Divided House (Dark Yorkshire Book 1)

by J M Dalgliesh

  “Creepy?”

  “Yeah, always watching me as I did things. Even just folding the washing or something and there he was. He’d smile when I looked at him but it was… just…”

  “Weird?” Caslin offered. She nodded enthusiastically.

  “I reckon he’s on the run.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “He never had anything, no ID, no pay cheque. Always did stuff cash-in-hand, he was shifty.”

  “Why are you so scared of him?”

  Chloe looked at the floor. She rubbed at her eyes with her left hand and sighed deeply.

  “Him and Garry, they had the same interests. He’s the one you were talking about.”

  “The video recordings?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one you want. He did them… well, some of them.”

  “Chloe,” Caslin sighed. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

  She shook her head and once again failed to meet Caslin’s gaze. She could only repeat what she had already said.

  “They liked the same stuff.”

  “Why do you think he wanted you to go with him?”

  Chloe considered her response for a moment before answering.

  “I’ve been thinking about nothing else. Lee and Garry, they sort of thought I was theirs… like they were entitled to… you know?”

  “Both of them?”

  “Yeah, I guess Lee still sees it like that but it never was… it never was… he’s weird.”

  “What’s his full name?”

  “It’s something Chinese. Lee Nargong or Nehon, something like that. Sorry, I don’t know for sure. He was only introduced to me fully once. The first time that Garry brought him home.”

  The conversation was cut short as Simon Baxter came to stand before them. He pulled himself upright in what seemed to Caslin to be a somewhat stuffy manner.

  “About time we took this back to the station, wouldn’t you say?”

  Baxter was clearly annoyed. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out. Caslin glanced up at him and then across at Chloe.

  “The night you took off a police officer was murdered, DC Hayley Underwood. She was sitting in a car outside your house.”

  “I didn’t know… I…” she stammered.

  “We’ll find him, Chloe,” Caslin said softly. She smiled weakly at that. “And you’re going to help us.”

  The smile faded rapidly.

  Chapter 29

  Once safely returned to York, the senior team assembled in Frank Stephens’ office to plan their next move. The success of bringing in Chloe quickly forgotten as fractures within the Major Crimes Unit threatened to widen.

  “Why have we got her sitting comfortably in an interview room? It beggars belief. She should be sweating in a holding cell,” Baxter stated forcefully. Ranking the same as Caslin, he was stepping above his pay grade but he wasn’t alone.

  “That would be a mistake,” Caslin argued.

  “You’re kidding me, surely?” Baxter was dumbfounded. “You kill a copper and get what, a cup of tea and a toasted sandwich?”

  “We don’t know that she’s killed anyone—”

  “Piss off, Caslin!”

  “Calm down, Simon,” Stephens said, verbally stepping between the two of them. “She can be charged this afternoon. Let’s see if we can get a confession out of her first. Nathaniel’s right, we don’t have enough yet but we’ll get it.”

  “Sorry, Guv but you’re both wrong on this.”

  The DCI was somewhat taken aback as he looked to Caslin.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Chloe is still our best shot at tracking down this Lee. He’s proving elusive at best but I’ll put everything I have on it that this is the same guy the ex-servicemen, that McNeil associated with, referred to as ‘Charlie’. He’s the new focus of this investigation and Chloe is a link to him. The only one that we currently have.”

  “We’ve got half a team sitting through there throwing high-fives at each other because we’ve got Hayley’s killer downstairs and you want me to sit on it? Are you serious?”

  “You said it yourself, Frank,” Caslin was into his stride. “We don’t have enough on her for the CPS to prove reasonable doubt. Maybe the forensics will turn something up, we’ll have to wait and see on that. Maybe we can get a confession out of her if, and it’s a big if, she actually did it.”

  “You’ve got to be winding me up,” Baxter said solemnly. His anger having subsided if only a little.

  “Wanting someone to be the killer doesn’t always make it so,” Caslin challenged. Baxter looked away in disgust.

  “What then, are you suggesting we do with her?” the DCI asked.

  “Let’s give the white coats a chance. In the meantime, we can try and illicit something positive from her in the coming days and figure out what to throw at her in the future. If we charge her now, she’ll demand a solicitor and the barriers go up. I need… we need her on board.”

  Frank Stephens appeared to visibly slump in his chair. Caslin understood the frustrations of the team. They wanted someone in custody for the murder of a colleague and there was enough circumstantial evidence to convince many of them that they already had her. The DCI looked to the one who held the casting vote. He had maintained composure throughout the exchanges and said nothing, Kyle Broadfoot. All eyes looked to him.

  “I know many on the unit see this Lee character as just that, a name in a play. A cover to mask the McNeils’ actions. We all want a result and sooner, rather than later,” he paused and Caslin wondered whether he was still to make up his mind. “I’m prepared to go the extra mile on this one. I’m backing Nathaniel. We have nothing to lose and so much more to gain.”

  Caslin appreciated the vote of confidence, “Thank you, Sir.”

  Broadfoot looked him square in the eye, “As long as you play it right.”

  Caslin knew exactly what that meant. The meeting broke up without further discussion. The decision had been taken. Broadfoot’s support had come as quite a shock to Caslin. Entering CID, he considered that the DCS also wanted a greater result than just Chloe, albeit for altogether different reasons.

  The clock on the wall of the squad room had just passed eight o’clock when a file dropped onto the desk before Caslin. He glanced at the beige folder and then up at a smiling Simon Baxter, who appeared almost gleeful as he looked down.

  “What’s this?” Caslin asked, whilst unwinding the looped string holding the folder together.

  “I called in a favour from an old friend in the Military Police.”

  Caslin opened the folder and inside were several sheets of printed copy. The first was a personnel form from the MOD. The grainy black-and-white image in the top right-hand corner depicted an Asian man of oriental appearance, round-faced and youthful. A quick scan through saw his birth date was the 3rd August 1984.

  “That’s our boy.”

  “That’s our boy,” Baxter reiterated. “Arrived from Hong Kong, along with his parents in ’88, well ahead of the handover. His father worked in the RHK Police. The family all took British citizenship a year later.”

  Caslin continued to read through the file, looking for connections to anyone in the case. He didn’t see any.

  “A familial residential address in Hull is listed here,” Caslin read aloud.

  “He’s a Private in the Royal Logistic Corps, at least he was,” Baxter stated. “He had five years in until going absent without leave, in the February of last year.”

  “Lee Na Honn,” Caslin read out the name. “Chloe wasn’t far off. How does he tie in with McNeil?”

  “No clue as yet. As far as I can see there’s no obvious link.”

  “Not in Iraq or Afghanistan.”

  Baxter shook his head.

  “No, this guy wasn’t frontline.”

  “He received training in telecommunications, though,” Caslin indicated a line on the second page. “Looks like Harman was right.”

  “Harman? About what?�
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  “His training in telecoms and weaponry. It’s the old Pioneer Corps stuff.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh, they would drop in with the forward infantry. You know, first boots on the ground. They’d set up the comms for those that were following on,” Caslin replied absently, whilst reading through the document.

  “Maybe they met around then?”

  Caslin shrugged. It was possible but comparing his recollection of McNeil’s service history with a cursory inspection of the detail before him, he couldn’t see a crossover. He considered pulling out the page that Colonel Edwards had provided him with, back in Catterick, but then thought better of it. They could analyse it at a later date. Lee Na Honn had an exemplary record for the first three years of his service but had subsequently been in trouble on numerous occasions. In the latter two years, he had been placed on warning on two occasions. There were no details as to why this might be the case.

  “Let’s get his face out there.”

  “No, wait a second.”

  “What for?” Baxter challenged. “We’re onto him.”

  “But he doesn’t know that. He still thinks he’s a ghost. I have a better idea. Let’s go and have a chat with Frank and my new mate, Kyle.”

  “You must be out of your mind!” Chloe said defiantly, folding her arms across her chest and sitting back forcefully in her chair.

  “You wanted to be safe. This will achieve that.”

  “If it doesn’t get me killed first, you mean?”

  “We’ll be right there the whole time. There is a risk, I’m not going to lie to you, but this is your best shot. And ours for that matter.”

  “Why don’t you just do your job and leave me out of it?”

  Caslin sighed. The planned course of action had been a tough sell to Broadfoot, even with his revitalised faith in Caslin’s abilities. Getting Chloe to buy-in was proving far more difficult.

  “If you want this to be over, then here it is. It’s your choice,” Caslin placed a mobile phone on the table. It was hers.

  “He’ll never go for it.”

  “We’ll see. Lee doesn’t know that we have you here. Your image has been up in lights for the last two days and we haven’t let it out that we’re no longer looking for you.”

  “Oh yeah, and you guys are so good at keeping things quiet.”

  “Let’s not forget that helping us will help you. It’s your choice,” Caslin stated once again. He gently pushed the phone across the table towards her.

  There was a pause in the conversation where everyone present waited patiently, keeping a watchful eye on Chloe as she considered her situation. Her eyes never left the phone on the table, almost as if it was a prize possession that she dared not touch. After what seemed like an age she gently bobbed her head forward, which Caslin took as an acknowledgement. He instantly swept up the phone. Turning it on, he passed it over to her. After a moment of scrolling through her contact list, she selected a number and glanced up at Caslin.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Thankfully the forecast snow had thus far held off. The clouds had still rolled in, obscuring the moonlight and leaving the night slightly warmer than it would otherwise have been. That was the only positive to be taken from the situation. Caslin’s plan appeared to be working but as he sat in the car, alongside Frank Stephens, he contemplated the potential for disaster.

  “I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little nervous with this one, Guv. We’ve not had enough time to set this up.”

  Stephens passed him a wry, sideways smile, “Now you tell me. Na Honn has taken the bait. Let’s reel him in.”

  Chloe’s frightened call had been almost believable to those at Fulford Road and now, three hours later, they waited just off the A1 at his chosen spot. Chloe sat in the all-night diner. It was an American 1950’s style restaurant, all stainless-steel reflecting pink and blue neon. The location lent itself conspicuously to an almost altogether surreal situation.

  They waited roughly three hundred yards from the diner, on a service road used only by local traffic. In this neck of the Lincolnshire farmlands, there was precious little of it. Elsewhere in the darkness were three other CID teams. Terry Holt and DS Hunter held positions off to the south and west, respectively. Another car, containing DI Atwood and two further officers, was parked to the south east on a farm track, behind a small copse of trees. The location was fraught with operational constraints. Vantage points were limited due to the exposure of the open farmland encompassing them. The car park was accessed only from the southbound side of the A1 and apart from the local minor roads, the sealing off of the area without making it apparent, was nigh on impossible.

  Chloe sat at the counter, absently sipping on a glass of cola that she had bought. Through his binoculars, Caslin could see that she was nervous. Ordinarily, this operation would never have gone ahead so late in the day, with such little prior planning but this was Na Honn’s demand. To delay the meeting may well have tipped their hand. They felt that there was no choice but to agree.

  Caslin was grateful that Chloe wasn’t alone inside the building. Baxter had taken up a position to the left of the entrance. That seat gave him an uninterrupted view of anyone coming into the car park as well as the diner itself. Further to that, there were four armed officers in the kitchens to the rear, ready to move in if the signal was given. Another two sets of armed response officers were waiting a short distance away in unmarked vehicles, ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. The last piece of the tactical jigsaw was the police helicopter, which was flying a holding pattern over Lincoln City, some ten miles away. Everyone present knew that the helicopter would only be deployed in the event of things not going to plan.

  Checking the time, he saw that it was approaching ten-past eleven. Caslin quietly reviewed the positioning of the various teams and reassured himself that they had covered as many variables as possible. The only option that was available to them now was to wait. The tension had been growing since the very moment Chloe had agreed to the meeting.

  “All teams, check-in,” DCI Stephens requested.

  There then followed a response in numerical order of all those present. All reported no change in their status.

  “Do you think he’ll show?”

  Caslin pursed his lips before answering.

  “He’ll show. He won’t be able to stay away.”

  “What if he’s rumbled us?”

  “He’ll show.”

  Another twenty minutes passed by without incident. Stephens took radio checks at ten-minute intervals. As the time passed, the feeling that they would get a result began to fade amongst the waiting officers.

  “How long do we give it?” Frank Stephens asked as he checked his watch once more.

  Caslin glanced at the clock on the dashboard and was about to reply when his phone rang. Removing it from his pocket bathed the interior of the car in blue light. The number was withheld and he took a deep breath before answering. A familiar voice was at the end of the line.

  “Did you honestly believe that I was going to walk straight into your little gathering?”

  “What are you talking about?” Caslin played dumb.

  “Credit me with a little intelligence, please. You’re insulting me.”

  Caslin glanced over at Stephens who understood who the caller was and got out of the vehicle as quickly as he could. Once outside the DCI began relaying details to the teams positioned around the diner. For now, they were to hold position.

  “I figured that you would be calling me at some point.”

  “What, after that little stunt you pulled with Sullivan? For someone of his experience, he is certainly naïve when it comes to playing the game. You on the other hand, Inspector, are another matter entirely. Although, that was a clumsy effort to flush me out.”

  “What are you playing at, Lee?”

  “Ahh, so the little bird has been tweeting? It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”

>   “What’s the end game here?”

  “I’m not giving you all the answers, Nathaniel. You’re paid to figure these things out-”

  “I’m paid to get you off the streets and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “To stop me in my tracks. Is that it?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “We’ll see. Wait a moment, would you?”

  “Why? You have something more pressing to—”

  The sound of a gunshot tore through the silence. For a second, Caslin thought he was the target before he heard a delayed sound relayed through his earpiece, preceded by that of breaking glass. There then followed a momentary pause before shouting emanated once more, through his earpiece.

  “Delta One is down. I repeat, Delta One is down,” a lone voice crackled, quoting the code name for Chloe McNeil.

  Caslin raised his binoculars but all he could see was the pandemonium within the diner. People appeared to be running in every direction. Another voice cut through on the network, it was Frank Stephens.

  “All stations secure Delta One, secure… Delta… One. Does anyone have eyes on the shooter?”

  “From the east,” was the reply but Caslin noted the response was via his phone.

  “The shot came from the east, repeat, from the east. I have no eyes on,” Baxter’s strained reply was transmitted.

  Stephens issued orders as Caslin tried to make sense of his own confused state.

  “All stations converge to the east. Exercise extreme caution. I need that chopper in here now.”

  Caslin heard laughter coming down the phone line. Anger flared within him and he scrambled from the car, bringing his own radio to bear.

  “Switch to the alternate channel. I repeat, switch to the alternate channel. Suspect has our comms.”

  Frank Stephens looked across. His ashen-faced expression was one of fear as the realisation of what was happening dawned on him.

  “Shit!”

  “What are you playing at, Lee?” Caslin shouted. “Tell me!”

  There was a period of silence. Caslin swore he could feel his heart pounding within his chest. His breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. He stared into the darkness trying to make out what was hidden beyond his sight. The reply, when it came, was crystal clear.