by L M Krier
'To what end? What do you see as their motivation?' she asked.
'I have no idea,' Ted admitted frankly. 'I'm just trying to get my head round it.'
'Are you sure this is not becoming something of an obsession? Are you letting what happened to you in the past cloud your judgement of the relevance of this to your current enquiry?'
Ted swallowed his mouthful of bagel before replying. He knew she was probably right. He was getting fixated on a historic case which, although tragic, had nothing to do with the current crime he needed to be working on.
'Let's just say, for some reason which I don't yet profess to understand, this person had done just that, planted the germ of an idea, which led to tragic consequences …'
'I think this is about the nicest bagel I've had in Stockport. You must tell me where you got them. The ones I've been buying aren't a patch on these.'
Ted realised it was her way of telling him that the discussion was closed. And he knew she was right. He needed to let it drop. He promised himself that he would read the links which Carol sent him and then let it go at that.
It had inevitably crossed his mind that his own disturbing flashbacks might in some way have been distorted or manipulated in his mind by the passage of time. But he trusted Carol completely, both professionally and as a person.
He decided to take a turn round each supermarket car park he passed close to on his way back to the station. It was unlikely to produce any result, but it was worth a shot and wouldn't take up much of his time. The attacks had so far been early evening, often when there were still a lot of shoppers about, though always after dark.
Their attacker was certainly bold as, approaching the end of the year, the shopping frenzy was already starting to be evident. Last Christmas had been a horrendous time for Ted and he was not looking forward to the one to come, with the memories it would inevitably bring. It seemed to him that the build-up was starting earlier every year. He wondered how long it would be before the shelves were full of cards and tinsel in September.
He cruised slowly round the first supermarket he came to, not really sure what he was looking for. As he drove back down between the parked cars, heading for the exit, he saw an attractive young woman, pushing a fully-laden trolley, get her keys out and activate the remote central locking of a smart, sporty BMW hatch, parked a good few yards away.
There was a space on the left of the silver car and Ted swung his Renault into it, pulling out his warrant card. As the woman reached her car and went to open the tailgate, Ted approached her in the silent stealth mode his team knew to their cost, warrant card in hand.
'Excuse me,' Ted began quietly.
The young woman was just leaning into the back of the car to load her shopping. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Her head shot up, hit the underside of the car's roof and she dropped a shopping bag, scattering apples and oranges all over the floor.
'I'm sorry, please don't be alarmed, I'm a police officer,' Ted said hastily as the woman swore loudly and rubbed her head.
Now feeling a complete idiot, Ted started to scramble round trying to pick up her dropped shopping.
'What the fuck are you doing, sneaking up on people in a car park? Are you some sort of pervert?' the woman demanded, her tone aggrieved.
Ted had managed to retrieve some of the fruit and stuff it back in her bag. He held his warrant card out again so she could see it more clearly.
'No, I really am a police officer. I'm very sorry I startled you, I was just trying to warn you. I wondered if you'd heard about the recent sex attacks in Stockport and realised the danger you just put yourself in?'
She was still rubbing her head and looking at him with undisguised suspicion, clearly not convinced he was genuine. She was taller than Ted, which was not unusual. His short stature often posed difficulty for him in getting people to believe that he really was a copper.
'Of course I've heard about it; it's been all over the papers and the telly. But it's broad daylight. I've stopped shopping after dark. Where's the danger?'
'You have just the sort of car the attacker targets, and you unlocked it from quite a distance away. I was in the next parking space. I could easily have got into your car.'
She gave him a withering look and snapped, 'Have you ever been smacked in the face with a Jimmy Choo?' looking down at the short boots in which she was teetering on impossibly high heels. 'Now why don't you do one, officer?'
Still apologising profusely, Ted slunk back into his car, feeling he had just made a complete prat of himself, and drove off. What had just happened had given him an idea though, something he needed to discuss with the Ice Queen as soon as he got back to the nick.
But first he had an errand to run. He was starting to realise that Bill was right. He either needed longer arms, or it was time to bite the bullet and get a pair of reading glasses. He was dreading it. It seemed to be a further indication that he was turning middle-aged, which might explain why he wasn't making the progress with the current case that he would have liked to.
Even the formal and strictly professional Ice Queen appeared to have difficulty keeping a straight face as Ted described his encounter on the car park when he got back to the station. But he was in deadly earnest.
'Ma'am, I know nothing about fashions, men's or women's, but I do know there's not a shoe been designed that's a match for a Fairbairn-Sykes knife, especially if it's in the hands of someone trained in its use.
'The public may not be taking this seriously enough. Can we get the press office to put out more advice on self-protection? Things like not using the remote from too far away, and being careful who's next to your vehicle before you get into it?'
'I can certainly sort out something on those lines. It can only help us if we attempt to make things more difficult for this attacker,' she said, then added, still struggling to hide a smile, 'Meanwhile, I do hope I am not going to get calls from members of the public reporting one of my officers as a sex pest?'
Carol had been true to her word and found time to send Ted some links to further information on False Memory Syndrome. Ted printed them out to take home. The paperwork on his desk had been breeding again and he needed to spend some time making a concerted effort to clear it. He'd look at the information when he got home, as it was not strictly related to his current enquiry.
He was home before Trev for once, as his partner had gone to karate club. Ted would have liked to have joined him but couldn't justify the time to himself. It also gave him chance to try out the reading glasses while he was on his own. He was feeling self-conscious about the need for them and wanted time to get used to the idea.
Trev had been in the house to collect his karate kit on his way home from work and had also left Ted the accounts he had asked to see, with a note of Geoff's proposals for Trev's half share. The figure was slightly higher than Ted had expected, but it should still be feasible. They had a reasonable joint income, never spent lavishly and had a bit put by. Ted was in steady employment, with an excellent credit rating. Even in the current risk-averse times, he thought his bank would probably advance him what he needed. He looked carefully through the accounts and they seemed healthy enough to at least approach the bank. He would do anything within his power to make Trev happy.
He then turned his attention to the print-outs he had on False Memory Syndrome, backing it up with reference to a website Carol had suggested. He was so engrossed in his reading, he hardly heard Trev come in until he heard him exclaim, 'Oh my God! You look so sexy in specs.'
Trev strode across the kitchen, put his arms round Ted's shoulders from behind and kissed the back of his neck. Ted looked up over the top of the tawny tortoiseshell frames, which the young woman in the shop had insisted were perfect to complement his dusty blonde hair and hazel eye colouring.
'Are they all right?' he asked anxiously. 'The young lady in the shop said they were fine, but you know I'm no good at anything like that.'
'If you give me that stern police
man look over the top of them, I might not be responsible for my actions,' Trev warned him, kissing him again.
Ted carefully unwrapped Trev's arms, kissed his wrists and pushed him gently but firmly away.
'Are you all right?' Trev asked, suddenly looking concerned. 'Not like you to say no.'
'It's not no, it's just not now. I need to read through some stuff for work, and to study these accounts in detail. If you want to join the grown-up world and go into business, we need to put together some sort of business plan, tonight, for me to present to the bank. After that, we'll see.'
Chapter Five
The local press had given some coverage to the safety advice to drivers, particularly to those who could be targets. Ted sensed, however, that they were waiting with bated breath for something a lot juicier, to splash all over their front pages.
With a reminder from the Ice Queen, Ted had called the local reporter to let him know in advance before the press release went out. He had also taken the time to ask for his cooperation in giving it some prominence, if he could.
'I'll do my best for you, Ted, but you know that's not the sort of stuff that sells papers these days. Readers love to read about the ones who didn't get away, d'you know what I mean?'
'I really appreciate your help, Alastair, and you can be sure that as soon as there is any other development, you'll be the first to hear,' Ted had said, before he hung up and swore under his breath. Dealing with the press in general, and the local reporter in particular, always made him feel tainted.
The next attack, when it came, wasn't on their patch.
'Dover, boss,' Rob O'Connell told them at the morning briefing.
'See, I told you, he's a trucker. Plenty of ferries to the continent from Dover all the time. Second busiest port in Europe,' Jessica Vine said triumphantly. She was a mine of general knowledge, largely thanks to her autistic younger brother Tommy and his obsession with Trivial Pursuit.
'Is there something we should know about you and this obsession with lorry drivers, Jezza?' Rob asked her, but it was good-natured banter, an exchange of equals on the team. Nothing like the sort of sexist remarks Jezza had encountered in previous stations, which were simply not tolerated by Ted on his team.
'Why a lorry, though, Jezza?' Ted asked. 'I agree there's a possibility he uses the ferry, and the Shuttle to Europe, but why not just a car driver?'
'It could be a car driver. Maybe doing the booze run to Calais, then, perhaps, going on to somewhere here, with a boot full of drink for, I don't know, a get-together with some old mates? Some old forces mates if he is ex-military?' suggested Mike Hallam.
'Same knife again, Rob? Was the victim injured?' Ted asked him.
'Victim was too shaken up to have taken much notice of the knife, but again she was cut rather than stabbed. The wound needed stitches but it wasn't classed as a serious one.'
'So, one at a Channel port, one near the Shuttle terminal, and three on our patch. Does that mean Stockport is his home, or just somewhere he likes to stop off on his travels? In between checking the leads we've had so far, you need to get out round your contacts and see if anyone knows anything.
'Let's not assume anything at all, but there is still the possibility that our man may be ex-forces. If he's been a career soldier, he could have done around twenty or more years, which could put him around the mid-forties, as our man is said to be. He could also be a lorry driver,' Ted inclined his head towards Jezza in acknowledgement of her idea,'but let's not get totally hung up on any of that, either. Try to keep an open mind.'
'Boss, I ran into Nat, that former witness, who now works in a supermarket. He was on an early evening shift while I was looking for digestive biscuits and brown sauce for the wife,' Virgil chipped in.
'Thanks for sharing that image, Virgil. I may never be able to look at a digestive biscuit again,' Jezza smiled.
'Try sitting up in bed with her while she's eating them,' Virgil grinned back. 'Anyway, part of Nat's duties include gathering up trolleys from the car park, so I asked him to keep a look out.'
Ted nodded and added, 'I hope you warned him that our man is dangerous? The last thing we need is a member of the public getting hurt trying to play the hero.
'Steve, how did you get on looking at bus routes? Anything there?'
'Too much, sir,' Steve replied. 'Because the attacks have all been early evening, there are still quite a few buses running. I've not really been able to come up with anything much that's conclusive yet, over the three separate locations of the attacks. But I'll keep working on it.'
'If he is a trucker …' Jezza began, before the rest of the team laughed and Rob said, 'Seriously, Jezza, what is it with you and lorry drivers?'
Jezza stuck her tongue out at him and said, 'Shut up and listen, you lot. Seriously. Just suppose he is a lorry driver. Perhaps he parks his rig somewhere near to where he attacks, then goes back there and drives off when he's finished.'
'Bloody hell, bonny lass, I think you've got something there. That's not a bad idea …'
Jezza cut him short. 'Before you say “for a woman”, Maurice, let me remind you that I'm into kickboxing, not painting my nails,' she said scathingly, but it was clear the remark was light-hearted, despite her tone.
Ted let the exchange go. It was harmless enough and he knew the team needed a release from the tensions they worked under. He was pleased to see how much Jezza was now becoming one of them, both giving out and taking the banter.
'It's a good suggestion, one we need to look at,' Ted said. 'Find out where there is lorry parking close to where the attacks have been. Remember, if he drives containers, he may just be parking up his cab, which needs less room, of course. Ask around, see if anyone knows or suspects anything. Mike, don't forget to liaise with Inspector Turner for some extra officers from Uniform to help. And talk to the CSOs, see what they've heard.'
Police Community Support Officers were usually the first ones the public talked to about concerns or suspicions. They had their ears close to the ground of their communities and would often get wind of things before CID officers did.
'Rob, talk to Folkestone and Dover police, mention the idea to them, see if they've had any similar thoughts, or if it could be a possibility in their cases. And everyone, whenever you have time, ask your contacts if they know anyone who might just fit the profile, assuming he is local. But Maurice, that is not licence to go on a pub crawl,' Ted said with mock severity, knowing what Maurice was like if he got an excuse.
Maurice grinned at him innocently. 'Me, boss? As if!'
'Right, let's get on with it, see if we can come up with anything new. Rob, same as for Folkestone, can you make sure we all have the full details of the case in Dover. Maurice, have you got a minute, please?'
Maurice followed Ted into his office, shut the door behind them and sat down, vaguely wondering what he'd said or done wrong this time.
'I'd like you to come with me tomorrow morning for an appointment I've got. It's not strictly speaking to do with this case, only indirectly. I'm not sure how it's going to go, and I just basically need someone there to listen and say nothing.'
'You want me to look mean and moody then?' Maurice smiled.
'Something like that,' Ted grinned in reply. 'I may be taking us both on a wild goose chase, but it's just a loose end I want to tie up. It won't take us long. Thanks, Maurice.'
Another detail Ted had run down was to formalise what he had learned about the death of Kenny Norman. He'd contacted the police in Luxembourg for confirmation of the suicide and had been sent an official copy of the death certificate, which could now be put on the case file. The whole affair had been a tragedy which still played on his mind, and he was not quite finished with it yet.
Norman's accuser, Jenny Holden, had tried to see him again but been blocked by Bill at the front desk. She had, though, managed to get him on the phone and was still insistent that there must be a link between what she believed had happened to her all those years ago and wha
t was currently happening. She was starting to make noises about a police cover-up and Ted was anxious to try to keep a lid on the situation.
If Pocket Billiards got hold of even a sniff of such a story, it would certainly not help their current enquiry. Nor did Ted want to see Kenny Norman's sister publicly dragged through all the unpleasantness which would follow.
'Miss Holden, clearly there are aspects of the case which I cannot discuss with you, because of confidentiality. However, I can assure you, and I do hope you will accept this, that I have carried out a thorough investigation, following what you told me. I can tell you that there was unequivocal evidence at the time that Mr Norman did not sexually assault you, which is why no charges were forthcoming. I also have categoric proof that he is no longer in this country and has not been for a number of years.'
'You would say that, though. You lot stick together, cover up your messes or any hint of police corruption,' her voice was rising, taking on a note of hysteria.
'I assure you, Miss Holden, that your complaint was thoroughly investigated and there was no case to answer against Mr Norman. And once again, I looked carefully into the information you provided to me. In light of information I received from another force, I was able to rule Mr Norman out as a suspect in this current enquiry. I'm sorry that's not the answer you were hoping for, but I would ask you to trust me on this. There is no question of any sort of cover-up.'
She was in tears and incoherent when she rang off, clearly not happy. With a sigh, Ted realised he was going to have to tell the Ice Queen about the whole incident, in case the first she saw of it was a sensationalist story splashed over the local papers. He did not, however, intend to mention his upcoming appointment with the therapist who had treated Jenny Holden. Ted didn't often play the maverick, but he just felt he needed to try to understand what had gone on.
'What an extraordinary case,' the Ice Queen commented as Ted filled her in, over a cup of her delicious coffee. 'I've never heard anything quite like it. You were quite right to inform me. It's precisely the sort of witch-hunt we want to avoid at the best of times, and certainly with an ongoing enquiry of this type.
