Preacher Man: 'their blood shall be upon them' (Ted Darling crime series Book 9)
Page 30
The fatigue was showing on his face now and his voice was getting weaker.
‘Mr Spencer, may I just ask you a couple of questions before we finish?’
Spencer finished drinking and nodded wearily.
‘Did you kill your father, Mr Spencer?’
He gave a wan smile.
‘To my eternal shame, I didn’t. I wanted to. I so badly wanted to. But you could say that I engineered his death. He drank too much. He’d started drinking heavily after my mother died and it got much worse when I tried to tell him about the bishop. He was always critical of me, of everything I did. Nothing was ever good enough, especially since the time I’d tried to talk to him. Things were never the same between us after that.
‘I’d thought many times of moving out, of leaving him to rot and going to make a new life for myself somewhere else. I found I didn’t have the courage. Nor the financial means.
‘One evening we had a row. That was nothing new, but this was a particularly heated one. It was something and nothing. He didn’t like the arrangement of something I’d played at a wedding. Said it was too modern, disrespectful. As he was going up the stairs, clearly the worst for wear, I was shouting at him from the hall, provoking him.
‘He got to where the stairs made a right-angle turn. He was trying to look back at me, to finish the argument. He slipped and lost his footing. The stairs were polished oak, uncarpeted. Lethal, even if you were sober. He fell heavily all the way to the bottom. His head made rather a satisfying noise as it hit the quarry tiles near to where I was standing.
‘I stood and watched him die. I could probably have done something to prevent it. But I did nothing. Then I called the ambulance. I simply told them, and the police who came as well as a matter of routine, that I’d been in the church practising and had come back to find him dead at the foot of the stairs. Everyone believed me. Why wouldn’t they? I was the fine, upstanding son of a vicar. I couldn’t possibly be telling lies.’
‘Thank you, Mr Spencer. And the bishop who abused you. Is he still alive, do you know?’
‘He’s an old man now, in his eighties, long since retired. I believe he lives in a care home for former clergy. But yes, as far as I know, he is still alive.’
The team were quiet for a moment when Rob finished playing the recorded interview. Jo was the first to speak.
‘There is almost some kind of perverted logic behind what he set out to do, I suppose. I don’t condone any of it, of course, but after all it’s not uncommon for an abuse victim to go on to become an abuser.’
‘Good work, Rob. With a bit of luck, he’s not going to deny any of it and we should get a good conclusion. He may well be sent to a secure psychiatric unit, at least initially, but he should hopefully be off the streets for some time. Especially if we can get any kind of statement from the three surviving victims. What’s the latest on that?’
‘Gary’s fine now he’s back with his family, boss, and they’re all very supportive of him. He’s starting to talk and he’ll make a good witness if we need him. I told Darren we had The Preacher and he cried. He tried to talk a bit so as long as he can get some sort of ongoing help, which is always tricky, I know, he might be able to give us a statement at some point in the future,’ Maurice told them.
‘Tim is looking loads better but still not saying much,’ Jezza put in. ‘The problem there is that they’re already making noises about moving him on as they need the bed. Then what’s going to happen to him, with nowhere to go and no kind of support in place?’
‘All we can do is ask Lincolnshire to try to keep an eye on him and see if there’s not some sort of support he could tap into – if he’d accept that,’ Ted replied. ‘Any news of Simon Ashton?’
Head shakes all round. There were now so many homeless ex-serviceman that he was just another statistic and their hopes of tracing him were slim.
‘Well done, everyone, good result. Why don’t we all try to finish at a reasonable time tonight, get back to our nearest and dearest before the middle of the night, for once. Thanks, all of you, for your hard work on this. It’s appreciated. The Super also passed on her thanks.’
‘Boss, just one thing, before we knock off,’ Rob put in. ‘I’d like to start up a historical child abuse enquiry. I want to go after that bishop, while he’s still alive. There’s no excuse for what Spencer did and he’s not using that as an excuse. He accepts full responsibility. But who’s to say if Spencer would have turned out that way if he hadn’t been interfered with for years, and in particular, if his father hadn’t refused to believe him?’
Ted looked at him, considering. He knew it was something Rob was likely to feel deeply about. He’d told Ted in confidence that he’d experienced similar abuse as a boy when he’d been put into temporary foster care.
‘You’ve been given information of a serious crime having been committed and information that the perpetrator is still alive. I think you would be negligent in your duties if you didn’t open an enquiry, Rob.’
Chapter Thirty
The curtains were drawn round Bill’s bed when Ted got to the ward. He’d been told Bill was still refusing visitors but he’d used his not inconsiderable charm, and his warrant card, to be allowed to see him, on the strict understanding that he kept it brief.
The reception he got was hardly warm. Bill was sitting up in bed, looking paler and older than his actual years. He scowled at Ted and pulled the sheet protectively closer. He was wearing a hospital gown and had a drip in one arm.
‘What are you doing here? I said no visitors.’
‘I’m not a visitor, I’m a friend, you miserable old bugger. I thought you’d want to know how Jack was doing.’
There was no sign of a chair and perching on the bed felt too much like an invasion of Bill’s personal space, so Ted remained standing. The neighbour had been right; he was a private man.
‘Is he all right?’
For a moment, his face was less hostile.
‘He’s all right but Trev is threatening to leave me. He hates birds and Jack made a beeline for him when I let him out and started trying to pull his hair out. And he crapped on his favourite new riding breeches. The cats are afraid of him, too.’
The ghost of a smile passed over Bill’s face.
‘How are you, anyway?’ Ted asked him.
‘I have the worst hangover in living memory. Apparently the alcohol poisoning was worse than the pills. I didn’t take enough of them to do much harm.’
‘Where did you get the pills?’
‘The doctor gave me something to help me sleep. I’ve been fretting about this retirement rubbish for months now. The nearer it got to Monday morning and no job to go to, the more I just couldn’t take it. I suppose that sounds daft.’
‘Not daft at all. We should all have realised and been more supportive. I’m sorry you were let down, Bill. But the Super says to tell you your new job is waiting for you, as planned, as long as you’re well enough to come back.’
Bill lowered his head, looking suddenly emotional.
‘Thanks. I’m sorry I was a prick,’ he muttered.
‘Look, I had an idea. I think you should find a lodger.’
‘A lodger? What the bloody hell for? I don’t need the money, with my pension and then my new job. And if you think Jack is hard to live with, let me tell you I’m far worse.’
‘But I’m not thinking of the benefits to you. You’ve got a lot to offer, not just a spare room in your house. On this latest case we’ve come across people who are homeless through no fault of their own. I’m not meaning them specifically but there are lots of people like them. They can’t break out of the vicious circle without an address. You’re bloody good with people, Bill. Look how much you helped me when I first came to the nick.’
Bill gave a snort of amusement.
‘I remember you, the first time you walked through the doors. Bloody full of yourself. Like a little bantam cock, ready to pick a fight with any bigger cockerel who got
in your way. Someone had to take you under their wing before you got yourself in serious trouble.’
‘Exactly! I’d not have made it, certainly not to DCI, without you keeping an eye on me. So will you at least think of it? You might just be able to help someone turn their life around.’
Ted could hear Trev’s voice in the sitting room when he quietly opened the front door and went into the house. The kitchen door was firmly shut and from inside he heard Jack shouting and swearing away at the top of his voice. Ted put his things down in the hall and went into the sitting room. Trev was on his mobile, talking animated French. Ted didn’t understand what he was saying but he could imagine what the subject was. He bent down to kiss him and waited for him to finish the call.
‘I let the vulture out, like you asked. It tried to savage me so the cats and I have taken refuge in here and I am not going back in that kitchen until the thing has gone. So either you cook or it’s takeaways for every meal. How is Bill, by the way?’
‘I’m sorry about Jack. I’ll go and have a word with him. And Bill’s doing much better, you’ll be pleased to hear. They’re hoping to send him home tomorrow, as long as he accepts a bit of help. I brought you something, to make up for the invasion.’
He went back out into the hall, then returned and plonked a small kitten on Trev’s lap. He’d smuggled one of the cat carriers out of the garage when he’d left for work and called on Doug after his visit to the hospital.
‘Oh my god, Ted! You said we couldn’t have one. Is it a boy or a girl?’
‘It’s a boy. And I decided you deserved a present after all I’ve put you through recently.’
Trev gently picked the little cat up and looked at it. Its small pink mouth opened in a soundless meow.
‘He is absolutely gorgeous!’
Beauty was truly in the eye of the beholder. Doug had been right about the kitten. He really was an ugly little bugger. He was almost all white, with a great disfiguring splodge of dark colouring across almost half of his head and face. His eyes were different colours and one ear resolutely refused to stand up like the other one. His front legs were somewhat bandy. Ted could hear his mother’s voice in his head, saying the cat could never stop a pig in a poke. The physical attributes all added up to making the kitten look rather clown-like. It was easy to see why Doug had said he was not worth showing, despite coming from pedigree stock.
But Trev had him cuddled against his cheek, stroking the soft fur and murmuring gently to him. The kitten clearly knew it had landed on its paws as it was purring away loudly, totally unafraid. The rest of the cats were looking up at this new intruder with a mixture of curiosity and hostility.
‘I know I’ve been neglecting you lately. And I let you be put at risk. I should never have let you appear in that photo with me. Edwards and your two kidnappers are out of harm’s way for now and will hopefully go down. But no more appearing with me in public. Not in any photos, certainly, and definitely not with your name in the caption. I don’t want anything like that happening to you again.
‘CPS think Edwards’ own legal team will advise him against appealing Morgane’s conviction or sentence, whatever it is. They’re bound to tell him his actions are going to go against him. But it’s happened once and I’m going to do everything I can to see nothing like that ever happens again.’
What he didn’t tell Trev was that he’d arranged for the photo of the two of them together at the awards ceremony to be removed from the GMP site and archives. He’d also sweet-talked the local reporter, Penny Hunter, into getting it removed from the newspaper site, on the promise of plenty of tip-offs to come as a reward. It wouldn’t stop anyone really determined from digging into his personal life, but it was at least something.
‘What will you call him?’
Trev had transferred the kitten to his lap where it lay on its back, eyes closed in bliss, having its tummy tickled. Queen, the senior cat, had jumped up on to the sofa next to them and was sniffing warily at the newcomer.
‘Well if he’s coming to join Queen, he has to be called Adam, doesn’t he?’
They were both big fans of Queen’s music who had accepted Adam Lambert as a good addition to the group on tour.
Ted smiled. It was a fitting name. He was pleased that he seemed to have done the right thing. He would do anything to see Trev happy.
His mobile phone interrupted him. An unknown caller, so he answered with a neutral, ‘Hello?’
‘We need to talk, Gayboy.’
It was the unmistakable voice of his martial arts and survival skills trainer, Green. Last heard of on a beach in South Africa. The same beach where later a pile of clothing and a pair of British Army boots had suggested the ocean had claimed another victim.
Ted got up and went back out into the hall before he spoke.
‘I thought you’d drowned off Cape Town.’
‘Then you’re even more stupid than I thought you were. We have unfinished business to attend to. I’ll be in touch.’
THE END
About the Author
L M Krier is the pen name of former journalist (court reporter) and freelance copywriter, Lesley Tither, who also writes travel memoirs under the name Tottie Limejuice. Lesley also worked as a case tracker for the Crown Prosecution Service.
The Ted Darling series of crime novels comprises: The First Time Ever, Baby's Got Blue Eyes, Two Little Boys, When I'm Old and Grey, Shut Up and Drive, Only the Lonely, Wild Thing, Walk on By, Preacher Man.
All books in the series are available in Kindle and paperback format and are also available to read free with Kindle Unlimited.
Contact Details
If you would like to get in touch, please do so at:
tottielimejuice@gmail.com
facebook.com/LMKrier
facebook.com/groups/1450797141836111/
https://twitter.com/tottielimejuice
http://tottielimejuice.com/
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Discover the DI Ted Darling series
If you’ve enjoyed meeting Ted Darling, you may like to discover the other books in the series:
The First Time Ever
Baby’s Got Blue Eyes
Two Little Boys
When I’m Old and Grey
Shut Up and Drive
Only the Lonely
Wild Thing
Walk on By
Preacher Man