by Ted Tayler
“Here we are, Blessing. Plenty of shots of the supermarket staff having a splendid night at the Indian restaurant. Dilys Morgan has identified which reveller Sally is on the first one. She appears in every single photo. We should find her from these.”
“I’ve added Sally’s maiden name to the search, guv,” said Blessing.
“Right, get everything set up for the morning, Blessing. I suggest the rest of you update your digital files in the forty minutes left today. I’ll make that call to Cardiff Central now.”
At five o’clock, Alex and Lydia made their way to the lift. They were excited and nervous in equal measure.
“See you on Monday,” called Neil. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, Neil,” said Lydia. “I’ll discover tonight whether I inherited my father’s sea legs.”
After they left, Neil puffed out his cheeks.
“Blimey, I don’t think I could spend the best part of eight hours on a ferry.”
“I was sick on the switchback ride at the fair,” said Blessing.
“Time to go,” said Luke. “Come on, Neil. Let’s help Blessing escape the car park without putting a dent in her newly refurbished Micra.”
“Cheeky,” said Gus as he tidied his desk.
“I parked between Neil and Luke first thing this morning, guv,” said Blessing. “Better for them to err on the side of caution.”
“I’ll see you at nine o’clock,” said Gus as the trio headed for the lift.
Alone in the office, Gus called Suzie at London Road, but there was no reply. She must have left for home already. Gus left her a message on the landline. He wanted everything he had collected updated before they started work in the morning. Another thirty minutes should do it, and the Lamb was open until late. There was plenty of time to catch up with Brett Penman.
Gus drove into the gateway of the bungalow at a few minutes after six.
Suzie met him in the hallway. She had changed into her gardening clothes.
“I got your message,” said Suzie. “You’ve had a busy day.”
“Several pieces of the jigsaw fell into place,” said Gus. “Dai Williams has people searching for the Corbett brothers that I mentioned. The twins battered Ivan Kendall to death in the station toilets, of that I have no doubt. Why the dogs were so important, I don’t yet understand. A chap called Gethin Jones thought they were a crossbreed.”
“Fighting dogs?” asked Suzie.
“I don’t profess to know much about the matter,” said Gus. “We won’t know the full story until we locate Lexie Kendall. I’d like to think we’d find both mother and daughter tomorrow morning. Now that we have better photos at our disposal.”
“Have a shower and get changed. Let’s spend an hour at the allotment and then drop by the Lamb. If Brett’s celebrating, we’ll eat there and have a drink with him. You must rein yourself in if you need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow. I’ll go riding as usual. Do you expect to work through, or will you get home at lunchtime?”
“No promises, Suzie,” said Gus. “You know how these things go. With luck, I can avoid another trip to Wales. Luke and Neil can do the necessary while I work with Blessing in the office. The lads can call me later if they’ve put the finishing touches to the case. I’ll tie the lot in a neat bow on Monday morning and drop it on the ACC’s desk when I get to London Road for our scheduled meeting.”
“Ever the optimist,” said Suzie, pushing Gus toward the bathroom.
Gus and Suzie arrived at the allotment at twenty to seven. There was no sign of Bert Penman. Clemency Bentham was cleaning her tools and would soon get ready to cycle home.
“Hello, you two,” she said. “You don’t have much time to work on the land this evening.”
Gus looked at the rain clouds gathering behind the church clock. He remembered the forecast from first thing this morning—curses, foiled again.
“It’s the thought that counts,” he said. “Have you heard any news from Brett today?”
“I’ve been visiting my sick parishioners,” said Clemency. “My sturdy bicycle and I have travelled miles today. I’m hoping to see the benefit on the scales when I get home.”
“Does that mean you won’t be in the Lamb tonight?” asked Suzie. “I thought you were keen to hear how Brett’s interview went.”
Clemency wiped a lock of hair from her brow.
“Irene’s got a bad back,” she said. “I don’t like entering the bar alone if I can avoid it.”
“That’s easily solved,” said Gus. “Drop by the bungalow when you’re ready, and we’ll provide an escort.”
Clemency blushed.
“Gosh, I don’t want Brett to think I’m desperate.”
“You can always chat to Bert,” said Suzie. “He’s bound to be there.”
“Take the plunge, Reverend,” said Gus. “Remember those boyfriends in Dorchester and up at Oxford. It might be five years since your last date, but it’s been a while for Brett too.”
“Was that the first spot of rain I felt?” said Clemency.
“Don’t change the subject,” said Suzie. “I’m afraid you’re right, though.”
“A light shower won’t stop me,” said Gus. “You two get off home. We’ll see you at around half-past eight, Reverend.”
Clemency was soon scooting off on her bicycle, with Suzie jogging behind her. Gus carried on checking his rhubarb. Another month and it should be at its best. He couldn’t wait to try out Bethan Lewis’s ideas next year. It was no good; the light shower was growing in volume. If he didn’t make a move soon, he’d get soaked dashing back to the bungalow. If the Gods smiled on them in the morning, he could return after lunch. With any luck, the storm would have passed.
Suzie was in the living room when he reached home. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom to dry his hair.
“Clemency was right,” said Suzie. “Never mind, you can ask me how my day went.”
“I always love hearing different aspects of police work,” said Gus. “The daily grind of murder cases can be so wearing.”
“I trust you're not being facetious, Gus Freeman,” said Suzie, “we received good news today. We will soon be able to apply to magistrates for Stalking Protection Orders to help safeguard victims. It would require the respondent to notify the police of their personal details within three days of receiving the order, and anyone breaching the requirements could find themselves in jail for five years.”
“Anything that provides victims with more protection from the outset is a positive thing,” said Gus.
“My role is to continue to raise awareness of stalking as a criminal offence,” said Suzie. “And to encourage victims to feel safe in reporting their concerns.”
“Police forces across the UK are recording significant increases in the offence. That increase in reporting results from officers raising awareness and the improvements in crime recording. Wiltshire is at the forefront of that initiative.”
“Victims must be at the heart of everything we do, Gus. I want to help the most vulnerable victims across our county through the criminal justice process.”
“How long will these protection orders stay in place after our officers applied for them?” asked Gus.
“At least two years,” said Suzie. “That’s a reasonable period. Stalking is a serious crime with a devastating effect on the lives of victims and those around them.”
“I know I can rely on you to do what you can to bring offenders to justice and safeguard victims, Suzie. It’s a subject you’re passionate about, I can tell. I think you could establish something that will make a significant difference to the victims. It’s one more step on the journey to you making Chief Constable.”
“Just when I thought you were serious,” said Suzie.
“Hang on,” said Gus. “I remember that speech you gave after the raid on the cannabis factory above the village. The camera loved you.”
“You’re too kind, but looks alone won’t win me a position like that. I’m not ‘wo
ke’ enough.”
“What do we need to do to get ready?” asked Gus.
“A change of clothes for both of us,” said Suzie, “and then you must try to do something with your hair. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”
“People pay a fortune to get this look,” said Gus.
He ducked as a cushion headed his way.
Suzie was still getting ready when Clemency rang the front doorbell.
“Do I look decent?” she asked.
“Laura Ashley would have been proud, Reverend,” said Gus. “An English rose if ever I saw one.”
“The rain has stopped, thank goodness. Oh, and the scales gave me a boost to my confidence. Another pound lost.”
Suzie emerged from the bedroom. Gus had never met anyone who could turn smart-casual into something that took your breath away like Suzie. He made a note to show her later how appreciative he was.
“There weren’t many cars in the car park when I raced home earlier,” he said.
“Not the silence of the Lamb joke again, Gus, please,” said Suzie.
Gus followed Suzie and Clemency outside and locked the door behind them.
Suzie had to agree that Gus was right for a change. It was a quiet Friday night in the Lamb.
“That’s Friday the thirteenth for you,” said Suzie.
“Not in front of the Reverend, Suzie,” said Gus.
“I can’t see Bert or Brett,” said Clemency.
“Let’s order anyway,” said Gus. “I don’t think the Reverend will settle for a Chinese takeaway after closing time.”
“It wouldn’t be the first,” said Clemency. “But now that I’ve got my weight moving in the right direction, I want to keep going. A small portion of something healthy from the menu will suffice.”
By half-past nine, they had eaten and were settling in for a good natter over their usual variety of drinks—an elderflower cordial for Clemency, and a large glass of Chardonnay for Suzie. Gus deferred to the sensible option of a bottle of lager, given his spot of overtime tomorrow.
Brett Penman came through from the car park at a quarter to ten. He collected a gin and tonic at the bar and came over.
“May I join you?” he said.
“We thought you might have been here when we arrived,” said Gus. “Is Bert not with you tonight?”
“We had a meal in Swindon earlier. I was driving, so I stuck to non-alcoholic lager. Grandad was in the mood for a party, so I let him drink as much as he wished. He was asleep in the chair when I came out.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” said Gus. “How did the interview go?”
“I think they’d made their minds up before I got there,” said Brett, looking glum.
“Oh, dear,” said Clemency.
“I start on the first of next month,” laughed Brett. “Shall I get four glasses of bubbly?”
Gus glanced at Clemency Bentham.
The look on her face was something to behold.
Saturday, 14th July 2018
“Waffles, or a fried breakfast?” asked Gus.
“You carry on,” said Suzie, “I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”
“What do you think happened after we left the pub last night?”
“We were a touch obvious,” said Suzie, “leaving the two of them alone in the bar.”
“I didn’t hear the Reverend collect her bicycle,” said Gus.
“I’m not surprised, considering, you know,” said Suzie.
“I was eager to show my appreciation.”
“You were certainly eager.”
Gus had a look outside the door.
“Her trusty steed has gone,” he called out.
“Her knight in shining armour didn’t carry her home then.”
“I’m having waffles,” said Gus, “can I prepare Madam’s muesli and yoghurt?”
Suzie strolled through from the bedroom.
“You won’t stop until I get out of bed, will you?”
“Can you see that sun peeping through the clouds? You’ll have fine weather for your ride, and this afternoon we can have a picnic to fortify us at the allotment. I’ll call you from the office to let you know whether our fun starts from early or late afternoon.”
“I hope you finish the case without mishap,” said Suzie. “I’ll call Clemency later at the rectory for a progress report.”
Gus left Suzie to her bowl of damp cardboard and cup of coffee. He showered and dressed. When he returned to the kitchen, Suzie was clearing the breakfast things.
“I’ll get going,” said Gus, “I can get a few things done before the others arrive.”
“Have an arresting day,” said Suzie.
“I’m hoping Dai Williams will do that part this weekend. Our job is to give him the ammunition to send Vaughn and Shaun Corbett away for a long stretch.”
A Saturday morning drive through Devizes and on to the Old Police Station wasn’t a regular occurrence. Thank goodness, Gus thought. There was less traffic, that was true, but you only needed a couple of weekend drivers, or the dreaded holidaymaker heading for the coast to slow progress to a crawl.
Forty-five minutes after leaving the bungalow, Gus entered the lift on the ground floor. Luke had arrived before him. Neil and Blessing should be less than ten minutes away.
“The search for Sally and Lexie is paramount this morning, guv, isn’t it?” said Luke.
“Yes, Luke. Blessing’s our expert today, in Lydia’s absence. That change of surname might prove to be key. We’ve stuck with Kendall throughout the investigation to date. If Sally wanted to stay hidden from the Corbett twins, then a change of name helps.”
“A change of look too, guv?” asked Luke.
Gus heard the lift descend to the ground floor.
“I spotted that, Luke,” said Gus. “Sally opted for highlights at Christmas 2013. A distinct change from the mousy colour hair she had in their wedding photo. Might she go darker to hide the increasing number of grey hairs? Or make a total switch to blonde?”
“Morning all,” said Neil. He had Blessing Umeh with him.
“I’m parked on the end of the row, guv,” said Blessing. “Neil told me to leave a space between you and me.”
“Very wise,” said Gus. “Right, are we ready to start?”
“Neil and I discussed things in the lift, guv,” said Blessing. “I’ll concentrate on Sally Kendall or Prosser. Neil will look for Lexie. As soon as I home in on a likely location for Sally, I’ll advise him. Can Luke help me, guv?”
“Sure, whatever works best, Blessing,” said Gus. “I’m going to read through each of the team’s updates from yesterday to see if we missed anything. You will be busier than me, so just this once, I’ll tackle the Gaggia at ten. We’ll review what we’ve discovered over coffee and alter our parameters if necessary.”
“Got it, guv,”
“At ten to ten, Gus looked up from his computer screen. He was bang up to date. Hr couldn’t fault what they’d done so far. There were no significant flaws in the strategy they’d adopted.
Gus sensed Blessing and Luke were checking their facts before committing themselves.
“Do you have something?” he asked.
“Why don’t you and Neil come and see guv?” asked Luke.
The mature woman with short, dark hair smiling at the camera was Sally Kendall.
Now called Sammy Prosser, she was a Sales Negotiator for an estate agent in Crickhowell, in the Brecon Beacons.
“How far is that from Pontyclun?” asked Gus.
“An hour’s drive, guv,” said Blessing.
“Did you get that, Neil?” asked Luke.
“Crick something,” said Neil. “That could help things along. I’ve got the enhanced school photo of Lexie as she could look aged twenty. I’ve searched and searched online, but she’s not in the obvious social media places.”
“Did you check for Lexie Prosser and Kendall?” asked Blessing.
“I tried every combination
of first name and surname,” said Neil.
“What if she’s married?” asked Luke.
“I can’t find a marriage registered anywhere in South Wales,” said Blessing.
“Right, Neil,” said Gus. “Call the estate agents where her mother works. Someone might be in the office this morning. Get a contact number, and then you and Luke can drive to Wales to interview her. Surely, she will know where her daughter’s got to. Any questions?”
“No, guv,” said Luke. “We know what to ask.”
“Blessing and I will continue to search for Lexie. I’ll call you if we find further information while you’re en route. Who’s driving?”
“Me, guv,” said Luke. “We should reach Crickhowell at around eleven o’clock. Neil can keep his phone handy.”
“Good,” said Gus. “I don’t expect to be here this afternoon. So, whatever you learn, you need to call me on my mobile.”
“Ms Powell isn’t in the office today, Guv,” said Neil ten minutes later, “but her manager provided a home number. Sally lives on Oakfield Drive. I think my call came as a shock, guv. She wasn’t keen to speak to us, but I insisted. I told her a quiet chat over a cup of coffee was preferable to going to the police station for a formal interview.”
“You nicked a line from my playbook, Neil. You’re learning,” said Gus. “Off you go then you two, and good hunting.”
After Neil and Luke left the office, Blessing took over the search for Alexa or Lexie.
“Why wouldn’t she be on the usual social media sites?” she asked.
“Remember what Luke said after we returned from talking to Ieuan Arlett,” said Gus. “Luke wondered whether we might need to look for a Sexy Lexie online. Alexa left school with fewer qualifications than she hoped. That scuppered her dreams of a college education. Gethin Hughes told us his ex-girlfriend never found a job before leaving the village. Maybe, we need to delve into the murkier parts of the internet to find Lexie.”
“If Lexie’s a working girl,” said Blessing, “this Hub version of the school photo won’t be much use. Even if some men get turned on by the school uniform.”
Gus thought of Gethin Hughes.
“What happens if you crop the photo to produce just a headshot?” asked Gus.
