From behind him, Barry heard a gurgle and turned to see Mike with a fire poker raised high above his head. As the poker came down, Barry raised his left arm to protect his head and his radius bone snapped. In a blind fury, he wrenched the poker from Mike’s hands, sending him off balance and spinning to his left. Once again, the red mist took over and before Barry knew what he was doing, he’d hit Mike as hard as he could on the back of the head. Mike landed face down, blood pouring from the split in his skull and merging with the red and brown swirly patterns on Norma’s fake Persian rug.
*
Ridley’s mobile buzzed in his trouser pocket as he stood opposite Superintendent Raeburn, hands clenched behind his back. There was a perfectly good chair right in front of him, but Raeburn, along with every other officer who worked with Ridley, was used to him doing everything standing – even sucking up, which is what he was doing now. He’d been attentive all morning, stopping just short of obsequious, because Raeburn was getting a second answer from the coroner today, after Ridley had persuaded her to push harder.
‘It’s got to be low-key, Simon,’ Raeburn revealed eventually.
Ridley hid his glee behind a well-controlled, ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
*
Across in Aylesbury, Prescott squinted at the grainy CCTV image of the pest control van leaving the grounds of Rose Cottage. The driver looked alarmingly like an old-school Photofit. It gave them nothing and he knew it. His phone rang out on speaker and he prayed that Ridley wouldn’t answer.
*
At sunrise the next day, a small ring of low-level LED lighting outlined the first grave belonging to Harry Rawlins, providing enough extra light for the JCB mini-excavator to do its job. The turf had been dug up by hand and was stacked in squares ready to be relaid later. Ridley and Raeburn watched by the graveside, while several plain-clothes PCs made sure that dog walkers and druggie teens didn’t stray on to church grounds.
‘The diamonds had better bloody well be in there, Simon,’ Raeburn whispered as she stamped from foot to foot, to keep her toes from freezing.
Ridley appeared to be far less concerned with property than people.
‘It’s also time we knew who he was, ma’am. He must have family. People who miss him.’
Raeburn snorted. She was in no mood for sentimentality. Her predecessors had worked hard to keep this fiasco out of the press all those years ago, and she didn’t want to be the one now standing in front of the press explaining how they’d buried the same man twice. She needed something to distract the public. Solving a 35-year-old diamond heist and recovering the jewels would do nicely.
*
Angela had taken a break from sewing cash bundles into the coach seats and had brought Connie along on her weekly visit to the graveside of Dolly Rawlins. She didn’t usually visit so early, but Connie needed to get out of the flat – she was missing the crisp fresh air of Taunton. Being blocked by plain-clothes police officers was the last thing they expected; if Connie had been sober, she’d have panicked. The police politely apologised for the inconvenience, before sending Angela and Connie on their way.
As they left, Connie’s eyes focused on a small group of officers tucked in against the wall of the church, sheltering against the cold.
‘He’s here!’ she gasped. ‘Jack Warr’s here. This is to do with us, Angela. They’re digging up Dolly!’
‘Why on earth would they be digging up Dolly?’ Angela dragged Connie away before she could be overheard. ‘Calm down, this doesn’t have anything to do with us. I can see Dolly’s grave from here and they’re nowhere near it. They’re round the front somewhere.’
As they walked away, Angela looked back at the faint glow of portable LED lighting coming from the main churchyard. Whoever the police were digging up, they were important enough to have one of the big graves out front.
*
It took another hour to dig down as far as the coffin and hoist it out onto the grass. The brass plate on the lid read ‘Harold Rawlins’, another reminder for Raeburn of the mistake they’d made all those years ago. The coffin was put into the back of an undertaker’s van, and Ridley, with Raeburn in his passenger seat, followed.
Foxy was in early so that he could open the coffin as soon as it arrived. This was the ‘bag of bones’ Jack had spoken to him about. When he popped the lid, all that was inside the coffin was an incomplete skeleton. It was easy to see every inch of the coffin without having to move the body itself. There was nothing else. No diamonds. No bag or box that could possibly contain diamonds.
Raeburn walked away.
‘What was she expecting?’ Foxy asked.
Ridley headed for the door. ‘A promotion.’
CHAPTER 22
Audrey Withey was furious about being brought into the station at 7.30 in the morning. She’d not even had time to dry her hair so, as she sat in Interview Room 1 dunking biscuits into her coffee, she complained about uncontrollable frizz.
‘I’m not having my picture taken!’ she shouted. ‘I flatly refuse!’
The female PC standing just inside the door was used to disgruntled visitors and was, therefore, perfectly able to block out the noise of Audrey’s voice.
Anik’s early morning knock on Audrey’s front door had been designed to catch her off guard. It was an uncomfortable start to the day if you had something to hide. Audrey, with a lifetime’s experience of being around criminals, was suitably wary. Her aggressive attitude and posturing came from uncertainty ‒ perhaps even fear.
On the other hand, Susan Withey, who sat in Interview Room 2, was a naturally early riser. So, when Laura knocked on her door at 7.30, she’d already been up for a couple of hours. She was calm as she sipped her tea. She had no experience of police interview rooms and, therefore, no ingrained fears; she simply assumed that they wanted a chat about Mike.
Ridley and Anik joined Susan and offered her more tea, which she accepted and then sat down. Anik tucked his legs neatly under the table, but Ridley sat further back, giving himself the legroom to put his left ankle onto his right knee. He was relaxed, so Susan was relaxed.
‘We need your help, please, Mrs Withey,’ Ridley began politely. ‘We now have evidence that suggests Mike was involved in the Aylesbury train robbery back in ’95. This isn’t what either of us expected or wanted to find out, right?’
Anik hid his smile. In one sentence, Ridley had put himself firmly on the same side as Susan and they were now allies.
‘Obviously, with Mike being a police officer, we want to be certain that the evidence isn’t misleading us. I can’t divulge the details, but if you could provide us with Mike’s whereabouts on several specific dates, that would be incredibly helpful.’
Anik opened his notebook in preparation for the next phase of the interview.
‘DC Joshi has a list of the dates in question. He’ll also be asking you about the money Mike received from the sale of the Spanish villa and the money he used to buy the house you currently occupy. I’m sorry that these are intrusive questions. They’re unavoidable at this stage.’
Ridley doubted Susan knew anything about her husband’s criminal activities. If she was a victim, she needed to be treated with the respect and empathy that deserved.
When Susan spoke, it was with absolute honesty.
‘My husband, DCI Ridley, was a drunk, a gambler, a womaniser and . . . and he could be a violent man. He was weak in that sense. But he loved the law. He felt terribly let down by it – his sister was murdered, his brother’s locked away in a system that clearly doesn’t work – but he respected it.’ Unconsciously, she straightened her back, raised her chin and all the love she had ever felt for Mike could be seen in her watering eyes. ‘I’ll help you. And I think we’ll discover that Mike had nothing to do with your train robbery.’
Ridley stood and smiled.
‘I hope you’re right, Mrs Withey,’ he said as he left the room.
*
Susan’s former mother-in-law, on the oth
er hand, was a less than co-operative witness. Audrey sat back in her chair, arms folded, lips pursed, eyebrows down, totally closed off. She was on autopilot and, as soon as Jack opened his mouth to ask her if she needed anything, she’d instinctively said, – ‘No comment.’
‘You do know you’re not under arrest, Mrs Withey? You’re helping us to find out who killed your son, and we’re very grateful for that. Very grateful. I didn’t know Mike, but I’ve heard great things. I want justice for him, as I’m sure you do . . . Do you mind if we record our chat so we’re not distracted by note-taking?’
Laura was in awe. Audrey should have been putty in his hands, after that little opening speech.
But Laura was wrong.
‘You’re as shit as the rest of them,’ Audrey said, and got up and walked out.
*
On the front steps of the police station, Audrey sucked in half of her cigarette in one go, before coughing out a long plume of smoke. Behind her, Susan stepped out of the main doors. As she spotted the back of Audrey’s damp, frizzy head, her jaw muscles flickered and her eyes narrowed.
‘I’m sorry we lost Mike.’
Audrey spun round. Susan’s expression was nowhere near as sympathetic as her words.
‘He was on a slippery slope, Audrey, and while I was trying to hold on to him, you were giving him a big old shove.’
Audrey’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
‘He needed to look to the future and you . . . You couldn’t stop dragging him back into the past, could you?’ Susan continued calmly. ‘You were so obsessed with Shirley, so focused on destroying Dolly Rawlins, that in your warped search for justice, you destroyed Mike as well. You did “something”, Audrey, I know you did. You did “something” and, from that moment, Mike had no chance. Losing his job, the drinking, the gambling, the aggression towards me . . . Oh yes, your boy put me in hospital more than once.’
Audrey opened her mouth.
‘Be quiet!’ Susan snarled as she stepped closer to Audrey. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. My husband would be alive if his mother wasn’t such an almighty fuck-up. If he robbed that train to right a wrong that you started, I swear to God, I’ll see you banged up. Fuck the no-grassing code of honour, I will shout it from the rooftops!’
Tears rolled down through Audrey’s deeply wrinkled cheeks. Susan didn’t let up.
‘Mike’s dead because of you. They’re all dead because of you. You’re poison. So don’t imagine for one second that I’ll allow you to do the same to your grandchildren, because I won’t. You’ve seen the last of them.’
As Susan walked off, Audrey remained frozen to the spot. The pain welled up inside her and flooded out in a stream of long-overdue tears – but even now, Audrey was crying for herself. The world was cruel, God had forsaken her, everyone was set against her; nothing was her fault.
Watching from behind the bike rack at the corner of the police station, Jack almost felt sorry for Audrey. He’d come across many people like her. She was one of life’s victims; it was all she knew. If she was ever honest enough to take responsibility for her own behaviour, she would probably die from the shame.
*
Connie snored like a bulldozer on Angela’s sofa. Aggie and Riel giggled from the lounge door, pushing their palms tight over their ears in exaggerated pain. Angela sneaked past them and placed a fry-up on the coffee table, together with a cup of tea. The fabulous smell took about three seconds to wake Connie, who sat bolt upright, almost falling out of her pyjama top as the buttons strained under the pressure of her breasts. Riel gawped at Connie’s cleavage for the length of time it took for Angela to usher them both out of the lounge.
‘Teeth. Go!’
Angela stood by the window, looking out over her modest domain, and sipped her cup of tea.
‘Don’t you wake up starving after a night on the booze?’ Connie asked through a mouthful of bacon and fried egg.
‘I ate with the kids about an hour ago,’ Angela said. ‘They love having you for a sleepover because they get sausage sandwiches for breakfast.’
‘They’ll love me even more when they’re eating banger butties on a sunbed by a pool in 80 degree heat! We’re nearly there, aren’t we, Ange? We’re honest-to-God nearly there!’
Angela couldn’t control the grin that crept across her face.
*
Jack was beginning to worry about Audrey. She hadn’t moved in at least ten minutes. Just as he decided to go and see if she was OK, she finally snapped out of it and lit herself another cigarette. Now Jack had stepped out of his hiding spot, he had no option but to continue towards her.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Withey?’ he asked.
For a good few seconds, she said nothing. She just smoked. When she was ready, she clipped her cigarette and put the unsmoked half back into the packet.
‘I got summat to say.’
Jack took Audrey into the Soft Interview Room. Decorated like a sparse living room complete with sofas, lamps, coffee tables and children’s toys, on the back wall was a large, plain mirror. This room was normally reserved for abuse victims and children who were giving evidence, but Jack wanted Audrey to feel like this interview was completely different from the earlier one ‒ she could be the key to their investigation. He sat her down and then left under the pretence of making hot drinks for them both. Once outside, he asked a passing PC to put the kettle on and get Laura to come down from the squad room. He went into the observation room where, through the two-way mirror, he could see Audrey sitting on the sofa, wringing her hands, glancing around and looking generally very nervous.
When Laura came in with one tea and one coffee, Jack got her up to speed.
‘Audrey never left. Something’s on her mind. Can you stay here and watch?’
Moments later, he appeared in the Soft Interview Room and sat on the sofa opposite Audrey. He put the drinks down on a coffee table, and gave her time to compose herself before beginning.
*
In Raeburn’s office, Ridley was listening politely to her rant.
‘It’s a can of worms!’ she said furiously. ‘And it’s impossible to shut it down now. We’ll have to identify a pile of bones no one has even been looking for, and we’ll have to fend off the ensuing court case that’s inevitably going to come once the relatives are finally notified.’
Ridley could only agree. There was little point in doing anything else.
*
Audrey wasn’t here to do the right thing. She was broken. She was a woman with absolutely nothing to live for, so she was here for redemption before she finally curled up into a ball to die. Susan’s words rang in her ears as she sipped her coffee: Mike’s dead because of you. They’re all dead because of you.
‘It started with the diamonds.’ Audrey looked down into her mug as she spoke.
Up in the observation room, Laura breathed out an excited ‘Ooohhh!’ Down in the interview room, Jack remained a picture of calm professionalism.
‘I was pregnant. I was allowed to enjoy that for a whole six weeks before being told that my Shirl was dead and me old man was banged up for his part in the diamond robbery. Then I was just numb. Greg was a worry – he was already off his head from all the drugs, so I couldn’t tell how he was feeling. He went out to score and, within minutes, the doorbell rang. It was her ‒ Dolly Rawlins. First thing she said was how sorry she was to hear about Shirl ‒ then she asked for a favour ’cos she had no one else to turn to. All in the one breath, that was.’
Without taking his eyes off Audrey, Jack took out his notebook and jotted down all the questions he needed to ask. He barely knew where to begin.
‘She had the diamonds with her. She actually brought those fucking diamonds into my house. She said that if I did what she wanted, I’d be taken care of for the rest of my life. She said . . .’ Audrey paused as if recalling exactly what Dolly had instructed. ‘She said I was to take the diamonds to Jimmy Donaldson, who was alre
ady lined up to take them off her.’
Jack wrote down Jimmy’s name.
‘Go on,’ he encouraged her.
‘Jimmy was a trusted small-time crim who could fence anything,’ said Audrey. ‘Well – I was in shock! I’m grieving and she’s waving death diamonds in my face and promising me more cash than I can spend. Like I’m gonna be bought that easy when my girl’s not even been delivered to the mortuary yet?’
She sounded outraged, but her next words almost made Jack smile.
‘Anyway, I took the diamonds and met Jimmy in his workshop out the back of his house. He bricked them diamonds up in his workshop wall and we went our separate ways.’ Audrey became more animated. ‘The next thing – it was in all the papers – she’d only gone and shot her fucking husband! I reckon she knew she was gonna shoot him, which is why she gave me the diamonds – to hide for her coming out.’ Now Audrey was visibly shaking. ‘Can I have another coffee? And some of them biscuits I had earlier?’
Jack headed out to the corridor, where Laura was waiting. They clutched each other in excitement like a couple of kids who’d just stumbled across a hoard of buried treasure.
‘Kettle’s on,’ Laura said before Jack could even ask. ‘Why’s she spilling her guts all of a sudden?’
‘She met Susan outside the station,’ Jack explained. ‘I wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, but she looked pretty shocked.’
‘Better get back in there while the mood’s on her,’ said Laura.
Restocked with coffee and biscuits, Audrey was ready to start talking again.
‘With Dolly in prison, I was never gonna be taken care of for the rest of me life, was I? I was never gonna be paid for helping her. Never gonna get what I was owed.’ Audrey’s face fell. ‘I was working all hours on the market, drinking too much and I had a miscarriage . . . And then one day I heard Jimmy had been arrested. I thought, Jesus Christ, he’s been done for the diamonds and they’ll be coming for me! Turns out he was nicked for kiting cheques, so that was OK. But now I was thinking about the diamonds and how no one but me knew they was even there.’
Buried - DC Jack Warr Series 01 (2020) Page 21
