Deadly Duty Box Set 1 (Sgt Major Crane Crime Thrillers Box Set)

by Wendy Cartmell

  The kitchen didn’t look any more inviting. Half empty coffee mugs littered the surfaces, mingling with used bottles. The coffee percolator had burnt coffee crusting in the bottom of the jug and Crane turned the machine off before it was completely ruined. Opening the fridge, he found bottles of baby milk, but precious little else. Closing the door instead of slamming it, which was what he really wanted to do, he turned and left the house.

  ***

  “Tom, Tom, wake up!”

  Crane bolted upright on the sofa, instantly awake and looked at Tina, who was wrapping her dressing gown around her and tying the belt.

  “What, where, what time is it?”

  “It’s half past six. The alarm clock woke me up. You’d better go and have a shower and get ready for work. I’ll make coffee. And be quiet – don’t wake Daniel,” shouted Tina, loud enough to wake him herself.

  “Shit,” Crane said as Tina left the room. He grabbed his suit jacket from the floor and followed her at a more sedate pace, as his head was banging. Standing at the kitchen door and leaning against the frame for support, he asked, “Do we have any headache tablets?”

  Tina’s response was to pull open a kitchen drawer, grab the packet and throw it at him, banging the drawer closed afterwards.

  “Shit,” said Crane to himself again, as he dropped the box of tablets. Bending down slowly and picking it up, he clutched the packet to his chest and dragged himself upstairs with the aid of the banister.

  He was back in the kitchen in twenty minutes, damp and exhausted, but ready for work. He fell into a chair and grabbed the mug of black coffee Tina had put on the table for him.

  “Sgt’s Mess?” Tina asked.

  “Mmm,” Crane answered.

  “Because?”

  “Because you were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Try again, Tom.”

  “Because there was nothing to eat and nothing in the fridge to make anything with, so I thought I’d grab something to eat at the Mess.”

  “Looks to me like all you grabbed was beer.”

  “Maybe I had one or two too many.”

  “For God’s sake, Tom, couldn’t you have helped instead of running away?” Tina turned away from him. “I know I’m a bloody awful wife and mother but you didn’t need to rub it in. Making me feel even more of a failure than I do already.” Tina scrabbled in her dressing gown pocket for a tissue and blew her nose.

  “Tina, for God’s sake, not everything is your fault, you know. I had a crappy day and needed to let off a bit of steam, that’s all. Don’t make any more of it than that.”

  “What about my crappy day, though, Tom?” Tina turned on him. “I’d clearly had a crappy day as well. But there’s nowhere for me to go and let off a bit of steam on my own, is there?”

  “Alright, so we’re both under pressure. Okay? Look I haven’t got time for this, Tina, I’ve got to get to work.”

  Crane stood up, moving towards her to kiss her goodbye.

  As if on cue, Daniel started to cry from the nursery upstairs. Pushing past Crane, Tina went upstairs without speaking to him and without kissing him. So Crane poured his coffee down the sink and left for work.

  26

  Crane took a deep breath before knocking on the door to the house. He was not at all sure how he was going to handle this, so had brought Captain Symmonds along for moral and, hopefully, verbal support.

  Kim herself opened the door, immediately putting Crane on the back foot, as he was expecting her mother.

  “Hello, sir?” the question in Kim’s voice unavoidable.

  “Hi, Kim, um, we wondered if we could have a word with you?” he asked, but the words came out in a rush and he looked at Captain Symmonds.

  “Is that alright, Kim?” the Captain asked and as she nodded, the two men followed her through to the sitting room.

  Crane decided that Kim was beginning to look a little better. Her hair had been freshly washed and she was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, rather than being covered from neck to foot in her track suit. However, she was still not making eye contact with either man.

  Once they were all seated she asked, “Do you have any more information for me, sir? About the latest note, I mean.”

  “More info yes, but no leads I’m afraid.” Crane leaned forwards towards Kim who was sitting in an armchair opposite him. “A neighbour reports hearing a crash and then what she thought was the sound of a motor bike racing away. She didn’t see anything, though, so no leads there. I’m afraid we have no idea who threw the brick with the note through the window, nor what sort of bike they were on.”

  “What about forensics, sir?”

  “Still no match to the DNA off the hair follicle we found on, um, we found. I’ve taken a DNA sample from a suspect we have in custody, for comparison, but I’m still waiting on the results,” he finished, trying to disguise the awkwardness he felt. But, he realised, he probably wasn’t fooling anybody.

  “So?” Kim asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “So, why are you really here, sir?”

  Crane stood and began pacing around the room.

  “We really need some help, Kim. This can’t be allowed to go on. The rapes, the murders, this continued stalking.”

  He saw Kim’s face drain of colour but ploughed on.

  “I’ve hatched a plan, but I need your co-operation.” He stood still and stared at her. “All I want you to do for now, is to listen to what I’ve got to say. Will you do that for me, Kim?”

  He watched Kim sit up just that little bit straighter as she said, “Yes, sir.”

  Crane sat back down and went on to outline his plan. He explained he wanted Kim to go to The Goose on Saturday night, to try and flush out this maniac. She wouldn’t be alone. Billy would be there, as would DI Anderson and Crane. Staff Sgt Jones would be outside around the corner and quite a few of the RMP lads would be undercover in the bar. Or at least as undercover as an RMP could be, he had to admit, which raised a smile from Kim.

  “I can arrange for you to go with a specially trained police officer, a female one and a couple of WPC’s so you’d go as a group of girls.”

  “No, I don’t think so, sir.”

  Crane sank back into his seat.

  “It’s alright, I do understand, Kim,” but Crane failed to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

  “No, sir, you’ve misunderstood. I don’t want to go with a few WPCs who I don’t know and don’t understand me and how I’m feeling. I want to go with a male escort. I’d feel a lot safer.”

  Crane leaned forward again.

  “Of course, Kim, anyone, who…” Crane stopped speaking as he saw Kim was looking at Padre Symmonds.

  “Would you accompany me, sir?” she asked the Padre.

  As the Captain nodded his assent, Crane couldn’t resist saying, “Very well, but without your clerical collar please, sir.”

  ***

  “We’re doing what?” Anderson shouted from his desk in the CID office, where Crane was lounging nonchalantly against the door frame.

  “A bit of an undercover operation on Saturday night, with Kim.”

  “Are you lot in the army all mad, Crane? I can’t believe this.”

  Anderson shook his head, his hair flying around as though he was sitting outside in a strong wind.

  “Well, we’re doing it with or without you, Derek. With would be preferable, of course, but...” Crane shrugged.

  “And Kim’s agreed? Are you sure you’ve not bullied her into this?” Anderson cut across Crane’s little show of bravado, narrowing his eyes and looking suspicious.

  “What do you take me for, Derek? I’m not that manipulative!”

  “Really?” Anderson snorted.

  “Really. Now are you in or not?”

  Anderson reluctantly agreed, as Crane always knew he would and they got on with working out the details of their plan. Crane took off his jacket while Anderson ordered cups of tea. After scribbling notes and draw
ing impromptu layouts out of The Goose, they plotted where each surveillance group would stand. Anderson had a list of instructions for the policemen and women and Crane for the RMP. They were just winding up their meeting when Crane’s mobile rang.

  “Crane,” he answered. He hadn’t looked at the caller display and was therefore surprised when it was Tina. At least he thought it was her, speaking between sobs.

  “Tom, where are you? Can you come?” she wailed in his ear.

  “Tina, what the hell’s the matter? Of course I can come, are you at home?”

  “No,” she gulped. “T, T, Tesco.”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Crane closed the phone, grabbed his suit jacket and ran out of Anderson’s office, without any explanation and without his paperwork.

  27

  Crane pulled up as near to the front door of Tesco as he could get, leaping out of the car and running to Tina, who he could see leaning against a wall. She was holding Daniel in her arms, sobbing, with the pushchair next to her. Both Tina and Crane were attracting strange looks from people passing by, but all of them were too intent on either getting into the store to spend their money on stuff they didn’t really need, or getting their loaded trolleys over to their cars before anyone pinched what they’d just bought. So even though Crane and Tina were creating a spectacle, nobody interfered.

  Before he said anything, Crane wrapped his arms around both his wife and child. Tina was red faced and her hair was damp with sweat. She had on a coat she owned before she had the baby, that didn’t fit her anymore, over jeans and a baggy jumper.

  “Are you alright?” he whispered in Tina’s ear.

  She managed to nod against his shoulder.

  “Is Daniel alright?”

  She moved a little so he could see the baby and whispered back, “Yes, he’s fine.”

  “Okay, do you think you can walk to the car? It’s just over there,” he inclined his head.

  Again Tina nodded and Crane saw that at least her tears were drying up.

  As he stepped back, he moved to take Daniel out of Tina’s arms but she screamed, “No, no! Leave him alone!”

  So Crane did as he was asked, collecting the pushchair instead. When they reached the car, Tina still wouldn’t let go of Daniel, so he put her in the back seat with Daniel in her arms and stowed the pushchair in the boot, keeping his fingers crossed all the way home that they didn’t pass a police car and get stopped for not using a baby seat.

  After parking on the drive, he went around the car and opened the door for Tina, who still wouldn’t let him take the child from her. They went into the house and Crane had no choice but to seat them both on the settee. After making some tea and warming a bottle for Daniel, he finally managed to persuade Tina to take their coats off.

  As she was feeding Daniel, she told Crane what happened.

  “I left him in Tesco. Can you believe that? My own baby! I paid for my shopping and then just walked away with the carrier bag, leaving him strapped in the pushchair at the check-out. I only realised what I’d done when I got to the front door of the store and someone came running after me asking if I’d left my baby behind.”

  “What were you thinking of?” Crane asked.

  “You, well, us. I couldn’t get what happened last night out of my head. I still feel I’m such a failure at this mothering and housewife bit. Fancy you coming home after a long day at work and there was no meal and I’m asleep. It’s not right. It’s my fault. I don’t know what to do.”

  Tina broke down in tears once again, but this time let Crane take the dozing baby. He winded Daniel and then went upstairs and put him in his cot. Whilst there, he pulled out his mobile phone and called Tina’s mother.

  Back at Tina’s side he said, “I’ve called your mother, love. Daniel’s asleep, so why don’t you put your feet up on the settee and see if you can get some sleep as well. Your Mum has a key to let herself in, so don’t worry about that and then there’ll be someone here when you wake up. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go back to work.”

  Tina nodded her agreement and lay on the settee. Moments later she was fast asleep. Crane looked at her red rimmed eyes and ravaged face and started to formulate a plan.

  ***

  A quick check on the internet back in his office was all it took to help Crane understand that his wife wasn’t going nuts - it was more than likely she was suffering from post-natal depression. Eventually he managed to speak to their family doctor, who confirmed two vital points. Firstly, Tina needed to understand that seeking help for postnatal depression did not mean that she was a bad mother or unable to cope. In fact, it was these very feelings that were a symptom of the illness, along with her tiredness and inability to look after herself properly. Secondly, and equally important as far as Crane was concerned, post-natal depression needed to be properly treated and wasn’t something she could just snap out of. So it was vitally important that Crane understood Tina needed help and encouragement for the moment, not criticism and sarcasm.

  As a result, he’d talked to friends and family and now had a rota of helpers for Tina. He looked at the timetable on his desk, which he’d hastily sketched out. He’d managed to elicit help from Tina’s mum Carol, Derek Anderson’s wife Jean, a couple of the mums in his street and even Kim, who wanted to be involved to take her mind off her own problems.

  Crane had to admit his own failings in this area. He just didn’t do emotion. He suppressed his emotions so much whilst on duty, that he found it difficult to be ‘a civvy’ when around the family. Since Daniel had been born he had tried harder than ever and acknowledged he loved Tina and Daniel deeply. He’d fight to the death for them, equalling his sense of duty and commitment to the army. But he just didn’t know what to say to Tina when she fell apart, when she wanted to talk about her feelings of guilt and failure. It seemed to him his words of support came out as platitudes.

  So he had come to a realistic decision. Tina needed the help of people who really understood post-natal depression and his rota would ensure she was in the company of her women friends during the day and at night if necessary, when he was working. He’d do what he does best. Organise, co-ordinate and provide practical back-up. In other words, he’d employ his skills as a soldier to best help his family.

  Satisfied with his work for the day, he was leaving the office, clutching his precious timetable when his telephone rang.

  28

  “What?” Crane growled into the telephone.

  “It’s Staff Sgt Jones, sir.” Jones used his own formal title and finished with ‘sir’ Crane noted. His voice must have really conveyed his annoyance and the thought made him smile.

  “This better be good, Staff, I’m just leaving to go home.”

  “Oh it is, sir. We’ve just caught Fitch ‘in the act’ so to speak, in Private Turner’s room in the single men’s barracks.”

  “Bloody hell, I’ll bet that was a sight for sore eyes, well done, Staff.”

  Crane couldn’t believe their good luck.

  “Yes, well, Fitch is claiming it was consensual. But I’m a witness to, well, his, um, rape of Turner.”

  “Okay, who is where and who is with them?”

  “Fitch is locked up in the Guard Room. No visitors allowed. I’m just leaving him to think about the predicament he’s in. Private Turner is with the duty doctor at the moment, having a rape kit examination done.”

  “Good. Get Billy to do forensics on the room right away and then keep Turner company and take his statement. I think Billy is the person Turner trusts most, so he should be the one to take his statement. He might not speak freely to anyone else.”

  “Very well, sir. Are you coming over?”

  “No. It’s not that I don’t want to, but tonight I’m needed at home. Tina’s had a, um, bad day. Tell Billy to leave Turner’s statement in my office. I’ll read it first thing in the morning and then we can interview Fitch afterwards.”

  ***

  Tina had s
omehow lost the shopping she bought, before the fiasco in Tesco. So they were reduced to a plate of pasta covered in a bolognaise sauce for their evening meal. Crane insisted it was one of the best things he had ever eaten and cleared his plate, whilst Tina pushed the pasta around hers, trying to look as though she was eating it. Crane couldn’t watch her not eating anymore, so went to the sink, to wash the dishes from their meagre meal.

  “I’m sorry, Tom,” she mumbled to Crane’s back. As he turned around he saw exhaustion had etched new lines on her face and her normally long sleek dark hair was tied back, to try and hide the fact it needed washing. She was still dressed in the jeans and baggy jumper she was wearing when he collected her from Tesco earlier in the day.

  Drying his hands on a towel, he pulled out a chair and sat back at the table.

  Grasping one of her hands he said, “Tina, please stop apologising.”

  But his words didn’t seem to offer her any comfort, as her tears spilled into the mug she was holding up to her face.

  “I never thought I’d be this useless,” she said hiccupping back sobs. “It’s much harder than working in the bank. I just can’t seem to cope at all.”

  Crane got up and moved his chair so he could sit next to her and put his arm around her, drawing her close. Taking a deep breath Crane decided to embark on the conversation he’d been waiting to have since he got home. It was now or never, he thought.

  “Tina, love, I don’t think you’re very well.”

  “I think you’re right,” she agreed in a small voice, “but I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Well, I think I do. Will you let me help you?”

  “Help me? I’m not sure anyone can. I just can’t seem to shake off this tiredness and guilt. And the more you help around the house and with Daniel, the worse I feel.”