Shut Up and Drive: DI Ted Darling Book 4

by L M Krier

  Ted's mobile rang while he was reading. He answered it without even looking at the screen.

  'Ted? It's Philip. I take it you had a hand in what I'm currently reading in the press? If you did, I love you for it. The world is better off without someone like that, messing with the heads of impressionable young people, just at a time when they need help and support.'

  He ended the call before Ted had chance to say anything. There was clearly still a lot of raw feeling there. He wished there was a way to make it better, but he decided that picking trying to go over the past to put things right was not always the best thing to do.

  Ted was so engrossed in what he was reading that he barely noticed his office door open until he found the Ice Queen towering over his desk. He leapt up anxiously, trying to read her expression, looking at her over the top of the reading glasses he was wearing.

  She sat down, without him saying anything.

  'So,' she began. 'Our Dr Cooper was not what she seemed to be. And you said nothing to your press contact about any of this?'

  'Not a word, ma'am,' Ted replied, with a clear conscience. 'In fact, I didn't know about the phony qualification.'

  'Probably just as well, in view of how your discussion with her went when you didn't know,' she said, but her eyes had a mischievous twinkle as she said it. 'What I really need to know is whether there is likely to be any fall-out which we will have to deal with. Do you think the press in general will be happy to let the unfortunate Mr Norman remain anonymous? It is to be hoped so, for the sake of his sister.'

  'I doubt they'd do it for that reason but yes, hopefully they'll be more interested in trying to track down anyone else with a story to tell after a visit to the Dodgy Doc.'

  She seemed satisfied and went on her way, leaving Ted to try again to clear his paperwork backlog. He wished there was some of it he could delegate, much as he hated to hand work on. At the moment he felt he was drowning in it, and Ted hated to feel he was drowning.

  He was interrupted once more by the phone on his desk ringing.

  'Ted? Bill. You have a visitor.' The duty sergeant lowered his voice slightly as he added, 'It's Jenny Holden again, in a right old state. She's insisting on seeing you. Can you come down?'

  Ted sighed quietly. It was about the last thing he needed, but he was clearly going to have to go and sort it. He had known she was likely to be devastated by some of the revelations about the person in whom she had put so much trust.

  'Is there an interview room free? Can you get someone to put her in there, with a cup of tea, and I'll be right down. I don't suppose you could spare me Susan Heap or someone? I'd just feel happier with someone with me.'

  'You know how stretched we are, Ted. Could your young Jezza not do it?'

  'I can't let her get involved in the current case at all …'

  'It's not connected to your current enquiries though, is it?' Bill cut in, his tone reasonable. 'This is historic stuff, and not even true at that, as it turns out.'

  'You're right, as usual, Bill. I'll see who's free and come down in a minute.'

  Jezza was working at her desk. Sal was the only other one in the office, still manning the phones with the endless calls about people allegedly using the catch phrase.

  'Sal, could you come down and sit in with me, please, while I talk to someone? It's nothing to do with this case. I don't know if you've seen the local paper? It's related to their lead story. The woman referred to only as JH is downstairs wanting to talk to me. I'd prefer not to do it alone and Susan Heap's not free.'

  'The Dodgy Doc?' Sal queried. 'Is there something in it for us, then?'

  'It's complicated. One of her former patients, or clients, or whatever they are, one who made serious allegations, is downstairs. She wants to talk to me and I'd just prefer to have a witness. She's apparently in a bit of a state. There are things she clearly wasn't aware of, and it must all have come as a considerable shock.'

  'Er, hello, boss?' Jezza said pointedly. 'Apparently invisible female officer here, ready, willing and available for all chaperone duties.'

  Ted hesitated. 'Jezza, I just think this could be something you might want to avoid …'

  She was already on her feet as she said, 'You've already said it's got nothing to do with the current case. So whatever else it is, I have a medical certificate to say I'm fit to do it. Shall we go?'

  A constable in uniform was waiting with Jenny Holden when Ted and Jezza arrived. Ted thanked her as she left, then he and Jezza sat down opposite the woman. She looked pale and distressed and her hand, trying to hold the cup of tea she had been given, was shaking badly whenever she attempted to lift it to her mouth.

  'It was all lies,' she began as soon as they sat down, her voice anguished. 'Whatever that woman did to me, however she made me believe what I did believe, it was just lies. How was she able to carry on doing stuff like that, for ten years or more? When she wasn't even qualified?'

  'Ms Holden, I haven't had the opportunity to look into Dr Cooper's background …'

  'Doctor? Quack, more like,' she spat. 'How could it happen? I was alone with her; I trusted her. She hypnotised me and planted all sorts of stuff in my head …'

  'Again, I can't really comment at this stage. It's not something I know enough about. There will certainly be a full investigation into what went on …'

  'Oh God, poor Kenny,' she suddenly wailed, looking more distressed than ever. 'None of it was true, was it? I said all those things about him. Dreadful, dreadful things. Then when the police wouldn't take any action, I did something really shocking. I thought he was guilty and the police were just covering up, for some reason. That's what I went to the papers about. The supposed cover-up. Now I know what really happened. Kenny was innocent all along. It was her. She made me believe he was guilty.'

  She leaned forward in her chair, making earnest eye contact first with Ted, then Jezza, then back to Ted. 'But I really believed it. I honestly did. I was convinced that Kenny had raped me.'

  Ted sensed Jezza shifting uncomfortably in her seat next to him. He inwardly cursed his stupidity and thoughtlessness for having brought her in on the conversation, particularly without warning her exactly what the subject matter was.

  'Ms Holden, I accept that you firmly believed what you were saying. It's unfortunate that, because of confidentiality, the police were not able to share information with you to explain why they had been able to establish, beyond any doubt, that Kenny Norman was innocent. I can assure you categorically that there was no cover-up.'

  She was crying now, noisy sobs. Wordlessly, Jezza took a packet of paper handkerchiefs out of her pocket and handed them to her.

  'I have to make it right. I have to find Kenny and beg him to forgive me. He was always so kind to me. You said he was out of the country? I can remember where he used to live. I'll go there, see if his mother is still alive, or his sister. I'll tell them how very sorry I am for all the terrible things I said and did, and ask them to please let me get in contact with Kenny and tell him myself.'

  Ted cleared his throat awkwardly to buy himself some time. He realised that he was rapidly getting out of his depth, still desperately trying to keep control of a situation he didn't feeling qualified to handle.

  'Ms Holden, perhaps it might just be better to leave it all in the past? Kenny and his family knew he was innocent. I think they probably accept that you had, er, various problems in your private life which may have led to you behaving as you did …'

  'But I can't just put it in the past,' she sobbed. 'Apart from the terrible damage I did to Kenny, and to his family, I spent six months of my life in prison because of it. I have to start trying to put it right.'

  Nothing Ted tried to say could shake her resolve, even when he pointed out she was not supposed to contact the family at all. She left the station stating her intention to try to track down Kenny Norman to begin to make amends.

  'Jezza, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have involved you in that …' Ted began awkwardly as t
hey started back up the stairs together.

  'Forget it, boss, it's fine,' she reassured him. 'It's my job. I can't just stop working on anything which reminds me of what happened to me or I wouldn't be very good at it, would I?'

  Ted hesitated in his office, the phone in his hand. Whatever he did at the moment seemed to make a bad situation worse. He thought he better phone Kenny Norman's sister, though, just to let her know that Jenny Holden might turn up on her doorstep.

  'I haven't, of course, told her anything about what happened to your brother, Ms Norman. But I thought I better warn you that she may well try to contact you. She may even be on her way there. It is, of course, entirely up to you whether or not you choose to tell her what happened.

  'Thank you for calling, Inspector, you really are most kind. I did hear on the local news about the so-called doctor Jenny went to see. Kenny never blamed Jenny, you know. That's the sort of man he was. He kept saying that she was easily led. That's why she got into trouble with drink and drugs and whatever else it was.

  'It would have been easy to plant the germ of an idea in her head and she would have believed anything. She was, what's the word they use nowadays? Suggestible. Yes, that was it. Suggestible. If someone she trusted told her that any factual historical event never happened, she would believe it.

  'If she comes here, I will probably tell her the truth about Kenny. I think she deserves to know. I will also, of course, tell her that he never blamed her. That he forgave her. It was just his experience at the hands of the police which destroyed him. Perhaps that might give her some peace. And then perhaps we can all leave the whole dreadful episode in the past, where it belongs.'

  Ted was relieved to get home at the end of a long day. Trev had not been in long himself. Now he was a partner in the business, he was trying to build it up, taking on more service contract work. He was feeding the cats in the kitchen. The oven was on and something inside it was smelling good. Their self-defence and martial arts clubs were on a break over the holiday period so they wouldn't be going out.

  They exchanged a hug and Ted said, 'I hope your day's been better than mine. If ever they make putting your foot in it an Olympic sport, I'll be the team captain. I seem to have done nothing but all day.'

  'I've been madly busy all day, like a proper grown up,' Trev grinned. 'Makes me realise how much of a skiver I was when I was just a wage earner. Supper won't be long. It's just heated up left-overs, I'm afraid. I can't be a high-flying businessman and a brilliant cook at the same time. Do you want to put your feet up for ten minutes before we eat?'

  'If I do, I'll just fall asleep. I'll lay the table, keep myself awake …' he was interrupted by his mobile phone's Freddie Mercury ringtone.

  'Bill again, Ted, sorry to disturb you. We've just had a call about a suspicious death. A young woman, found by her flatmate, hanging from her bedroom door. I thought you'd want to know straight away, only I knew the address as soon as I heard it. I don't have a formal ID yet, but the address is Jenny Holden's.'

  Chapter Twenty-one

  'So sorry, I have to go,' Ted told Trevor apologetically. 'A suspicious death. As it happens, it's someone I was speaking to this morning, it seems. I've no idea how long I'll be.'

  'I'll keep some food for you. Have you at least time for a cuppa and maybe a sandwich?'

  Ted shook his head. 'Got to go. I'll be back as soon as I can.'

  Rob O'Connell was on call for the evening so Ted phoned him and arranged to drive by his house to pick him up. No sense in both of them having to get their cars out. Bill had given Ted the address and it was not far.

  There was already a Uniform presence and Ted could see from the vehicles outside that one of the younger pathologists on Bizzie Nelson's team was also there already.

  Ted and Rob pulled on shoe covers and latex gloves before entering what was at this stage a potential crime scene. The flat in question was on the third floor, at the top of the tall, narrow building, with a dimly-lit, creaking staircase.

  A distraught young woman was being consoled by one of the first attending officers out on the landing. Another officer was at the open door to the flat, controlling entry. Although Ted knew every officer in the station by name as well as by sight, for form's sake he produced his warrant card before he stepped carefully into the small space of a cramped and cluttered hallway.

  'It's the room at the far end, on the right, sir,' the constable on the door told him. 'The pathologist is already there.'

  Ted and Rob made their way down the passage. Clearly, housework had not been a favourite occupation of either Jenny Holden or her flatmate. The whole place stank of stale cigarette smoke and old beer.

  The body had already been cut down and was lying on the floor just inside a door which opened on to a dingy and untidy bedroom. James Barrington, the pathologist, was examining it. There was what appeared to be a bathrobe cord round Jenny Holden's neck, her tongue protruding between her teeth, her face discoloured.

  'Evening, Ted,' James said in response to Ted's greeting, without looking up from his work. 'On the face of it, this is a simple suicide. I've seen nothing suspicious at all so far. Recent, too. I'd say she'd only been dead an hour or so when the flatmate found her. She cut her down and made a half-hearted attempt to resuscitate, but it was far too late.'

  'I was speaking to her only this morning,' Ted said, trying not to look at the body but finding his eyes were compulsively drawn to it, despite his best efforts. Instinctively, he put a Fisherman's Friend lozenge in his mouth and let its menthol fumes help to disguise the inevitable smell from the body.

  'It's all such a mess, a real tragedy. You've probably seen the papers. This was the young woman involved in the historical rape allegation.

  'Rob, can you get a statement from the flatmate, please? We'll clearly need to talk to her again, probably tomorrow, when she's recovered from the initial shock, but find out what she can tell us for now.

  'When can you fit the post-mortem in, James, any idea yet?'

  'We're just a bit snowed under at the moment, Ted. The Professor's had to take a couple of days off as her mother's had a fall, so there's a slight backlog. As this isn't looking like anything suspicious, can I provisionally say early afternoon tomorrow? But if I find anything on the body which makes me think there may be more to it, I promise to let you know and to bump her up the list.

  'There's a note, which should simplify things, I imagine. Stay where you are, I'll pass it over.'

  He straightened up and went to a dressing table, of sorts, underneath the window. Every inch of its surface area was covered in cosmetics, dirty coffee mugs, and a layer of dust. Ted took out an evidence bag from his pocket and held it open so that James could drop the note straight into it.

  It wasn't long. He scanned it quickly. Jenny's handwriting was a childish scrawl, her spelling was poor, but the meaning was clear. Ted couldn't help thinking to himself that Jenny Holden had clearly been much better with figures than with words.

  'I been thinking so much about what I did to Kenny. I never meant for it to happen. I beleived what I said, what that woman made me think. Im sorry for Kenny for everything. Sorry. And sorry Rhona. Luv you x'

  'Thanks, James. Just let me know a time for tomorrow when you can and one of us will be there. I'll just check with the flatmate if this is Jenny's handwriting. But as you say, it looks straightforward at the moment. Still a tragic loss of a young life, though.'

  Rob had taken the flatmate into the kitchen, where the Uniform constable had made her a cup of tea. She offered to make some for Rob, and for Ted, when he came in, but both declined when they saw the dirty dishes piled up in a bowl of greasy, grey water.

  Ted looked enquiringly at Rob, who made the introductions. 'Boss, this is Jenny's flatmate, Rhona Wesley. Rhona, this is Detective Inspector Darling.'

  'You've had a terrible shock, Miss Wesley, and I don't want to bother you more than I need to for the moment. I wonder if you could just take a look at this note fo
r me and tell me if you recognise the handwriting?'

  He let her take the note to examine, protected as it was inside the evidence bag. The sight of it brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  'It's Jenny's writing. She wrote it,' she confirmed. 'I didn't see it when I went in. I was too busy trying to get Jenny down and see if she was …' Her voice broke on a sob.

  'Would you happen to have anything else she may have written, which we can take for comparison?'

  The young woman rummaged through papers scattered over the kitchen table, which was in as much of a state of disorder as the rest of the flat.

  'Jenny drew up a rota about who should do the cleaning and the washing up,' she said, finding a rough timetable, scribbled on the back of a large envelope. 'We were always arguing about who should do what. As you can see, we argued so much it never got done, except when we had visitors.'

  She started to cry again as she handed it to Ted. He put it into another evidence bag and transferred both to his pocket.

  'We're possibly going to have to bring in more officers to do a thorough search of the premises in connection with what has happened,' Ted told her. 'Do you have somewhere you can go and stay tonight? You might, in any event, not want to remain in the flat on your own, in the circumstances.'

  'Definite suicide, boss?' Rob asked, on the way back in Ted's car.

  'Looking like a certainty, but we won't really know until the post-mortem. For now we'll carry on treating it as a suspicious death. By the way, your Sally's an RSPCA officer, isn't she? I wondered if you could possibly ask her who we need to talk to about this puppy smuggling angle for our attacker? I'm more interested in getting our man for the rapes, of course, but we should try to help mop up other offences arising out of our own investigation, if we can. As long as they don't take priority.'

  Rob was recently engaged. He had joked that his fiancée's work with animals made her hours every bit as anti-social as a copper's were. It should at least mean that their relationship shouldn't suffer the same fate as that of many others in the force, solely on the basis of his hours.