Storm Force: A chilling Norfolk Broads crime thriller (British Detective Tanner Murder Mystery Series Book 7)

by David Blake

  ‘Have you been able to get through to him?’

  ‘Still no answer. How’s Forrester doing?’

  ‘Hasn’t he called you?’

  ‘Not that I know,’ Tanner replied, pulling his phone away from his ear to stare momentarily at the screen. ‘Was he supposed to?’

  ‘He came over about two minutes ago, asking if I knew where you were.’

  ‘And…what did you say?’

  ‘What you told me to – that you’re still at forensics, helping to find that missing report. That’s when he said he was going to call you.’

  ‘OK, he’s probably trying to get through now. I’d better give him a call – see if I can beat him to it. Let me know when that warrant comes through.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

  THE MOMENT HE ended the call, his phone rang in his hand. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was.

  ‘Tanner, it’s Forrester.’

  ‘I was just this second about to call you, sir.’

  ‘Does that mean you have some good news for me?’

  ‘Not regarding the missing forensics report, I’m afraid; at least, not yet.’

  ‘You do know that we only have two hours before McMillan walks out the door?’

  Tanner glanced down at the Jag’s analogue clock, mounted onto its somewhat dated heavily varnished dashboard. ‘I’m aware of that, thank you, but unfortunately I’m not sure what else I can do.’

  ‘So…why were you about to call me?’

  ‘Something else has come up that I think needs to take priority.’

  ‘Over charging a suspect for multiple murder?’

  ‘In order to stop someone else from being, sir.’

  Tanner’s statement was initially met by silence.

  ‘OK, you have my attention.’

  ‘George Chapman has been lying to us about the whereabouts of his daughter, Alice.’

  ‘You mean, the girl who said she saw a body being thrown over the side of a boat?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘What the hell has that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I think they’re the ones who’ve been writing those blackmail letters.’

  ‘Wasn’t it the father who came into the station, telling us what his daughter had seen?’

  ‘Well, yes, it was, but…’

  ‘Isn’t that rather an odd sort of thing for him to have done, if they were endeavouring to convince Sir Michael and his friends that they knew about some heinous crime they’d committed, one that nobody else was supposed to?’

  ‘I can only assume they must have had some other motive for doing so. Perhaps it was because nobody was coughing up the cash they were demanding, so they decided to apply some additional pressure by providing us with some clues as to what they’d been up to.’

  ‘Either way,’ Forrester continued, ‘what I’d really like to know is why you think a case of attempted blackmail should take priority over a multiple murder investigation?’

  ‘Because of the blackmail method they’ve been using, and what I believe Sanders has been up to since.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tanner, but you’re going to have to explain yourself.’

  ‘I think they’ve been endeavouring to make Sir Michael, Wallace and Sanders believe that the girl they threw over the side of their boat survived, and that she’s the one who’s been attempting to blackmail them.’

  ‘What on Earth would make you think that?’

  ‘It’s the wording used on the letter found at Wallace’s house. “Leave fifty thousand at the base of Happisburgh Lighthouse by midnight tonight, or else I’ll be doing unto you as you so kindly thought you’d done unto me.” It’s in the first person. And in an attempt to further convince them, I think the father has been using his daughter effectively as bait – sending her out to parade herself in front of them. Vicky and I saw a girl today, just after we’d finished speaking to Sanders. She walked straight past his boat. I swear it was Alice.’

  ‘This is all well and good, Tanner, but I still don’t see why you’re making such a fuss. It’s still just blackmail, and by all accounts, a failed one at that.’

  ‘Not if Sanders ends up being the one who’s been killing all those women, and his motivation for having done so.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Because he’s become so convinced by the Chapmans’ blackmail attempt – that the woman they threw over the side of the boat did somehow survive – he’s come to the conclusion that it must have been her who murdered Sir Michael and Wallace, and that he’s next. If that’s true, and he now thinks Chapman’s daughter is the girl he’d previously thought was lying at the bottom of the North Sea, then I think she’s in real danger.’

  Tanner heard a distant knock on a door from the other end of the line, followed by the muffled voice of a woman.

  ‘Hold on a sec, Tanner, Vicky’s at the door.’

  Trying to overhear what was being said, Tanner waited patiently for his DCI to come back over the line.

  ‘Sorry about that. The search warrant for Iain Sanders’ boat has just come through. I’ve told her to see if she can dig up any forensics officers to head straight over there. I assume that’s OK with you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘As for Chapman’s daughter. If you’re right, then we need to find her. When was the last time you spoke to her father?’

  ‘Not since he called me earlier to try and arrange a time for us to speak to her. He said she was still at school.’

  ‘How do we know that she isn’t?’

  ‘It was on the news - that the schools have closed.’

  ‘What, all of them? Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m currently parked directly outside their school’s gates, having just been speaking to the caretaker about it.’

  There was a momentary pause from the other end of the line. ‘I thought you were at forensics, helping to find that missing report?’

  ‘Well, I – er – was, sir, but they said I was being more of a hindrance than actually helping, so I thought I’d come down here instead.’

  Tanner could almost hear Forrester shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘So, what do you intend to do now?’ the DCI eventually asked.

  Tanner cleared his throat. ‘I thought I’d head over to Chapman’s house. Hopefully, that’s where his daughter is.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to phone him up to ask?’

  ‘He’s not picking up. He must think we’re onto him about his attempted blackmail endeavour, without having a single idea as to the danger his actions have placed his daughter in.’

  ‘OK, then I suppose you’d better get over there. Meanwhile, I’ll get the word out that she needs to be found. Do we have her picture?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  ‘Then I’ll ask Sally to start trawling through the social media sites. Hopefully she’ll be able to find something.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT

  ARRIVING AT THE entrance to the lane that led up to Happisburgh Lighthouse, Tanner took a moment to watch its giant sweeping beam push back against an amassing army of billowing black clouds.

  Turning in, he proceeded up the single-track road, one eye on the glistening tarmac ahead, the other on the line of telegraph poles to his left, the wires stretched between each rattling like the final death-throes of a dying snake.

  Once in the carpark he tried opening his door, only to find the wind was blowing so hard against its side, it took all his strength to force it open. For the first time since the storm had started a prickle of fear pinched at the corners of his mind. Two years at sea had given him a taste of just how terrifying the wind could be, leaving him with a sense of humble respect for such an overwhelmingly powerful force.

  As a particularly savage gust tore its way underneath the car, momentarily lifting up its vast steel structure before leaving it rocking back on its suspension, he stepped out into a maelstrom of turbulent wind and razor sharp rain
to begin staggering over to the gap in the hedge, beyond which Chapman’s cottage lay. Pushed along by the sheer force of the wind, he fell against the cottage door, ringing the bell before hammering on it with his fist. Hearing nothing but the howling gale and the distant sound of giant waves crashing against the nearby cliffs, he was about to hammer again when the door suddenly swung inwards.

  ‘Mr Chapman,’ he said, pulling himself up. ‘DI Tanner.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Chapman demanded, glaring out.

  ‘I’m looking for your daughter. Is she here?’

  ‘I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t come until nine?’

  ‘Is she here?’ Tanner repeated, his voice cracking with immediacy.

  Chapman first opened, then closed his mouth, his eyes darting between Tanner’s as if searching his mind for what to say in response.

  ‘Why did you lie when you phoned me this morning?’ Tanner continued, unable to wait for whatever it was that he was going to come out with.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘You told me your daughter was at school.’

  ‘Yes, and…?’

  ‘I’ve just come from there. It was closed.’

  ‘I know. They all are.’

  ‘Then how could she have been there?’

  ‘It was open this morning. I only heard about it closing after I’d spoken to you.’

  Tanner narrowed his eyes. ‘OK, so, where is she?’

  ‘In bed. Sick I’m afraid. She came back soaking wet. She must have caught a cold. I was about to call to postpone our meeting to another day.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘I’m sorry, inspector, but as I said, she’s in bed, hopefully asleep. I don’t care who you are, there’s no way I’m going to allow you inside her bedroom.’

  Tanner watched him take a firm hold of the edge of the door before returning his attention to his face. ‘What time did she get home?’

  ‘Sometime after I called you.’

  ‘You know, that’s funny.’

  ‘What’s funny?’

  ‘At around half-past-three this afternoon I saw a girl bearing a striking resemblance to your daughter, walking down by Acle dyke.’

  Chapman’s eyes recommenced their erratic dance.

  ‘The question is,’ Tanner continued, ‘what was she doing all the way over there, if she was supposed to have been making her way back from school at the time?’

  ‘Isn’t the answer to that rather obvious?’

  ‘Not to me it isn’t.’

  ‘You must have mistaken her for someone else. As I said, she came home and went straight to bed.’

  ‘Unfortunately, Mr Chapman, I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Frankly, I don’t care if you do or not.’

  ‘That’s fine, but I’m still going to need to speak to her.’

  ‘I’m not waking her up to bring her to the door, just to prove to you that I’m telling the truth.’

  Tanner shook his head with mounting frustration. ‘Mr Chapman, I don’t think you have the slightest idea just how much danger your daughter is in.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I assume you’ve heard of a man by the name of Iain Sanders?’

  ‘Why should I have?’

  ‘How about Sir Michael Blackwell?’

  Chapman stopped for a moment; his eyes fixed on Tanner’s. ‘Only what I’ve heard about on the news.’

  ‘And Mr Toby Wallace?’

  ‘Same thing.’

  ‘I suppose that means you didn’t know that they all owned a boat together; a fifty foot Fairline Squadron by the name of Medusa?’

  ‘What’s any of this got to do with either myself or my daughter?’

  ‘Because, Mr Chapman, their boat bears a striking resemblance to the one you said your daughter saw through her telescope.’

  ‘Then why are you here pestering me about it? Shouldn’t you be out there, arresting them?’

  ‘Well, I would have done, of course, had it not been for the fact that two of them are dead.’

  ‘I still don’t understand. Are you suggesting we killed them?’

  ‘I’m thinking more along the lines that you’ve been trying to blackmail them.’

  ‘Right, yes, of course. And that’s why I drove all the way to your police station to tell you what she’d seen. I thought the whole idea of blackmail was that nobody knew what the culprits had done, only the person doing the blackmailing.’

  ‘Unless you felt that the people you were trying to coerce large sums of money out of weren’t taking you seriously enough, possibly because they were certain that nobody had a clue what they’d done, apart from you and your daughter. So you thought you’d pop down to help steer us in the right direction. Even then, they probably thought you wouldn’t have been able to prove it, as the body they’d dumped over the side of the boat would have been lying somewhere at the bottom of the North Sea, being feasted upon by about a billion hungry fish. But I think you must have realised that, which was why you decided to write the blackmail letters as if they’d been written by the victim herself, making the three men you’d seen think that she’d somehow survived her horrific ordeal.’

  ‘This is ridiculous!’

  ‘When that didn’t work,’ Tanner continued, ‘I think you began sending your daughter out, pretending to be her, in a last ditch attempt to help persuade them. But what you could never have known was just how effective your strategy had been, leading one of them to believe that not only had the girl survived, but when Sir Michael and Mr Wallace turned up dead, he thought she must have decided that money on its own wasn’t going to be enough.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but even if we had decided to blackmail them, which we haven’t, obviously, I still don’t see what any of this has to do with us?’

  ‘Because I believe that the last remaining boat’s owner has become so convinced that the girl he thought they’d left for dead is killing them off, one by one, he’s decided to take matters into his own hands.’

  ‘I still haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re going on about.’

  ‘No less than three women have been found dead in the past forty-eight hours, Mr Chapman. If that was your daughter beside Acle Dyke this morning, and if Sanders saw her face…’

  Chapman’s skin drained of all colour.

  ‘Where’s your daughter, Mr Chapman?’

  ‘I – I…’ the man spluttered, his eyes becoming as wide as discs. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘She’s not in bed?’

  Chapman shook his head.