by Tony Bassett
At an ungodly hour - it felt like five o’clock, but it might have been seven - the custody sergeant woke me. He came with a barely-passable breakfast of partly-burned sausages, cold beans and congealed egg, which I was able to wash down with a cup of coffee. I believe it was coffee. It may have been tea.
Then I spent some time pacing around the cell in my sloppy, unfastened shoes - the custody sergeant had removed my laces as well as my tie - wondering what would happen to us.
However, unknown to me, legal wheels had been set in motion. Janice Carslake had been notified of our arrests. As soon as she had realised the circumstances, she had contacted Sergeant Kirwan in CID. They were both, in their individual ways, battling to secure our release.
Just before ten am, I heard a knock on the hatch in my cell door. I looked up to see the smiling face of the custody sergeant.
‘Mr Shaw,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a visitor.’
‘Oh, if I’d known someone was coming, I’d have tidied up, put out the rubbish and vacuumed the carpet!’ I said, trying to make light of my situation.
The rattle of bangles and a chunky necklace in the corridor outside heralded the arrival of Mrs Carslake, who was smartly dressed in a grey jacket, matching skirt and an orange blouse.
‘Good morning, Mr Shaw,’ she said, depositing a heavy, grey handbag upon the white, tiled floor. ‘I’m so sorry to find you in this predicament. I‘ve had a word with your wife...’
‘How is she? Is she all right?’ I asked anxiously.
‘She’s fine - bearing up, you might say. Obviously, full of regret she’s put you through all this. I don’t think you’ll be kept here long. I’ve explained the situation to Sergeant Kirwan, whom I understand you know.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘The arresting officer was treating the matter of last night’s suspected illegal entry of a house in Summoners Close as a criminal offence. He was considering burglary charges. However, I think I’ve persuaded them no major harm’s been done. In fact, your wife appears to have secured some valuable evidence that may well help us get your friend Yusuf released.’
‘We really hope so,’ I said.
‘Sergeant Kirwan is not here yet. But when he arrives, you and your wife will be summoned. We’ll have a chat with the arresting officer. Hopefully, we can get this quickly resolved and get you both released.’
Mrs Carslake’s words had a soothing effect. I had been concerned about the possibility of being charged with burglary or assisting in a burglary.
I had imagined in a dream during the night I was facing an interview in the headmaster’s study. He was saying: ‘Shaw, you’ve been charged with aiding and abetting a burglary.’ I heard myself confessing: ‘Yes sir.’ Then the headmaster again: ‘What’re you alleged to have taken in this burglary?’ I heard myself replying: ‘A shoe and a pair of gloves.’ Then I imagine a cackle of laughter as pupils outside heard the words and they spread like wildfire around the playground.
Mrs Carslake’s voice brought me back to reality with a jolt.
‘Mr Shaw,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if a night in a police cell’s been a shock for you, but don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll remain here for long. I’ll just go and have a chat with the officer now.’
‘Thank you very much for all you’ve done,’ I said. ‘For both of us.’
Mrs Carslake was clearly a force to be reckoned with. In the coming hour, Anne and I were brought upstairs from our basement cells and reunited in an interview room on the first floor. I hugged Anne and kissed her on the cheek, reassuring her that I had suffered few ill-effects after my night as a guest of the Chief Constable.
Anne had spent the night in a similar condition to me, trying to sleep on an uncomfortable mattress. The constable who had arrested us informed us on the first floor landing there would be no further action, but warned us to be sure to keep within the law in future. We assured him we would. We were happy to accept his caution.
Then, at about ten am, Mrs Carslake led us into an interview room where Sergeant Kirwan was sitting behind a small table, staring out of a window at the car park below.
‘Ah, Mr and Mrs Shaw!’ he said. ‘When I heard you’d been arrested, I thought: “Graham, what’s happening to the world?” A more unlikely pair of burglars I’d find it hard to imagine now.’
We sat on two chairs facing the sergeant. Mrs Carslake took a seat next to him.
‘Anyway, that’s all finished with,’ the sergeant went on. ‘I have to say I was very impressed with the results of what you’ve found, Mrs Shaw. It turns the whole investigation on its head. Is it right, inside 41 Summoners Close, you found a balaclava, a shoe with glass embedded in the rubber sole, some black leather gloves and some Army letters?’
‘That’s right,’ said Anne. ‘Most of the items were among a pile of clothing, shoes and caving equipment by the front door.’
‘I’ve heard brief details, but could you tell me again -- why did you visit Mr Bennett’s house?’
‘I’ve been playing detective because we know Yusuf Osman is innocent and we thought the police were on the wrong track. The most obvious suspect was Neil Bennett because his wife was having an affair with Lucas Sharp. I initially ruled him out as he appeared to have a reliable alibi. We were told he’d been at a pub quiz in front of dozens of people. But, a few days ago, I realised he couldn’t have been at the quiz after all.’
‘How’s that now?’
‘Because they’d a question about caving. His team gave the wrong answer. If he’d been there, they’d have got the answer right.’
Sergeant Kirwan still failed to grasp the full implication of what Anne was saying. I decided to try and help.
‘Look, there are two Bennett brothers,’ I said. ‘They’re identical twins. One of them, Neil, is one of Britain’s most experienced potholers and cavers. The other twin, Luke, knows little about the subject.’
‘Oh, I think I see what you mean now. So Luke the twin turns up to the quiz. Everyone thinks he’s their normal team member. Neil’s able to be at Lilac Cottage or somewhere and no one’s any the wiser.’
‘Precisely!’ I said.
Then Anne took all three of us by surprise.
‘I’m not entirely sure what role Neil Bennett had in the murder,’ she stated.
‘What d’you mean, Mrs Shaw?’ asked the sergeant. ‘I thought all your efforts pointed to him having the motive, the opportunity and the knowledge.’
‘Oh, I’m certain he had some role in that terrible event,’ she said. ‘But I believe it may’ve been only a minor part. I believe he had an accomplice who played a much greater role. Most of the footwear I found in Summoners Close were size ten fell-boots and shoes. But the shoe that had the glass in the sole was a larger shoe - a size twelve. I’m convinced glass got into the sole when its owner walked around the kitchen at Lilac Cottage. I understand, of course, it could just be coincidence. The shoe could’ve trampled on broken glass somewhere else.’
‘What you’re saying may or may not be true, but it’s an interesting theory and our forensic people may well be able to tell whether the glass fragments come from the cottage,’ said the sergeant. ‘So, to sum up, you believe the killer has size twelve feet? And all we have got to do is find Cinderella?’
‘In a manner of speaking, yes,’ said Anne. ‘The fell-boots, I imagine, were used by Neil Bennett when he went caving. So his feet are too small. As Neil and his brother are identical twins, we can assume their feet are a similar size.’
‘They probably both take size tens. Yes, I can see where you’re coming from,’ the sergeant admitted. ‘Sounds like we may well be looking for a big guy with size twelve feet who’s got some kind of association with the Bennetts. Anyway, you’ve mentioned this key evidence. What I need to know is: where is it? When you were searched and rather
unceremoniously thrown into the cells of Canterbury nick last night, you only had a handful of typed letters with you.’
‘I locked the other things in the boot of our car,’ I explained.
‘So they’re all in a place of safe-keeping?’
Anne nodded. ‘Yes, provided our car is still where we left it. You see, I was concerned, if we were caught with these items, the brothers might’ve disposed of them or the police might’ve filed them away. That evidence is vital, as far as I’m concerned. We need it desperately to clear Yusuf’s name.’
‘Well, you’re very resourceful, I have to say,’ said the sergeant. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs Carslake?’
‘Yes, I certainly would,’ the lawyer said. ‘Where’s the car exactly?’
I explained how we had left the Mondeo in the next street to Summoners Close in St Stephens.
‘Well, I think the next stage is for me to drive you back to your car,’ said the sergeant. ‘I need to take your evidence away and get our forensics team to give it the once over. I will also have to take statements from you both at some stage. I have to say you’ve done a brilliant job, Mrs Shaw. My inspector thought the case against Yusuf Osman was cut and dried, but since you became involved, everything’s changed. When I mentioned to him what you’d done, he called you a “plucky lass.” That from him is quite a compliment. But one thing we’ve been wondering about is how anyone can tell the twins apart?’
‘Luke’s got a small mole behind his right ear,’ said Anne.
‘Well, let’s hope he doesn’t go to hospital and have it surgically removed,’ said the sergeant.
‘I’ve also been doing some library research on the Bennett family. Six years ago, Neil Bennett was in a bad road accident. He was in hospital for three months and had to have a metal plate inserted in his leg. So one sure-fire way of telling which twin is which is to use one of those portable metal detectors. So your inspector might want you to take a metal detector with you when you visit him - to make sure you have the right man!’
‘That’s one of the craziest things I’ve ever heard,’ said the sergeant. ‘Anyway, we’re not totally convinced by your suggestion that a second man was involved. The inspector appears to think Bennett acted alone. He thinks it’s more likely the killer drove to the area himself, hid the vehicle, took the bike out of the boot and cycled for the remaining part of the journey. He can’t think why the killer would involve another person. He says there’s enough suspicion for us to pull Neil Bennett in and question him. You’ll be pleased to know he also wants me to set the wheels in motion to get the charge against Mr Osman dropped.’
36
It was a cold, misty morning when we left the police station. Sergeant Kirwan drove us back to our car and we handed him the two carrier bags from the boot.
Then we set off on the four-mile journey home in the Mondeo. I had not expected temperatures to plunge so low - our barometer at home was struggling to reach four degrees Celsius. But Anne did not seem bothered by the cold. She was elated following her discoveries the previous evening.
After parking in the driveway shortly after eleven am, my first concern was to attend to the cat. Fiesta had entered the house through our new cat-flap and was parading round the kitchen with his tail twitching in anticipation of being fed.
‘Shouldn’t you contact the school?’ Anne asked as I spooned cat-food into Fiesta’s bowl.
‘I’ve just phoned them and apologised for being held up this morning,’ I said. ‘They got another teacher to stand in, but I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you later.’
While I began holding a series of History classes, Anne devoted the rest of the day to further research on the murder. She visited the library, returned to Summoners Close to make inquiries with the Bennetts’ neighbours and spoke to a retired Army colonel whose name and details she had obtained from Prunella Ball.
She was delighted when, two days later, we received an early evening phone call from Sergeant Kirwan because, by then, she was convinced she knew the identity of the main perpetrator and wanted to pass her findings to the police.
Turning on the phone’s loud speaker so I could overhear the conversation, Anne told him: ‘You know Neil Bennett didn’t kill Lucas Sharp, don’t you?’
‘How can you be so sure?’ he asked.
‘He doesn’t take size twelve shoes and, in any case, he’s not big enough,’ she said. ‘Someone else has been living at 41 Summoners Close apart from the twins -- a British soldier called Chad Draxfield. I have seen his identity tag. He is a muscular, heavily-tattooed man who’s six feet four inches tall. Neil Bennett may be into outdoor pursuits, but he’s shorter. He’d have had a struggle overpowering Lucas, but not this man.’
She revealed Draxfield was attached to a unit of the Royal Engineers. He had a record of distinguished service in Afghanistan. He had been granted Army leave for most of the month, but was due to return to his base at Catterick on November the twenty-seventh - just two days away.
‘Do you understand he has spent his entire leave with the Bennetts?’ said the sergeant.
‘Yes, it looks that way, according to neighbours,’ said Anne. ‘It seems he’s not married - well, if he is, he’s divorced or separated. He appears the most likely person to have killed Lucas.’
The powerful words hit home with me. I remembered our visit to the remote Lilac Cottage. I thought of its white-washed walls and thick, brown thatch standing in its tranquil rural setting. The thought that an act of such savagery could have taken place there still filled me with alarm. Could her words be true? Could a soldier on leave have snuffed out the life of poor Lucas Sharp? Anne was still talking.
‘The two men were drawn together through their love of extreme sports. Draxfield is an expert mountaineer and caver who has gone potholing all over Europe with Neil Bennett. The pair have gone white-water rafting in Africa and mountaineering in the Himalayas. On top of that, Draxfield is an expert in the use of explosives, according to his former commanding officer.’
‘That’s most useful, Mrs Shaw,’ said the sergeant. ‘I have made a note of all that. I have got a lot to tell you as well. Could I call round tomorrow evening to see you both?‘
‘Yes, that’ll be fine, won’t it, Bob?
‘Will seven o’clock be convenient?’
‘That should be ideal,’ said Anne.
‘By the way,’ said the sergeant. ‘Did you know Yusuf Osman is due in court next Monday? We won’t be offering any evidence and the case is expected to be struck out.’
‘That’s fantastic news!’ said Anne. ‘Right, we’ll see you tomorrow evening.’
Over the past three months, my attitude towards Sergeant Kirwan had gradually changed. On his first visit to our cottage, he had appeared quiet and reserved. He was suspicious of us and treated us coldly.
When he called round the following evening, three days after Neil Bennett’s arrest, the tall, overweight sergeant appeared more sociable. He was less guarded in what he said. It was as if we had been finally accepted into his circle of trusted acquaintances.
I suppose he had been impressed by the way Anne had found the weak link in Neil Bennett’s alibi and been so focussed on solving the mystery of Lilac Cottage.
‘I promised to keep you updated,’ he declared as I opened the front door. ‘I’m a man of my word.’
‘Would you like to come in? I can offer you tea, coffee -- or something stronger?’ I said.
‘Tea is fine now because I’m still on duty,’ he replied. ‘Oh, good evening, Mrs Shaw!’ he said after noticing Anne pottering about in the kitchen.
I led our visitor into the living-room, where he at once made himself comfortable on our leather settee.
‘You go into see him,’ I whispered to Anne in the kitchen. ‘I know it’s you he really wants to see. I’ll make the drinks.’
Five minutes later, we were sitting drinking tea with the sergeant as if we were old friends.
‘Well, I’ve a lot to tell you,’ he announced after we had exchanged pleasantries. ‘First you’ll be pleased to know Neil Bennett’s been arrested. Of course, he’s been flatly denying any connection with Lucas Sharp’s death and implying we’re a bunch of idiots.’
We were delighted to hear of the arrest. It was a sign all Anne’s efforts were about to be rewarded. I was proud of her. She had followed her gut instinct that indicated the police were following the wrong path. She had worked hard, refused to compromise, taken chances and it all appeared to have paid off.
Over the next half hour, the sergeant described how Bennett had been rigorously interviewed at the city police station. He had personally taken charge of a raid on the Bennetts’ house.
Most residents in quiet, tree-lined Summoners Close took no notice as Sergeant Kirwan’s light-blue Volkswagen Golf drew up outside the home, he told us.
His car was closely followed by two police cars containing two detective constables, a trainee detective and three uniformed constables. Four forensic officers inside two vans parked nearby moments later.
Here and there, he recalled curtains twitching as a few anxious householders strove to catch a glimpse of the unexpected visitors.
The sergeant had learnt Neil Bennett drove a battered, gold-coloured Toyota Land Cruiser. He was delighted to find one parked right outside the house.
It had crossed his mind he could have made his arrest at the Supremo Save supermarket where the suspect worked. But, after consulting with CID colleagues, he decided to wait until Bennett had returned home. He did not want to embarrass the man in front of his staff and customers. He needed him to be in a compliant, cooperative mood, if possible, in the hope of obtaining answers to some of the myriad of questions running through his mind.
Flanked by the two detective constables, the sergeant strode up the path to the front of the house and rang the bell. A man who opened the door confirmed at once he was Neil Bennett.
