by L M Krier
She patted his hand awkwardly. 'All perfectly normal, I assure you. Now, let's get you to A&E and onto some pills as the first step. Do you want to change first?'
Ted was impressed with the way Bizzie had him whisked into a cubicle in record time when they got to the hospital. When a young registrar came in to see him, the Professor was at her most formidable.
'I'm Elizabeth Nelson, Professor of Forensic Pathology, practising from this hospital, and this is my very good friend, Detective Inspector Darling. I've brought him here in a proactive role. As you will see, when you check his heart rate and blood pressure, if you don't do something with him now, I will be seeing him in my drawers downstairs,' she said, with a wicked twinkle in her eye.
'I know this should be a GP matter but he can't get an appointment within a sensible time-frame, so I've brought him here because I don't want to have to carry out a post-mortem examination on him just yet. He's under considerable stress at work at present.'
Ted opened his mouth to protest but it was as much use as trying to use a stinger to stop a steamroller. When the registrar finally managed to get a word in edgeways, he said, 'Perhaps you would wait outside, Professor, while I examine the inspector?'
'I'm the senior pathologist for this area. I can assure you, there is nothing at all of the male anatomy which I have not seen, many times over. But to spare your blushes, Edwin, I will wait for you outside. Take good care of him, Doctor,' she said as she swept out.
Once again, Ted submitted meekly to having his heart and blood pressure checked and tried to answer as honestly as he could the questions the registrar put to him. He admitted to feelings of anxiety, of not being in control of situations. But he went on to point out what his job was like and why the current case was proving particularly hard for him.
He was finally allowed out, armed with a prescription and advice to take things as easily as his job permitted, to see his own GP as soon as possible and to restart counselling sessions as soon as he could.
He found Bizzie in the waiting area, and the two of them headed in search of the car, pausing to pick up his pills from the hospital dispensary on the way.
'I'm sorry to inconvenience you still further, Bizzie, but could we possibly stop somewhere on the way back? I'd like to get something really nice so I can make Trev a special supper, by way of an apology. And could you possibly help me to select a good bottle of wine? It's not something I know much about, and I want it to be something out of the ordinary.
'I really need to make things up to him. I know I frightened him yesterday, so I'd like to do something nice for him. You're very welcome to join us, if you would like to. It's the least I can do, by way of a thank you for your kindness. And I've been so self-absorbed I haven't even asked how your mother is.'
'Mummy's fine, thank you, unstoppable. I've arranged to have carers going in several times a day, but doubtless she will scare them all away, as she usually does. And you have no need to thank me. It's what friends are for, and I consider you and Trevor to be good friends. I will never forget your kindness in including me for Christmas lunch. That meant a great deal to me.
'And as for joining you this evening, don't be ridiculous. You certainly do have a lot of making up to do with Trevor, and you definitely don't need me in the way of that.'
Chapter Twenty-four
'Have you had your morning pills? And have you got the others with you to take at lunchtime?'
For the second day running, Trev was awake at the same time as Ted and fussing over his proposed return to work.
'Yes, and yes,' Ted assured him, his turn to be bringing morning tea up to his partner in bed. 'And I've washed behind my ears and got a clean hanky.' He leaned over to kiss him and added, 'I will be all right, honestly. Now my heart has stopped going like a trip hammer, I feel a bit more rational.'
Ted had half an hour at his desk to make a start on the accumulated paperwork, before the rest of the team arrived. He began by catching up on missed phone calls and emails. There were several logged calls from the local reporter. He would need to give him a ring at some point, to find out what he wanted.
Mike Hallam was the first of the team to arrive. Seeing the boss back in his office, he went in, after a peremptory knock at the door.
'Morning, boss. How are you feeling? Not another dodgy ham roll?'
'Just one of those twenty-four hour bugs, I think, Mike. I'm fine now, itching to get back to the case. Any further developments?'
'Sal's got a few things for us. He told me last thing yesterday so we've not updated the board yet. I thought it would keep for this morning's briefing. We've got the sniff of a lead, at least.'
The rest of the team were just coming in. Steve was there, but so far there was no sign of Maurice. Ted knew they always arrived together, sharing Maurice's car, now that Steve was lodging at his house.
'Where's Maurice?' Ted asked, but at that moment DC Brown walked through the door, or rather he limped painfully through it.
'Takes me a while to get up the stairs at the moment, boss,' he growled. 'I've got bloody sore feet, with blisters all over them.'
Mike Hallam laughed, 'Yeah, and he won't tell the rest of us how he got them, boss, although there have been a few colourful suggestions.'
Ted felt a pang of guilt, realising it was no doubt from Maurice's unaccustomed climb on the Dark Peak, in totally unsuitable footwear.
'I'll buy you a pint at dinnertime, Maurice, help ease your pain,' he promised. He would have said lunchtime in Trev's company, but to Maurice, the midday meal would always be dinner. 'Okay, so, fill me in, what have we got? And Jezza, you're not listening to any of this, right?'
'Doing my knitting and painting my nails, boss,' she assured him.
'Boss, yesterday I went round to see the dog dealer, the one who arranged the sale of that puppy to the couple who met Mr Shape-Form-or-Way. I don't know much about keeping dogs, but to me, the place looked like a shitheap, pardon the expression. I've already spoken to Rob's fiancée and she's arranged for the RSPCA to go round there with some police back-up, and someone from Environmental Health, at some point. In light of what I found out, they're waiting for a green light from us.
'It's a woman who runs the place and she was very cagey, on the defensive, and didn't really want to tell me anything at all. It's clear she thought it was something to do with the puppy being sick and having false papers. When I finally managed to convince her none of that was within my remit and I was only interested in the delivery driver, she eventually agreed to give me some information.
'She says that all she knows about him is that he's called Danny and he drives a white Sprinter. He does runs over to the continent and to Ireland and will pick up and deliver anything and everything, no questions asked.
'She always pays him cash in hand, so she has no other details, not an address or surname, no National Insurance number, of course, and just a mobile number to contact him when she needs him. I tried it. It goes straight to voicemail. The message just says, “This is Danny. Leave your name and number and I'll call you back.” I didn't leave any message.'
'I should listen to his voice,' Jezza said. 'There's a chance I might recognise it.'
'You're not even supposed to be listening to this briefing, Jezza,' Ted told her sternly.
'Oh, come on, boss,' she protested. 'At some point you're going to have to get all the victims to listen to it to get an ID. I'm here. I've got a good ear for voices. I could do it right now for you. I could at least rule him out if it's not the right voice, save you a load of work.'
Ted hesitated, but he knew she was right. If Jezza said categorically that the voice was not their man, they would still need to double check it with the others, but it would save endless time if they weren't looking for a man who turned out to be nothing more than a van driver working on the black.
'Sal,' Ted said to him. Sal got out his mobile, dialled the number and handed his phone to Jezza, who listened intently. They could all see b
y how pale she went that she recognised the voice. She nodded in confirmation.
'That's him. That's the man who attacked me.'
Maurice looked across at her, his expression concerned. 'You all right, bonny lass?'
She nodded wordlessly and went back to looking at the paperwork on her desk.
'Right, I need to let Pocket Billiards know we believe our man is called Danny, see if he can update his piece on the website, then in the paper when it comes out. See if that brings us any more leads. Have we had any more phone calls, just on the turn of phrase?'
'There was one man yesterday who was insistent he would only speak to you, boss,' Rob told him. 'I tried my best to persuade him, said you were off sick and I didn't know how long for, but he wouldn't talk to me. He said, and I quote, that he wanted the organ grinder and not the monkey.
'I did get him to leave a number, though, so you could call him when you were back. He wouldn't give me a name. He sounded nervous, but he said he definitely knows someone who uses that turn of phrase, frequently.'
Ted knew he needed to go and talk to the Ice Queen soon, to let her know he was back and that he would be leaving early for his doctor's appointment. He decided to follow up the phone call and speak to the local reporter first, then he might have a bit more to tell her.
'Ted! I was trying all day yesterday to get hold of you,' Pocket Billiards told him as soon as he answered Ted's call. 'What more can you tell me about Jenny Holden topping herself?'
Ted winced at his insensitivity, but tried to keep his tone neutral. 'Sorry about that, Alastair, I was off sick. And you know I can't possibly give you that sort of information. You'll get more from the coroner's office than I could give you. But you'll have to wait for the inquest to know exactly what happened.'
He continued, to cut across the reporter's grumbling, 'I have another snippet for you about our attacker, though, which I'm hoping you can put out there for us. It might lead to a breakthrough. I'm giving it to you exclusively again, and I won't forget your help with this.'
Once he had secured a grudging agreement, he next called the number Rob had given him. His call was answered with a brusque and somewhat suspicious, 'Hello?'
'This is Detective Inspector Darling. I believe you called in because you may have information about a man we're urgently trying to find.'
'Danny Boy,' came the reply. Ted's ears pricked up. This sounded hopeful.
'What can you tell me about him?'
'He's a fucking nutter, for starters.'
'Can you be more specific?'
'They call him Danny Boy because he's from Derry. I'm not sure if Danny is his real name. He told me his second name was Quigley, but I was never sure what to believe, with him. I met him in a lay-by one time. We were both driving deliveries. I tried to start up a conversation. When you're on the road a lot, it gets lonely, it's nice to chat. But he's not easy to get talking to. He barely said two words the first time.
'We bumped into one another a few more times, though, and he gradually started to speak. I saw he had a Paras tattoo. I'm ex-Gunners, so that broke the ice a bit. We found we'd both been to Helmand Province.
'Look, if I tell you everything I know about him, I want to know there's no way it can get back to him. That it was me who said anything, I mean. He doesn't mess about.'
'Has he ever threatened you?' Ted asked.
The man snorted. 'There are different ways of threatening. The first time we exchanged more than a couple of words, he said he was just having a bite to eat, did I want to join him. He was sat in the back of the Sprinter, with the doors open. He had, like, some bread, cheese, stuff like that, spread out. I sat down, he cut me a lump of bread, and passed it to me on the end of his knife. He left the knife pointing at me a long while, even after I took the bread. I got the message.'
'Can you describe the knife?'
'Fairbairn-Sykes Commando, seven-inch black blade.'
'Does he live locally?'
'He mostly lives out of the back of his van. He told me he was born in Derry but that his family had to leave pretty sharpish at the height of the troubles, although he didn't say why, and I didn't press him. He's not the sort you make small talk with. Sometimes he told me stuff, not always. They came to Stockport and I think it's where he calls home, if he has one.'
Ted was making notes on his pad as the man was speaking. It confirmed his suspicions that this man was dangerous, certainly combat trained. If he'd been in the Parachute Regiment, he could well have seen service in some harsh places.
'What else do you know about his military service?'
'He told me he tried out for the SAS but was rejected after initial training as being too unstable and I can believe that. He's a scary bastard. All the more so because he just looks ordinary, like any other bloke, until you get up close.'
'Why do you think he's unstable?'
'I know blokes like to brag a bit sometimes. You know, women they've shagged, times they've got totally pissed, that sort of stuff.' Ted didn't actually know, as they were not things he did or would talk about even if they were. 'He liked to talk a lot about shagging women, and he liked to give the impression it wasn't always when they were up for it, if you know what I mean. He made a thing about preferring it when they put up a bit of a fight.'
'And do you know anything about the deliveries he does? What he transports, where he goes, anything like that?'
'Look, mate, I need to know this isn't going to get back to Danny Boy. I'm trying to earn a living with a bit of driving. I'm not saying it's all totally on the level, like, I don't always declare every hour I work, you know what I'm saying? But the shit Danny Boy gets up to? I'm not into any of that kind of stuff. That's why I'm telling you. Someone needs to stop him, the mad bastard.'
Ted didn't waste his time asking for the man's name. He knew he wasn't going to get it and he wasn't all that bothered. He didn't want to frighten the man off by insisting. It was Danny he was after.
'I can assure you that what you tell me is in confidence. If and when we apprehend Danny Boy, your involvement won't be mentioned to him.'
There was a pause then, 'Fair enough, mate. Danny will shift anything, but one thing he does a lot of is bringing in puppies, and fighting dogs. The pups come in from Europe. He said there's not much of a check at the ports at weekends, so he does it then. You can bring in five pups for each person in the van, he told me. So he picks up two illegals, on false papers, near to Calais somewhere. Then he can bring in fifteen puppies at a time. The illegals pay, the dog people pay, it's a nice little earner for Danny. And he told me he always tries to get the women illegals. I don't need to spell out for you why. He told me in a lot of graphic detail, and I really didn't need to know. Like I said, he's sick.
'One time, he had some puppies in the back of the van when we were talking. Funny little buggers. I don't know what you call them. The sort some woman sticks ribbons on and carries round in a handbag. One of them just kept skriking all the time, wouldn't shut up. Danny took it out of the cage and chucked it against the side of the van. Killed the little bleeder stone dead. I started avoiding him after that, the sick shit. It meant nothing to him. You could see in his eyes. They were just blank, like he was dead behind them. That's the part of him that looks scary. His eyes.'
Ted went over with him full details of description, known whereabouts and anything else the anonymous man could tell him. Then he thanked him and rang off, feeling equally as sick. It confirmed some of his worst fears about the man they were dealing with. He went back out into the main office.
'Finally, a possible ID. Daniel Quigley. Ex-Paras. Born in Derry, grew up here in Stockport. Drives a Sprinter, or did do. He may be driving something else by now, if it was his van which was burnt out. Shifts anything that needs delivering, particularly dogs and illegal immigrants.
'Mike, Army records, anything and everything they have on anyone with that name or a similar one. Ex-Paras. I want it with or without a warrant for it, their
choice, but I want it yesterday. The rest of you, I'll draw up a list of places he's been known to appear and I want every one of them checked out. I'm going to talk to the Super and to Inspector Turner to suggest we make this a joint operation with Uniform, throw everything we have at finding him.
'Meantime, everyone, get on to your contacts, find out if anyone knows a Danny or Daniel Quigley. What our contact told me matches almost exactly what the victims have said for height, age, build, eyes. Especially the eyes. Apparently he has a Para tattoo on his right forearm. That's wings and a parachute, for those who don't know.
'Steve, full PNC check. Try all the spelling variations you can think of for Quigley until we get something definite from the military. Rob, if that was his Sprinter van which went up in flames, we need to know what he's driving now, so find out any van thefts on our patch or close by in the time since we found the Sprinter.
'Remember that this man is likely to be highly trained and dangerous. Don't anyone even think of approaching him alone. Jezza, you're not in on any of this, you pick up everything else that needs covering in the meantime.'
'Ah, Inspector, nice to see you back,' the Ice Queen greeted Ted when he went in and sat down as instructed. 'Are you better?'
'Considerably, ma'am, but I need to leave slightly early today for a doctor's appointment. Nothing serious, I just need a few pills to sort me out. But I will be restarting counselling sessions.'
Ted filled her in on the latest update on the case while she served coffee.
'I hope the case is not getting on top of you?' she asked. 'It's essential that you let me know if you need to take time off.'
Ted shook his head determinedly. 'It's fine now. I had a bit of a wobble. Now I'm back on track. We've got a name and a lot more information than we had before. I finally feel we're close to getting him in our sights. Once we nail him, then I might ask you for a bit of time off.'
'It's both one of your best and worst qualities that you take your cases so intensely personally,' she told him once again. 'Learning to stay detached is one of the hardest parts of our job, and it risks changing the person you are. Take all the help that's available to you, so that this case doesn't break you.'
