Tainted: A DI Colin Strong Investigation (The Wakefield Series Book 4)

by David Evans

  So what prompted the CID officers to delve into his past? Who was his real father? What was he saying? His real father was dead. This … this imposter … This character who was being called his ‘biological’ father … he wasn’t his ‘real’ Dad. But who was this mysterious taxi driver? He’d managed to avoid telling his mum he knew something about this man. What she told him only added weight to Stainmore’s scribblings. But if that bore out, who was HC?

  The sky was growing dark, not just because of the impending storm; daylight would have gone, even if it had been a sunny afternoon. Gary struggled to gather his thoughts again. Was there anything significant about the timing of this? Did something come to light during the current CID investigations? What was on those whiteboards he’d seen up there? The two murders – the man in the park toilets and the body discovered behind the convenience store on Dewsbury Road. Was there a connection in those investigations linking to the mysterious taxi driver? He’d have to get back in there again to look.

  60

  “I can’t believe you’ve let her walk out of here with no more than a promise to persuade this kid to come and talk to us, guv.” Stainmore was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Sometimes you just need to have a little faith, Kelly.” Strong was calmly seated beside her, looking over the notes he’d taken during the interview they’d had with Susan. Sammy hadn’t been able to add anything to Susan’s story and had left the station about half an hour before.

  After Susan had told them about Danny, they’d driven down to where the boy went to school and parked on a nearby street. Susan had got out, hoping to meet up with him.

  “What if she doesn’t?”

  “Relax. We know where he lives.”

  Any further discussion was cut short as Strong’s mobile rang. After a brief conversation, he ended the call. “That was Luke,” he said.

  “What news from the scene?” Stainmore asked.

  “They found Thompson’s wallet in Pollock’s jacket.”

  She nodded. “That could be good, although he may just have found it.”

  “But then they also discovered a sock with chunks of red brick inside which they’re testing now. Looked like traces of blood on the material but they’re running tests.”

  Stainmore nodded, took a deep breath and exhaled. “She’d better come back,” she said.

  * * *

  Susan stood at the school gates, hunched into her coat, hands thrust deep into the pockets, keeping a watchful eye on the children as they emerged from the building. Just as she was wondering if she might have the wrong school, she saw him come out with a couple of other lads. Eventually, he looked up and made eye contact.

  A slight move of her head and she strolled off down the road. He would follow, she was sure. She wondered if news of the grim discovery in the allotments had broken.

  A few minutes later, Danny had caught up with her. She slowed. “Have you heard?” she asked.

  He was also walking with his hands in his pockets. “No, what?”

  “Billy the Fish.”

  “What about him?”

  “He won’t be a danger for you Danny. He was found dead this afternoon.”

  Danny stopped. “How? I mean, are you sure?”

  “Fairly sure. It was me who found him.”

  The boy looked stunned. “Are the police involved?”

  “They turned up the same time as me.”

  “You told them?”

  “They were already looking for him. They must have had a lead.” She watched his face as he took this in. “What are you doing now, Danny?”

  “Me? I’ve got to go and check on Mum.” He started walking again.

  “The police need to talk to you.”

  He stopped, turned and looked at her. “No way. I’m not grassing on anyone.”

  “Nobody’s asking you to do that. But, like I said, Billy can’t hurt you now. And you need to tell them what you told me, what you saw that night. Mark was your friend, right?”

  Danny nodded his head.

  “Well you need to do that for him. For his mum and his family. I’ll come with you, if you like?”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course. Now the officer that needs to talk to you is a nice guy. He helped me last year, and he’s helped a good friend of mine too. He’ll look after you.”

  “Do I need to go to the police station?”

  “Not yet. He’s waiting in a car round the corner. I’ll take you there and stay with you.” She watched him as he processed this information.

  “Okay,” he finally said.

  * * *

  “There you are, Kelly,” Strong said looking through the windscreen and indicating the two figures walking towards them. “Told you to have some faith.”

  Susan opened the rear nearside door and Danny slid in, shuffling across so she could join him.

  “Danny, this is DI Strong,” she said. “And DS Stainmore. I’ve said you wanted to speak to him after what happened this afternoon.”

  Strong half turned in his seat to face the boy. “This is really helpful, Danny,” he said. “I understand you may have seen something on the night Mark Thompson died.”

  “Is it true?” the boy asked.

  “Is what true?”

  “That Billy is dead?”

  “We believe so. You knew him?”

  Danny nodded. “Weirdo. Got into drugs and all sorts.”

  “Did you see him on that night?”

  Another vigorous nod before he looked up at Strong, tears in his eyes. “He did it, you know. He attacked Mark.”

  Strong threw Stainmore a brief glance. “Now this is important, Danny. Can you tell us exactly what you saw?”

  The boy swept a sleeve under his nose and wiped his eyes. “I was on my bike, going home, heading down Dewsbury Road – not the main road, the small one that runs in front of the houses.”

  “I know it.”

  “I was about to bounce up onto the pavement and cut the corner on the grass when I saw Billy creeping around the back of the chippy near the corner of Townley Road. So I quickly swerved and went to go round the other side of the building. But before I got to the road I heard some shouting… from the other side of the chippy like.”

  “Go on, Danny,” Strong encouraged. “You’re doing well.”

  “I stopped at the corner – the chippy was closed. I didn’t want to be seen by Billy. That’s when I saw Mark walking up the road. And it was him that Billy was shouting at. Mark was trying to ignore him. I don’t know, maybe Billy’d been smoking something but he was getting more irate. Mark was about to walk past him and asked him what his problem was. The next thing, Billy swung his arm round and something from his hand hit Mark on the head. Mark staggered to his knees. I heard Mark say something like, “You daft bastard.” Then Billy swung again and hit him a second time and shouted, “Give me what you’ve got.”

  This time, Danny folded, huge sobs coming from his shaking frame. Susan put an arm around him and tried to offer him a handkerchief but he just buried his head in her shoulder.

  Strong let out a big sigh and looked to Stainmore.

  “We’ll need to get a proper statement,” she said quietly.

  Strong turned back to the boy. “I realise how difficult this is for you, Danny,” he said. “But can you tell us what happened next … when you’re ready.”

  Susan rubbed his shoulder and gently eased his head back from her arm. “It’s okay, Danny,” she said. “You’re doing really well.”

  Through sobs, he went on to tell how he had been frightened that Billy would spot him so he went back the way he’d come on his bike and made it home by another route. He just thought Billy had mugged Mark. He didn’t realise how serious it was until all the police activity by the convenience store the following afternoon. Even then, he didn’t realise it was Mark they’d found. It was only later he heard. But he was scared Billy would find out he’d seen him.

  Later that e
vening, Danny made a formal statement at Wood Street, Susan acting as appropriate adult. He didn’t want his mother involved. She was ill and he and his older brother cared for her.

  After Susan had left to take him home, Strong was about to do the same when DCS Flynn collared him in the corridor.

  “So, is this character you discovered this afternoon the murderer of Mark Thompson, Colin?” he asked.

  “It’s looking that way, sir. Forensics have confirmed the trace material found on the sock with bits of brick in it is human blood. We’re waiting to see if the DNA’s a match for Thompson. His empty wallet was found in the shed along with the body of William Pollock.”

  “And Mark Thompson was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  “It would seem so from what the lad has just told us. Obviously, we’ll be investigating Pollock’s background and the results of the PM will tell us more.”

  “Well done.”

  “It was good policing from the team. Kelly’s persistence with the CCTV and pursuing the off-licence manager, Luke’s arrest of the female and altogether the processing of the information that came to light.”

  “Have you given any thought to what we discussed earlier?” Flynn obviously referring to the soon to be vacant DCI position.

  “No, sir.”

  Flynn gave him a look. “And now all we need to get to the bottom of is the Weaver case,” he went on.

  “And don’t forget the review of the Claire Hobson murder. I’m waiting for Gilfoyle to come back to me once he’s spoken with Paul Nichols, or however he calls himself now.”

  “Well keep me informed of that, Colin. I mean it’s not a full-blown re-investigation of the case at the moment but … if this is a significant find …”

  Strong watched Flynn walk off then made his way out of the building.

  * * *

  “You did really well there, Danny.” Susan was driving him home after they’d left Wood Street.

  The boy didn’t answer. He still seemed traumatised by the effort of reliving the events of a week and a half ago. Eventually, he mumbled something.

  “Sorry, what was that?” Susan asked.

  “I said I hoped he wasn’t into any drug deals.”

  “Who?”

  “Mark. He said he wasn’t. But with Billy approaching him and telling him to give him what he’d got.”

  “Have you ever known Mark to be involved with drugs?”

  Danny shook his head.

  “So what makes you think he might have been?”

  A shrug then, “I dunno. It was just when he asked me to … It doesn’t matter now.”

  Susan swung the car off the main road and onto an estate road before pulling to a halt. She looked over at Danny. “If there’s something else, you can tell me, you know.”

  “He wouldn’t tell me what he was up to but it involved a lot of money.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Danny put his head down for a second before telling Susan all he could remember about Mark contacting him and asking him to take delivery of a bag and how he had to wait at the back of a hedge for it to be pushed through. Danny had scooped it up then the man had made to grab it back but he’d been too quick for him and he’d made off with it. Later he met up with Mark and handed it over, receiving a £20 note for his trouble. “But the bloke had driven round for ages afterwards,” Danny said. “Looking for me … but I was too fly. I know this estate inside out.”

  Susan smiled. “I’ll bet you do. So you got the impression this bag contained money?”

  “Yeah. I asked him if it was to do with drugs but he said not.”

  “And did you believe him?”

  “I think so. But then, what else was the cash for?”

  “Indeed.”

  “He just said it was about teaching someone a lesson.”

  “So was there anything else about this man you can remember?”

  “He was driving a Beamer,” he said. “A big one.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not really, he was old. Well, not a pensioner but he wasn’t young.”

  Susan smiled at an eleven-year-old’s perception of age.

  “And then …” he went on. “He had a tattoo on his arm. Here.” Danny indicated his left forearm.

  “And what was it?”

  “Dunno, some sort of crest I think.”

  Susan pulled away from the kerb. “Okay Danny, let’s get you home.”

  61

  Wednesday 27th February 2002

  TWENTY-YEAR-OLD MURDER STILL UNSOLVED

  On a cold damp Sunday morning almost twenty years ago the body of 14-year-old Claire Hobson was discovered by two young boys in railway sidings in Horbury just outside Wakefield. She had been raped and strangled, having disappeared on her way home from a friend’s house the Friday before.

  So far, no-one has ever been charged in connection with these offences.

  As the anniversary of this shocking crime approaches, the Yorkshire Post will be reporting on the traumatic effects this has had on Claire’s family and friends, as well as appealing for fresh information which may lead to a breakthrough.

  Strong folded up his copy of that morning’s Yorkshire Post and stood up from his desk. Souter and Susan had both been credited with the article. Souter had told him in the pub a few weeks back that he’d been asked to write a human-interest story combined with a fresh appeal. No doubt Flynn would have been contacted and get a mention. He made a mental note to ask him. In the meantime, he had a briefing to conduct.

  “Okay, listen up everybody,” Strong announced as he stood in front of the whiteboards in the CID Room. “It looks likely we can close down the Thompson enquiry now, thanks to some good work by you lot.” He looked over towards Ormerod. “Luke, can you tell us what we know about William Pollock?”

  The DC reported on the findings of the post-mortem, cause of death by an overdose of heroin, extra pure by all accounts. The wallet found in Pollock’s jacket pocket was confirmed as belonging to Thompson and analysis of material found on the sock containing broken brick was also confirmed as being the blood and DNA of Mark Thompson.

  “So with Danny King’s statement we think we know what happened that night, plus the statement of Simon Glover increases the circumstantial evidence we have,” Strong summarised.

  A few murmurings were heard from the assembled officers.

  “Now, Marcus Weaver.” Strong turned his attention to the first whiteboard they’d set up in the Incident Room nearly two weeks previously. “Let’s focus on this.” He tapped a photo of the victim then faced the room. “What do we know?”

  Ormerod took up the hint. “Arranged to meet Charlotte Watkins, a work colleague in his car in the park’s car park at seven-thirty on Wednesday 13th February. She was late – turned up around seven-fifty. They were disturbed by some activity near the toilet block about eight o’clock which Weaver went to investigate. Some ten minutes later, Charlotte gets a call from her husband and when Weaver hasn’t returned, she takes off.”

  “And the body is discovered by the dog walker at …?” Strong prompted.

  “Around eight-twenty.”

  “What about our witness? The one who approached those two characters, also seen by the dog walker.”

  Ormerod referred to his notes and related descriptions of two men outlined by Timothy Pearson who had been lurking around the toilets that night.

  “So, two men, one in his fifties, short, stocky, around five six and a younger man, early to mid-twenties, taller, around five ten,” Strong repeated, drawing two boxes for the descriptions with a marker pen. “Any other witness statements referring to these two?”

  “Ties in with what the dog walker told us, guv,” Ormerod confirmed, “but other than that, nothing.”

  Strong tapped the marker against the palm of his hand as he thought for a second. “What about this car seen on CCTV, Sam?” he asked Kirkland. “Are we definitely connecting it to this incident?”


  The DC was leaning on the front of his desk. “Haven’t been able to get any better images,” he said. “We don’t know if there is any connection but we saw a similar one on the night Thompson was killed, as well as the previous evening. But, if we now know it was this character Pollock who attacked him, there’s no real connection.”

  Strong looked over to Ormerod again. “Have you managed to speak to Brannigan again, Luke?”

  “Not yet. I can get over there after this briefing, if you want.”

  “Do that.” Strong was quiet for a second, studying the board. “We’ve got to be missing something here.” He turned round to face the group. “No matches for those prints found on that disturbed cistern cover?”

  “Nothing, guv,” Stainmore said, “Might not have anything to do with it.”

  “I know, but we need to explore every avenue.”

  Stainmore waved a pen in the air. “Just a thought,” she said. “With this article in this morning’s Post, do you think it would be worth an appeal for witnesses to this in the park? You know, anonymity guaranteed etcetera. Anyone who was there for a … clandestine reason might not be too keen unless we persuade them?”

  “Nothing to lose, I suppose,” Strong considered. “You lot put the word out before to your connections on the street and we got next to nothing. Okay, Kelly, get in touch with the Post and see if they’ll run something.”

  Strong had only just rested his backside in the chair in his office when the desk phone rang.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “DI Strong?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s DCS Gilfoyle, Joe,” the familiar voice responded.

  “Morning sir, what news?”

  “I’ve spoken to our mutual friend and he’s agreed to talk to you, face to face. How long would it take for you to get over to Stoke?”