Deadly Encounter

by M A Comley

  “I was born ready,” he replied in a dumb American accent.

  “Don’t give up the day job, for goodness’ sake.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Sally had decided not to ring ahead to get the all-clear from Mr. Hammond, and he seemed more than a little surprised to see them when he came out of his office. Sally offered her hand, but he refused to shake it.

  “What are you doing here, Inspector?”

  “We need to interview another two members of your staff if you have no objections, sir.”

  “And if I have? After what happened the last time you spoke to one of my employees, I think I’m well within my rights to refuse you access to anyone else.”

  “That was an unfortunate incident. I assure you, it’s one that I have no intention of repeating. Perhaps you could arrange for us to use an office this time round?”

  “You don’t ask for much, Inspector, do you? Okay, I have a meeting elsewhere in the building for the next half an hour. You can use my office if you like. Don’t let me regret my decision, or I’ll be straight on the phone to Chief Constable Stockard.”

  “You have my guarantee on that. Thank you for giving us a second chance.”

  Hammond nodded abruptly and walked over to the receptionist’s desk. “Give the police officers what they need. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  “What do you need?” the receptionist asked tersely.

  “We need to speak with Nigel Sommers and Robin Fleshman, thanks.”

  “Take a seat, and I’ll arrange for them to come and see you.”

  The first man to arrive had long hair tied up in a ponytail. His face was gaunt, and he looked undernourished. “I’m Nigel Sommers. You want to see me about something?”

  “Care to join us in your boss’s office. I’m DI Sally Parker, and this is my partner, DS Jack Blackman.” The man appeared confused but followed them into the office anyway.

  Jack assembled three chairs around the desk.

  “What’s this about? I ain’t done nothing for ages. I’ve gone straight.”

  “Well, we’re reinvestigating the death of Anne Gillan, a former work colleague of yours, I believe. Does the name ring a bell?”

  “Of course it does.” He sniffed then wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

  “How well did you know Anne?”

  “Not very well. She used to serve me in the canteen. Didn’t really speak to her except to order my grub.”

  “Did you have any contact with her after hours?”

  “No, I’ve just told you that. Why? Am I a suspect?”

  “Not really, we’re merely making enquiries. Did you by any chance see Anne walking home that evening?”

  “When? Fifteen years ago? Are you nuts? I didn’t have anything to do with her death. Just because I’ve got a record, you think I’m guilty of all sorts. I was guilty of kissing an underage girl who swore blind that she was bloody eighteen. Then she called the cops on me. I ain’t been near a friggin’ woman since. You lot cry wolf too much for my liking. Not worth the effing risk.”

  “I’m sorry you had a bad experience. I have to ask everyone who came in contact with Anne. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it, lady. Otherwise, there’d be a queue of two hundred people outside this office. Everyone in this damn factory knew Anne. How come I’ve been singled out? Because I’m the one with a damn record. That bloody incident will haunt me my entire life now. Every time something happens in my neck of the woods and is reported on the news, the tongues wag and the fingers start to point in my direction. Bloody sick of it, I am. Yes, I’ve been tempted to move over the years, to start afresh somewhere else, but moving costs money, and I don’t make a packet here, so I’m stuck with this shit.”

  “Would you mind toning your language down, buster?” Jack said.

  “Sorry. I apologise. It just gets to me.” Sommers hung his head in shame.

  “I can understand that. Sorry if the questioning is uncomfortable for you, but I’m sure you can understand why we have to ask. Okay, that’s the interview over. Thanks for your time, Mr. Sommers.” Sally dismissed the man, overwhelmed by her feelings of guilt as he walked out of the office. “It is harsh why we always come down on these guys,” she admitted in a hushed voice.

  “What can we do when the reoffending rate goes through the roof at times? Are you getting soft in your old age, Sal?”

  She swiped the top of his arm just as the door opened. A ginger-haired man stuck his head round the door. “Robin Fleshman. You wanted to see me?”

  “Come in, Mr. Fleshman. Take a seat. I’m DI Sally Parker, and this is DS Jack Blackman.”

  He sat in the chair and crossed his arms. “Why do you need to see me?”

  “We’re interviewing anyone who knew Anne Gillan. Did you know her?”

  “Yes, but only to say hi to. I never really had a conversation with her. She used to serve me in the canteen. They’re always rushed off their feet in there, so no time for general chit-chat. I was shocked to learn she’d gone missing, but even more upset to hear that her body had been discovered last week. She seemed a pretty decent woman.”

  “Ah, I see. Maybe you saw her leave work on the night she went missing?”

  “If I did, I don’t really remember. That was donkey’s years ago.”

  “Worth a try. Maybe you overheard someone talking about Anne?”

  “About what? Not that I can recall. She had a few people she hung around with, I seem to remember. I saw you in the canteen yesterday speaking to them. What about that nutjob Endecott? Did you ask him before he killed himself? He always seemed to hang on her every word. I saw them having a slight disagreement one time.”

  “That’s interesting. No, I don’t think he had anything to do with her death. I think all he was guilty of was carrying a torch for her.”

  “I kept my distance from him. He gave me the creeps.”

  Sally contemplated the irony behind his words, wondering how many people had said the same about him over the years once they learned about his record. “Okay, thank you for your time, Mr. Fleshman. You’re free to go.”

  “Thanks. I hope you nail the evil shit who killed her.”

  “We hope so, too.”

  Fleshman left the office.

  “Where do we go from here? Everywhere we turn, it’s a dead end,” Jack stated dejectedly.

  “I desperately want to talk to Kenny now. That’s our next stop. Maybe dropping by unannounced will be the only way of seeing him.”

  “It’s a long shot, one that’s going to take us out of our way.”

  Sally rose from her seat and headed towards the door. “It’s necessary, Jack. Come on. I’ll buy you lunch on the way. Will that put a smile on your face?”

  “Might do.”

  As it was approaching twelve, Sally drove to a quaint village pub she knew close to the factory. The Four Feather’s car park was already beginning to fill up when she parked the car. “Shall we just grab something light? I didn’t realise it would be this busy.”

  Jack shrugged. “A sandwich or roll suits me.”

  They settled on two cheese-and-ham sandwiches washed down with orange juice before they set off again. Almost an hour later, they arrived at Kenny Gillan’s address. Sally rang the bell to the little cottage that had a pretty garden at the front. There was no reply. Sally spotted a path that led around the side of the cottage and Jack followed her into the back garden. It was one of the prettiest gardens she’d ever seen. Either Kenny or his wife really cared for the plot. The lawn was cut very low as if someone had mown it within the last day or two. “Someone has been here recently. Otherwise, this would be a mess.”

  “Do we know where he works? Maybe we could drop by and see him there,” Jack suggested.

  “No, I don’t have that information.” Sally peeped through the kitchen window. It was immaculate, not a thing out of place and no dishes in the sink. “Okay, I’ve seen enough. I’ll drop a card through the lett
erbox to let him know that we called and want to see him. We’ll see if he responds to that within the next day or two. If not, we’ll have to come back and try and track him down through his work.” A strange feeling rippled through Sally. Something wasn’t adding up.

  “There’s a garage out front. I’ll take a look in there on the way past.”

  They walked around the side of the property again and stopped alongside the garage. “Crikey, I haven’t seen one of those in years.”

  “What is it?” Sally asked, pulling Jack aside to peer through the window herself. Inside was a red Ford Capri. “Would you call that a vintage car nowadays?”

  “I suppose it must be. Maybe he’s starting a collection. I can’t see it being his main car. If you look at the gravel driveway, there’s evidence of another car being parked here.”

  “Get you, Sherlock. Why wouldn’t those tracks belong to the Capri?” Sally challenged him.

  “I could be wrong and talking utter nonsense of course.”

  Sally tutted. “I’m winding you up. I think you’re right, Jack.” She scribbled on the back of one of her business cards and popped it through the letterbox. “It’s a waiting game now.”

  “Would it be worth having a chat with the neighbours while we’re here?”

  Sally nodded. “Let’s split up. I’ll go left.” She knocked on the cottage next door, which was a little run-down compared to Kenny’s immaculate abode. An old lady carrying a yapping Yorkshire terrier opened the door.

  “Hush now, Tootsie.”

  The dog stopped barking.

  “Hello, what can I do for you, dear?”

  Sally flashed her warrant card. “Hello, I’m DI Sally Parker of the Norfolk Constabulary. I was looking for Kenny Gillan, your neighbour. Do you happen to know where he works?”

  “Gosh, he did tell me once upon a time. I’ll be damned if I can remember now. Is he in some kind of trouble? You know his brother is behind bars for murder, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that, and no, Kenny isn’t in any trouble. I was merely hoping to have a chat with him.”

  The woman let out a long sigh. “That’s a relief. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. The bloomin’ newspaper is full of horror stories. Hark at me, you’re in the police. You must see some horrendous sights in your job.”

  Sally nodded. “We do. But the bad cases are still few and far between in our area. Does Kenny live at the cottage alone?”

  “No, he’s got a wife and a little girl of about ten. They’re a lovely family. Moved here not long after his brother was put in prison. I didn’t have a clue who he was, but old Derek across the road—he’s gone now, rest his soul—he was the one who told me about his brother. Dreadful business, of course. The discovery of his sister-in-law’s body on the news last week was probably the last thing poor Kenny wanted to see.”

  Sally’s curiosity spiked a little. “Oh, why’s that?”

  “You know what the gossip treadmill is like. We all know Kenny in this close, but those living in the nearby streets are a different matter.”

  “Has Kenny been verbally abused? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I know there have been a few cars pulling up and people pointing at the house. Sad world we live in when that’s how people choose to live their lives, seeking out others and making their lives a misery like that.”

  “It is. I’m sorry to hear that. Has Kenny spoken to you about how he feels about that?”

  “No, dear, he doesn’t have to. I can see how angry he is about it. I think his wife, Alison, is pretty peeved about the intrusion, though.”

  “May I ask how you know that? Has she spoken to you, voicing her concerns?”

  “No. I don’t speak to them much. I’ve heard her screaming at him in the back garden, not when the daughter is around of course. Heart-breaking it is to see a once-happy family going through a tough time.”

  “And this has only happened since the news was aired about the sister-in-law’s body being discovered?”

  “That and the intrusion into their privacy from the neighbours in the adjoining road.”

  “You’ve been most helpful. I’ve left a card for them to contact me upon their return. Thank you so much.”

  “I like to help the police when I can, dear. I hope you get to speak to him soon.”

  Sally waved at the woman as she shut her rickety wooden gate and joined up with Jack by the car. “Anything?”

  “Not a sausage. No one in from what I can gather. What about you?”

  “I’ll tell you in the car. Still no further forward with regard to where he works.”

  On the journey back to the station, Sally relayed her conversation with the old lady and they speculated what it could mean. “Seems strange that folk should pull up outside his house, don’t you think?”

  “If you try to figure out the craziness going on in folks’ minds in today’s society, you’d soon end up going nuts. I blame all those gossip magazines myself. Everyone and their dog thinking they have a right to know what’s going on in everyone else’s life. It’s sickening.”

  “I’m with you on that one. What if—I’m trying to think outside the box here, so bear with me—what if proof of Anne’s death showing up last week has disrupted the marital home?”

  Jack looked at her, and his nose wrinkled. “I can’t see it myself. The wife would have known that Kenny’s brother was in prison, wouldn’t she?”

  “I have no idea. What if Anne’s death caused the wife to ask questions? Perhaps Kenny deliberately hid the truth about Craig Gillan being in prison, and when the story broke on the news, the wife demanded some answers.”

  “Possibly, and you think that’s why the arguments have started up?”

  Sally shrugged. “Who knows? Pure speculation until we can speak to either him or his wife. Let’s see if they contact us and go from there. I’ll leave it a few days. If they haven’t got in touch by Tuesday, I might drop by in the evening and see him.”

  “Well, you ain’t coming alone. I’ll come with you.”

  Sally smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

  “Not really. I suppose it depends on the weather, as usual. What about you?”

  “Nothing planned as yet. Not sure if Simon has got anything in mind for us. I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow—if he gets the day off, that is. Depends on his workload. He’s trying to palm the weekends off on his junior assistant. Reckons he’s put in enough years of working eighty-hour-a-week shifts.”

  “Nice that we’ll get the weekends off now that we’re tackling the cold-cases. Less urgency from above to get the cases solved, right?”

  “Within reason. I’d feel happier if we could wrap up each case as swiftly as possible if we can.”

  “What if we run out of cases?”

  “I don’t think that will ever happen, Jack. At the moment, all we’ve been asked to do is delve into Falkirk’s cases. There must be loads of bent coppers like him around. Maybe we’ll be asked to look at other regions’ cold-cases, providing we do a good job on the ones we’ve been asked to solve.”

  “What a dreadful thought. All those innocent people sitting behind bars because some tosser of a corrupt copper decided to bend the rules and stitch them up.”

  “Let’s not think about it too much. Concentrate on the cases we’re dealing with now and see where that leads us before we get ahead of ourselves.”

  Once they were back at the station, Sally immersed herself in paperwork while she waited for either Kenny or his wife to get in touch. At six o’clock, she’d finally had enough and drove to her parents’ house to pick up her dog, Dex, for the weekend.

  As usual, the golden Lab was super pleased to see her. She walked into the kitchen to find her parents sitting at the table, eating their evening meal. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. How are you, Dad?”

  “Better each day that passes, love. Any news on catch
ing the culprits yet?”

  “I checked with the desk sergeant before leaving, but they haven’t managed to locate the thugs yet. They’re probably lying low. Are you and Simon still intending to put in a bid for the house?”

  “Last time we spoke, that was the plan. The auction is on Tuesday at eleven.”

  “Okay, I’ll see if Jack and I can drop by on the day. Obviously, it depends how things progress with the case we’re working, but I think we can spare an odd hour or so. It’ll be interesting to see if the thugs turn up and bid for the house.”

  “That’ll be great. It’ll make your mother feel happier knowing that you’ll be there. Simon’s taking the morning off, I believe.”

  “I know. That’s unheard of. He’s such a workaholic, but he’s really got the renovating bug. It wouldn’t surprise me if he gave up being a pathologist altogether in the near future.”

  “Has he said that?” her father asked, placing his knife and fork down and relaxing back in his chair.

  “Not in so many words. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye that I think he’d be foolish to ignore. Saying that, he had to go through seven or eight years of training to become a pathologist. To give up that amount of dedication at the drop of a hat would be daft to me. I guess there’s no telling what lies around the corner for either of us. If renovating houses gets his blood pumping, unlike his day job, then why shouldn’t he persevere with it?”

  “Makes sense to me. I think I need to start looking around for another builder who matches my high standards. Not sure how long I’ll be able to keep up with the demand he expects from me if he has got the bug.” Her father laughed.

  “We’ll see how things pan out. I’m going to take Dex, and love you and leave you, if that’s all right? Do you want to join us for dinner on Sunday, or would you rather leave it for this week? You won’t offend me if you say no.”

  Sally’s mother placed her hand on her husband’s and glanced up at Sally. “Can we leave it for this weekend, love? Let’s get your father back to full health as soon as we can.”

  “No problem. If you change your mind, give me a ring.” Sally kissed her mother and father on the cheek and collected Dex’s leash. “I’ll ring you over the weekend and bring Dex back on Sunday evening, as usual.”