating on me and … Well, you don’t want to hear any of that. I just wasn’t really on the ball. You asked about anyone buying any of the old churches and I said no. But then I remembered that someone did rent one of them. They don’t sell well, because of the lack of planning permission for residential development use, in many cases.

  ‘I don’t have any details for you yet because I deal with sales, rather than rentals. You’d need to speak to my boss, Alison and she’s out of the office at the moment. I can’t give you the details anyway without checking with her first, but I thought it might just be helpful if you knew that information was coming.’

  ‘That’s incredibly helpful, Hazel, thanks so much. I really appreciate it. This could be very important to our enquiries.’

  Ted and Jo were not yet back from going to visit Gary Heath’s parents. Rob O’Connell and Mike Hallam were both in the office so Steve conveyed the message he’d just received.

  ‘Did she say which church? Where?’

  Steve shook his head. ‘She didn’t have it to hand. It needs to come from her boss and she’s out of the office at the moment.’

  ‘We need that information and we need it now. There’s just a possibility that The Preacher may be the one who rented the church and that could be where he’s holding Gary. Give me details of where the agent is and I’ll try to get the nearest station to send someone straight round there. If necessary, I’ll sort out a warrant. But we need that information.’

  ‘Is it the same man who’s got our Gary, Inspector? The one who did those terrible things we heard about on the telly?’

  Gary Heath’s mother looked distraught. It wasn’t all that long that her son had been missing but she and her husband were clearly not stupid. They’d seen the press conference, they knew the significance of their son’s mobile phone having been found at a church, as they’d now been informed.

  They’d appeared reassured by two senior officers calling on them in person. At least it showed the police were taking the disappearance of their son seriously, although he’d not been missing for all that long.

  ‘The simple truth is that for now, Mr and Mrs Heath, we don’t know and it would be wrong of me to mislead you. There are a number of similarities between the cases, not just involving where the phone was found. Would Gary have done anything like National Citizen Service?’

  The couple looked puzzled.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve heard of that Citizen thing,’ Gary’s father replied. ‘Have we, love? Is it something they do through school or college or something?’

  ‘I don’t think our Gary did it. I’m sure he’d have told us if he did.’

  ‘Part of it involves going away to something like an outdoor adventure centre. Did Gary ever do anything like that? Or any other sort of Outward Bound things? Scouts or Boys Brigade, perhaps?’

  ‘That wouldn’t really be our Gary’s sort of thing. He’s not sporty at all. If it was like camping or anything he’d hate it. He’s afraid of spiders and daddy long legs, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Is he musical at all? Does he play a musical instrument?’

  ‘He sings beautifully,’ she told him. ‘Not in a choir or anything, but he’s really ever so good. He loves singing but he’s a shy lad, he wouldn’t do it to an audience.’

  ‘Was he ever in a choir? Are you church-goers at all? Did he perhaps sing at church?’

  ‘We’re not religious at all, any of us. Our Gary wouldn’t sing in public, not even in church if he ever went. He’s very sensitive. He’s gay, you know. Did you know that?’

  ‘Yes, I did, Mrs Heath. He has a steady boyfriend, I understand?’

  ‘Yes, Roger. He’s a lovely lad. So polite. They make a lovely couple. They’re only kids, of course, really. I’d like to think they’d stay together a bit, though, they’re so good together.’

  ‘Perhaps you can give us Roger’s contact details so we can have a talk with him. Do you happen to know, either of you, if Gary knows anyone called Simon? Has he ever mentioned a Simon?’

  ‘Well, Roger has an older brother called Simon. He’s in the Army, he’s not home much. I don’t think our Gary’s actually met him but Roger talks about him quite a lot. I think he’s very proud of his brother. Simon has served in Afghanistan, I think it was. He has medals for it.’

  ‘I know you’ll have given a recent photo of Gary to the local police to help in the search for him, but do you have one handy that I could just have a look at, please?’

  The boy’s mother stood up and went over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. She took a framed photo down from a shelf, gave the glass a little wipe with her sleeve, smiling at the image looking up at her, then handed it to Ted.

  ‘This is our Gary. It was taken last year when he left school, when he was all dressed up for their prom.’

  She handed the photo to Ted. He looked down at a fresh, open face, slightly chubby, lingering puppy fat, smiling broadly for the camera. Ginger hair was jelled into submission and he was clearly wearing his best clothes for the occasion.

  ‘Please find him, Inspector,’ his mother implored, tears in her eyes and a catch in her voice. ‘He’s such a good lad. It’s just not like him to worry us like this. He’s always so considerate. Even if he’s just going to be a bit late, he always rings to let us know. Please find him. Please don’t let anything happen to him.’

  Chapter Twenty-four

  There was an air of high anticipation in the courtroom when Ted got there. The jury were still out, so he found Jim Baker, waiting outside, to ask him for news of the case and give him an update on the latest kidnap.

  ‘The jury have been out a couple of hours but our team are still convinced it’s going to be a relatively quick decision. I’ve been watching carefully and my gut feeling is that Morgane’s blown it for herself with all that smiling she does. The more she smiles at people, the more it’s clear it’s nothing but a learned response. Something she knows people do, but she doesn’t know the rules of why or when it’s appropriate. I’ve noticed she sometimes makes some members of the jury look a bit uncomfortable. So let’s hope that means that the verdict goes in our favour.

  ‘I’ve got a couple of Uniforms on standby ready to deal with Edwards if he does kick off. In a way it’s good that you’re here as you’re clearly like a red rag to a bull, as far as he’s concerned. If anything makes him lose it completely, seeing you here will do, especially as he no doubt knows by now that your Trev is safe.

  ‘So what’s happening with the latest missing lad? Has he turned up’

  ‘No, not yet. The longer he’s out of touch, the more I think The Preacher has him.’

  ‘Can you find him?’

  ‘We’re doing everything we can, Jim. You know that.’

  There was a stirring of movement among those waiting outside the room. Word had gone out that the jury were back.

  ‘Well, this is it. Let’s see if we’ve won.’

  Ted and Jim slid into seats next to one another. Jim glanced to see if the uniformed officers were in place and they gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

  Ted found his mouth was dry. He and the team had worked so hard to bring thi
s case to court. Depending on the whim of twelve complete strangers, it could still all be to no avail.

  The forewoman of the jury was asked to stand. It was an encouraging start when she reported that the jury had reached a unanimous verdict. Then the first of the charges was read out and she was asked what the finding was.

  ‘Guilty, Your Honour.’

  Clive Edwards, Morgane’s father, was on his feet in an instant, his face darkening in fury. It was to Ted he turned, his accusing arm outstretched, as he shouted, ‘This is all your fault, you perverted little bastard! You framed her! You framed my little girl. I’ll get you for this. I’ll bloody get you.’

  Before the judge even had time to order his removal, the two police officers, at a gesture of confirmation from Jim Baker, appeared alongside the shouting man and escorted him, swiftly and efficiently, from the courtroom.

  It was now just a formality. It was clear the verdict was going to be the same on all counts. It still gave Ted a great deal of satisfaction to hear it announced. Guilty on five charges of murder and one of arson. The court was adjourned for further reports to be prepared before sentencing but, with luck, it was going to be some considerable time before Morgane Edwards would even be considered for release.

  Before she was escorted out of the court, she turned her blue-eyed gaze in Ted’s direction. He had expected to see naked hate in her expression. Instead, the softness in her eyes and the warmth of the smile she sent his way was one of the most profoundly disturbing things he’d ever seen in more than twenty years as a police officer.

  ‘Hi, it’s me.’

  ‘Ted, you say that every time and I know who’s calling me, from the screen,’ Trev told him patiently, as he had so many times before. ‘How did the court case go?’

  ‘Guilty on all charges, thankfully. Adjourned for sentencing.’

  ‘That’s good news. It must be a relief. I suppose you’re phoning to say you’ll be late again tonight?’

  ‘Sorry, yes. We’ve got this live ongoing kidnap so I’m not going to make it to the dojo at all, most likely. Not for self-defence nor for judo. In fact, I’ve no idea what time I’ll be home. It could easily turn into an all-nighter, if we can pin down where the latest young lad is being held.’