“Sit down then, lad, make yourself comfortable.” A sarcastic statement that Billy smiled at, as there was only one hard plastic, very uncomfortable chair available, that Whadi had just jumped up from.
The Lance Corporal sat rigidly as though still to attention and Crane and Billy joined him at the table.
“We,” Crane indicated Billy, “are investigating a particularly nasty crime with the Aldershot Police. It’s one that you may be able to help us with.”
“How, sir?” Yasin spoke into the silence that Crane had let develop.
“Well, we understand you are a regular at The Goose pub in Aldershot.”
Whadi didn’t reply and looked nervously from one man to the other.
“That is correct isn’t it, Lance Corporal?” Billy said.
“Um, yes, sir, I suppose.”
“You were there last Saturday night?” Crane asked.
“I think so, sir.”
“Think so? Can’t you do better than that?”
“Ah, let me see...”
Billy took his turn, “I’d say it was pretty definite that you were there, seeing as how we have a witness.”
Crane watched the Lance Corporal blanch, his olive skin turning a few shades lighter.
“What do you say now, Lance Corporal?”
“Yes, sir, I was at The Goose on Saturday night.”
“Who did you meet there?” Billy’s hand was poised over his notebook.
“Just a few of the lads, sir.”
“Give us their names then.”
As Whadi gave the names of three friends who were purportedly with him on Saturday night and Billy wrote them down, Crane watched Whadi closely. “Anyone else?” he asked.
“Sir?”
“Did you meet anyone else there?”
“No, sir.” Whadi’s eyes slid away from Crane’s gaze.
“No girls? A good looking bloke like you must pull the birds.”
“No, sir, no girls,” Whadi said to the floor.
Crane thought for a moment and then said, “Okay, we’ll just check these names out, then you can go back to your unit.”
Crane and Billy left Whadi alone with his thoughts in the sweat box. As they stood in the corridor, Billy said, “What do you think, boss?”
“Something’s off there.”
“That’s what I thought. His eyes are all over the place.”
“Yes, especially when I mentioned girls. Check out those lads, Billy. If they all agree they met him in The Goose, pull them in to take statements. See what they have to say about Whadi. Work with Staff Sgt Jones. Let me know what happens.”
“Sir.”
Billy returned to the SIB office, as Crane went outside to think, and smoke a cigarette.
A Letter to Billy
Hi Billy,
Thanks for meeting me earlier. Sorry I made you walk so far around Ash Ranges. It’s just that I wanted to pick a spot where we wouldn’t be overheard. And we weren’t. We didn’t meet another soul the whole time we were there. I find it very peaceful amongst the trees on the Ranges. If you sit still long enough, you can watch squirrels foraging for nuts and spot rabbits popping in and out of their holes. Nature has a calming effect on me, not surprising, I suppose, as people don’t.
I finally told you the name of my attacker whilst we were there. Lance Corporal Fitch. It’s strange knowing that someone else shares your secret, that I have nothing to hide from you. It makes me feel vulnerable.
I don’t always know what to say to you and Sgt Major Crane. I know you have questions, concerns, things you want to ask to me, but I’m not ready for conversations like that. I don’t yet know how to talk about my feelings. I still find it easier to put words down on paper, instead of into my mouth.
I realise you are both trying very hard to understand what has happened to me. But I can see in your faces that you are having trouble relating to me. Or is it perhaps that you are finding these conversations as difficult as I am, but from an entirely different perspective. Your focus has to be on catching the man responsible for this disgusting crime.
I liken my situation to a battle. Only I’m not fighting the enemy, but one of my own. One of the people I’d always been told had my back. That betrayal, the betrayal from someone not only in my unit, but in command, is almost worse than the sexual assault itself.
20
The quietness of the church enveloped Crane as he went from the bright sunshine outside, into the gloom of the interior. Although not a religious man, Crane had great respect for the army Padres, who work tirelessly with the troops both at home and abroad. And great respect for one in particular, Padre Simmons, who Crane was hoping to find in his office.
As Crane threaded his way through the massive structure that was the Army Garrison Church, he couldn’t help remembering his previous encounters in the building, both with Padre Symmonds and an unwelcome attacker. A case that put the lives of Crane and the Padre in danger, as they pursued an egotistical maniac who was encouraging soldiers to follow the steps to Heaven.
By now Crane had reached the Padre’s office, whose voice he had been following through the stone corridors. At first Crane thought the Padre was in a meeting with someone, but soon realised he must be practicing his next sermon. So he stood outside the door, waiting until there was a break in the oratory, before knocking.
“Come in,” Padre Symmonds called. “Ah, Crane, good to see you.”
The Padre came from around his desk to shake Crane’s hand. Padre Symmonds was dressed in a black clerical shirt with his white dog collar and army uniform trousers. His hair was the regulation short length, although he sported rather an old fashioned cut for a youngish Captain. It made him look a bit geeky, which Crane supposed the Padre was, come to think of it. Yes, fastidious and over cautious. Someone who would only work strictly within army rules and regulations.
“Good to see you as well, sir,” Crane said. “Sorry, was I interrupting a practice session?”
Going slightly pink the Padre said, “Well, yes, I do like to rehearse before a particularly important sermon.”
“So do I, sir, rehearse that is, normally before a particularly important conversation with my wife, otherwise I tend to fluff my lines,” Crane grinned.
“So, what brings you here? Do you want to arrange a christening? I hear congratulations are in order.” The Padre returned to his seat behind his desk, grabbing his diary.
“Oh, for Daniel you mean? No, sir, not yet. Tina and I are concentrating on getting this parenting thing right at the moment. We’ve not had time to think about christenings, although you do have a point, sir. It’s something we must get around to doing.”
“Excellent news, I’d love to have you all here and be a small part of young Daniel’s life. Just come along and book a date when you’re ready,” he indicated the diary, which he put back in the desk drawer.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll talk to Tina. But the real reason for my visit is a rather more delicate matter than a christening I’m afraid.”
“Well, you best sit down then.”
Crane looked around the Padre’s office, which was much neater than last time he was here. The wardrobe doors were open and Crane saw the clerical vestments neatly lined up on hangers, together with the Padre’s army uniform. The bookcase, whilst still crammed, appeared to be set out in category order. Behind the Padre’s green baize covered desk, hung a cross and on the opposite wall, a picture of the Queen. Crane grabbed a chair, sat at the old fashioned desk and leaned in to tell the Padre all about his current case and the attack on Kim.
“My goodness me, how appalling, poor Kim,” the young Padre said, after hearing the bones of the case. His face screwed up in consternation, “But I don’t see how I can help your investigation.”
“No, sir, I don’t need help with the investigation this time. I was wondering if you could go and see Kim. She’s in a pretty bad way, especially after receiving these notes, which are purportedly from her attacker. She won�
��t see a counsellor and is terrified that there could be a mention of mental illness on her army record. But she has to talk to someone. I need her to see that she can climb out of this awful black hole she’s in. Try and get her to use her army training, her pride in her military achievements, to understand how strong she is. So maybe if you let her know that you are willing to have a few off the record chats, it may work. She’s having flashbacks and her symptoms are very similar to post traumatic stress disorder. I’m sure you’ve talked to some of the lads who suffered from it on their return from Afghanistan.”
“I see. You’re right about my experience in this field, unfortunately, but you don’t think the fact I’m a man will frighten her? Maybe she would respond better to a woman.”
“Actually, no, sir, I don’t. I think she will be able to look beyond the man bit and see the man of God, if you get my meaning.”
“Very well, Crane, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Crane pushed a piece of paper across to the Padre, with Kim’s contact details on it. “Oh,” Crane remembered as he got up to leave, “for goodness sake don’t tell her I sent you will you? In fact, don’t tell anyone I sent you.”
“Alright, Crane, whatever you say.”
As Crane left the office, he glanced back and saw the Padre pulling counselling books off his shelf.
21
After his unofficial visit to the Padre, Crane returned to his car and drove to Aldershot Police Station, the monolithic structure of grey concrete that successive Town Councils had planned to knock down and completely rebuild. But those plans had never come to fruition, because of the economic recession, or lack of interest from retail sponsors. Aldershot was still suffering the backlash of the Parachute Regiment being relocated from Aldershot over ten years ago. A move the town had never really recovered from. No longer being the ‘home of the British Army’ had weakened the local economy drastically. And now with further cut-backs to the military being planned, who knew what would happen to Aldershot.
Of course Aldershot Garrison hosting a Team GB training camp for the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic athletes, had helped raise the profile of Aldershot. But that was a transient time, the population of Aldershot swelling for a month or so whilst the athletes were there and then shrinking back once again to normal low levels. A boost in employment at the camp helped, but the accompanying thefts didn’t say much for the good name of the local population. Crane grinned as he remembered a particular nasty pair of women he caught stealing jewellery from athletes staying in St Omer Barracks, or St Omer Village as the army like to call it now. He read in the local paper last week, with some satisfaction, that they’d been given prison sentences for their crimes.
After parking his car, Crane walked into the station and was waved through to DI Anderson’s office in CID.
“Ah, Crane, just in time for tea.”
Anderson was drinking from a cup and had a couple of sugary cakes on a plate.
“Want one?” he asked, pushing the plate towards Crane.
“No thanks, Derek, constant battle with my waistline.”
Crane patted his flat stomach and sat down in front of the desk.
“Don’t worry about that much myself,” Derek replied, patting his own stomach, which his shirt was straining to cover.
“But you’re not in the army, are you, Derek?”
“No, thank God.”
Anderson finished his cake and wiped the crumbs off his fingers with a handkerchief that he stuffed back into his trouser pocket. Placing his arms on his desk and leaning on them, he asked, “Right, where are we on the rape cases?”
Crane firstly relayed details of his interview with Yasin Whadi. “So, I reckon I could have a prime suspect with the Iraqi,” he finished.
“The Iraqi?”
“Sorry, didn’t I tell you? His parents are Iraqi.”
“No you didn’t and anyway it shouldn’t make any difference what his ethnic background is,” Anderson drained his cup of tea, smacking his lips appreciatively.
“Well, I suppose you could look at it like that. Anyway that’s not important. What is important is that he looks a good bet to me. Very cagey, not giving anything away. Looks and acts guilty.”
“And you’ve deduced all this from an initial interview have you, Crane?”
“Well, in case you’ve forgotten I do have some experience with Iraqis,” Crane leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I’ve served over there, trying to train their police force and of course there was that debacle while the Team GB athletes were here. Shifty lot, I’ve always found.”
“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I particularly asked to be in on any interviews you conduct in relation to this case. A police case, remember?”
“Oh dear, did you? Sorry, my mistake,” Crane tried to hide the smirk threatening to break on his face. “Anyway,” he continued, trying to distract Anderson from the interview with Whadi, “let’s talk about Kim. The thing that bothers me is how did this bloke know Kim was staying with her mum? If he only picked her at random on the night of the attack, he’d have no idea that her mother lived in the area.”
“You’ve got a point there, Crane. Maybe he’s been stalking her for a while before he plucked up the courage to talk to her. Her being in The Goose that particular Saturday seems to have been good luck for him and bad luck for Kim, as she’s not a regular there. Is Kim close to her parents?”
“It seems so. She visits them a couple of times a week, so if he was keeping an eye on her, he would have easily found out that her mum and dad live in the area.”
Anderson shivered, “Gives you the creeps doesn’t it? You know, the thought of someone keeping tabs on you without your knowledge.”
“Maybe some nosey neighbour in the street has noticed a young man hanging around? Someone who’s not from the area,” Crane fingered his scar. “Is there any chance of another quick knock around the neighbouring properties?”
“Alright, I’ll ask about descriptions, a dark-haired young man and a fair-haired one.”
“Best keep this quiet from Kim, Derek. No point in freaking her out yet again.”
They then turned to the plan of action for Saturday night. Anderson was happy about the increased RMP on the roads of Aldershot, as Crane expected he would be. Let’s face it, Crane reasoned, at the moment Anderson needed all the help he could get.
They were just agreeing that Billy was to do a stint on the door at The Goose, when a young DC put his head round the door. “Sorry to bother you, Guv, Diane Chambers from the Aldershot Mail is making a right nuisance of herself downstairs,” he said. “She insists on speaking to the DI in charge of the rape cases.”
“Oh, very well, put her in an interview room and I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Turning to Crane he asked, “Do you want to come too?”
“Not bloody likely,” Crane replied. “I’ll just sit here for a few minutes until she’s safely out of the way, then I’ll leave.”
“Coward,” laughed Anderson as he left his office.
While Crane was waiting, he pulled out his mobile and called Billy.
“Have you an update for me on the interviews with those friends of Yasin?”
“Yes, boss, I was just going to call you. One of the lads said he saw Yasin talking to a young white girl in The Goose. Getting very pally they were too.”
22
The night was drawing in as Crane pulled up outside his quarter, reminding him it would soon be November. The wind whipped at his coat as he climbed out of the car and then reached back in for his briefcase. If he got a chance, he wanted to go over the statements Billy had taken from Yasin Whadi’s friends about their night out at The Goose last Saturday. Of course, that all depended on what he found behind the front door tonight. Sometimes Tina was organised, happy and relaxed and at other times she was dishevelled, the chores undone and Daniel very fretful. If it was a bad night he wouldn’t be able to get any work done, he�
�d have to concentrate on helping Tina.
Crane opened the front door, entering cautiously, not wanting to bang in and shout hello for fear of waking the baby when Tina had only just got him settled. He no sooner put his briefcase on the floor when he heard a wail coming from the kitchen. Shit, a bad night, then, he decided.
Walking into the kitchen, he saw Daniel sat in his bouncer, red faced, fists clenched and back arched. The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it, as did Tina. Her hair, once scraped back, was now falling in tendrils around her face, her blouse was covered in milk splashes and she was as red in the face as Daniel.
“Oh, Tom, thank goodness,” tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t get him to take the colic drops.”
“Alright, love, I’ll get him.”
Crane gave Tina a quick kiss before scooping the child from his carrier.
“Here, quick!”
Tina passed him a piece of muslin but it was too late. Daniel had thrown up all down the back of his suit jacket. Turning, Crane was relieved to see his wife laugh at the sight of him with a screaming baby over his shoulder and vomited milk all down his jacket and joined in the laughter.
“I’ll take him upstairs and clean the both of us up. Why don’t you sort yourself and the kitchen out and then phone for a take-away?”
“Only if I can choose,” she replied.
“Choose away,” he called as he went up the stairs.
The baby was calmer after burping up some of the trapped wind in his stomach and Crane managed to get him to take the colic drops and then cleaned them both up. He spent some time walking around the house with Daniel on his shoulder; rubbing his back and holding him close to help alleviate the pain of the colic. As he wandered, Tina sorted herself out and phoned for a Chinese take-away.
With the baby asleep at last, they dished up their meal.
“Sorry,” Tina said as she wrapped some Peking duck into a pancake, “for not having everything ready when you got home. I’m not very good at this mothering bit am I?”
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 1 (Sgt Major Crane Crime Thrillers Box Set) Page 50
