The Freeman Files Series Box Set

by Ted Tayler

  Gus stood and walked to one of the wallboards and began to list the main events as he saw them.

  “Laura left school in 2000. Two years at college and then she began work in a solicitor’s office. Laura left home to share a place with this, Maureen and Joanne that Sam Mallinder mentioned. According to Sam, they had boring jobs and partied hard at weekends. In 2006, Laura learned that the agency work she did paid peanuts compared to what she could earn as a masseuse. Who told her that, another girlfriend? Was she ever identified? That needs chasing. Laura had moved back in with her parents because she’d lost her job. The massage parlour work started at that point. She worked in parlours in Bristol and Bath. Laura moved into a new one-bedroomed flat in Kingswood in 2007. That suggests she earned good money over a reasonably long period. Tyrone said a chance sighting as she got off the Bath bus was the last time he saw Laura alive. The brothers work together. We can assume Gary was in the van with him that day. He told you yesterday it was two years, maybe three before she died that he last saw his sister. Kingswood was four years earlier; that’s interesting. Emma and Tyrone were newly engaged. Tyrone corrected himself when I asked the last time he’d seen Laura. At first, it was when he and Emma visited Sam and Jean one weekend. Laura lived with her parents for ten months. We should confirm that. We know that Laura moved to Swindon in the Spring of 2008 to run the new parlour. Tyrone and Emma got married in 2009. There’s one other date that’s missing.”

  “When did Laura tell her mother how she earned a living,” said Alex.

  “Exactly,” said Gus, “how long did Tyrone and Gary keep a lid on that secret?”

  “Who will you ask, guv?” asked Lydia.

  “All three of them,” said Neil, “to check we get the same answer.”

  “Oh, I would only ask Emma to begin with,” said Lydia, “if Gary’s not in the clear it wouldn’t be wise to alert him to the fact, surely? Or am I being naïve?”

  “Neil’s right,” said Gus, “we always try to substantiate what a witness says. The more confirmations, the merrier. Tyrone and Gary are close. We can’t discount them lying to provide one another with an alibi, no matter how they reacted to the questions we posed yesterday. Lydia could be on to something. Give Emma a ring at Cheddar Grove, Neil. Try her at around break time. She should be in the staff room. Keep it casual. You may need to shout. With luck, she won’t tell Tyrone you called the minute she gets home from school. Right, Alex, we’ll get moving now, shall we?”

  Maggie Monk had anticipated their arrival. As Gus approached the estate entrance, the gates opened at dead at ten o’clock.

  “Still no signs of which of these neighbouring properties are for sale, guv,” said Alex looking around him.

  “No building work being done at present either. Well, would you look at that? Mrs Monk already has the front door open. She’s eager to get us indoors before anyone puts two and two together.”

  “Don’t worry, guv. You might look like a copper, but my crutches will confuse them.”

  “Good morning,” said Gus, “a lovely day for it.”

  “Come on in,” said Maggie Monk, “I think I’ve got everything.”

  Gus noted the various sheets of paper on the hall table. Maggie was keen to get rid of her visitors as soon as possible. He had other thoughts on that subject.

  “We have further questions, Mrs Monk,” he said, “perhaps we could take a seat and run through them first?”

  “If we must.”

  They walked through to the same spot as on their previous visit.

  “You’re a widow, Mrs Monk, am I correct?” asked Gus.

  “Charles, my husband died some years ago.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Is this relevant?”

  “I believe so,” said Gus.

  “I was his secretary. Charles owned a successful precision tools engineering firm. I was in my early twenties. He was married and in his mid-forties. One morning five years after I’d started working there, he called me into his office and asked me to close the door. I thought he was a good boss, and we got on very well. I asked him what was wrong. Charles told me he’d been in love with me from the first day I’d started working for him. He couldn’t imagine life without me. He said he had left his wife, and after his divorce, he wanted us to marry. I had no idea. We had grown close, I suppose, as one does when one sees one another every day.”

  “Did you love him?” asked Gus.

  “I liked and respected him. Charles offered me the chance of expensive holidays, good clothes. A life I could never expect to match with someone my age. Expediency coloured my choice. It wasn’t romantic love; if that even exists. We had a good marriage. Charles was seventy when he died. The company was still thriving, so I sold up and began to build my investment portfolio. I enjoyed what I could do with the money. I could afford to buy this place outright. Even if it’s far too big for one person, it reminds me just how far I’ve come. I enjoy seeing the envy on people’s faces. The income from the properties is more than enough for me to continue to take those exotic holidays and buy whatever clothes I fancy. My decision to marry Charles might seem mercenary to you, Mr Freeman, but a girl has to live.”

  “Is that what influenced the business model you installed in the properties you purchased?” asked Gus.

  Maggie Monk looked at Alex and back to Gus.

  “Charles had needs. I’m sure you sympathise, even if you wouldn’t admit it. He wanted to be with a younger woman and sacrificed everything to be with me. That showed me the power I had as a woman. I kept him happy in the bedroom; he lavished money on me. He left me everything in his will. His first wife never saw a penny. After I’d bought a few properties and leased ground floor units to hairdressers, DIY shops and cafes, I thought why don’t I help more women with my windfall? I started with Cleopatra’s in Knowle. I employed several girls who did as I asked or they were out on their ear — no funny stuff. I took a basic massage fee from them per customer. They charged the men various options for a happy ending. Everyone went home happy.”

  “How did you meet Gem or Laura Mallinder?” asked Gus.

  “Gem was recommended to us by one of my girls, Amber. Her real name is somewhere on the list I’ve prepared for you. I believe they met at school.”

  “You told us you received a call regarding a courier delivery just before you left home that night. Can you be more specific about the time you received that call?”

  “No later than twenty-five past seven. The man told me the parcel would arrive in the next thirty minutes. I waited around for the whole time, then gave it up as a bad job. At around eight o’clock, I raced over to the parlour. I got there at twenty to nine.”

  “Excellent,” said Gus, “that makes sense now. Can we go through the items you’ve gathered for us now?”

  Maggie Monk picked up the sheets of paper in the hall and brought them through to where Gus sat.

  “As you can see, the list of people who had direct access to my landline was a short one. I don’t have many friends. The list of people who might have had indirect access is longer, but I can’t see why anyone would make a note of a number they had no reason to call. If I need a tradesperson, I call them. They don’t call on the off-chance you need a painter and decorator, do they?”

  “We’ll call them and ask them, Mrs Monk,” said Alex.

  “The additional sheets contain the staff at the parlours I owned at the time. Look at this one: Bristol, Knowle, Cleopatra’s, Amber. That’s the girl I told you about, Carol Gullis. She’s been with me since the beginning. As for where Laura worked, that was Swindon, Broadgreen, Gentle Touch and the girls there were Gem, Janina, Ebony, Kathy and Camille. All the details I have for them appear beside each name.”

  “This is comprehensive enough, I think,” said Gus, “I assume you’ve included the other sites because after the Broadgreen parlour closed, you gave the girls jobs elsewhere?”

  “The girls needed a job, Mr Freeman, and as we were still s
uccessful, I opened new premises in other towns.”

  “This last sheet includes the clients that Camille and Laura saw that evening, yes?”

  “These were Laura’s regulars that booked her on a Sunday. Camille had clients of her own. The four men I’ve listed were Walter Shadwell, Don Green, Ryan Black and Jeff Naylor. They were the only men Gem had booked. Jeff Naylor would have left her at about eight forty-five. Perhaps, a little earlier.”

  “Why don’t we have the names of the men who visited Camille?” asked Gus.

  “They never came into contact with Gem that night,” said Maggie Monk.

  “Maybe not, but they may have returned to the parlour. What if someone left something in the room where Camille entertained them? Something which had the potential to damage their marriage or their business reputation? Your girls held information about clients that could get used to blackmail them.”

  “I hope you’re not suggesting I was ever involved in anything illegal. I’ve run a clean business from the outset and did my utmost to protect the girls from exploitation. Apart from this one awful exception I’ve kept them safe from harm. Trust works both ways, Mr Freeman; I trust my girls will obey my rules. Our clients trust the girls will keep their liaisons secret. If a rumour like this got out, my business would collapse overnight.”

  “I still wish to interview the men who visited Camille. I want to discount the possibility that the person allowed into the parlour after Jeff Naylor left wasn’t one of those men. Why that man then killed Laura Mallinder, I don’t know, but I can’t ignore the possibility he was here earlier. You said they wouldn’t come into contact with Gem, but the parlour had a Reception area and stairs and passageways. Camille could escort a client from the front door to a room at the same time as Gem got herself a coffee. Or they could cross paths as she took a customer downstairs to see him off the premises.”

  “I suppose so,” sighed Maggie Monk. “During the week with five rooms in action, the footfall can be significant. It’s like Piccadilly Circus. It’s plausible that Gem recognised another girl’s client. If he returned for some reason, she might let him in.”

  “We’ll wait while you look for those names, Mrs Monk,” said Gus.

  Fifteen minutes later, Alex and Gus wished Maggie Monk a good morning and returned to the warmth of the car. The mood had turned decidedly chilly in the Monk household.

  “Do you reckon she was deliberately hiding something, guv?” asked Alex.

  “No, but I wanted to let her know who was in charge. Witnesses don’t get to decide which information they disclose. We decide. These names may be vital, or they may be a complete waste of time. Without them, I would always wonder whether there was someone we hadn’t checked out. I want to nail the killer. The more names I can confirm were close to Laura Mallinder on the evening of her death, the better.”

  “Well, we’ve got the parlour’s visitors now. If none of them was the killer, we’re still hunting for the identity of the caller that delayed Maggie Monk. As she said the other day, she may have spoken with the killer.”

  “We’ll get a clearer picture soon, Alex. We can start interviews now we have these lists. Who is most likely to know which of these clients might be capable of murder? The girls who worked alongside Laura will hold the answers, of that I’m certain.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Once they returned to the office, Alex and Gus made themselves a coffee.

  “The hospitality wasn’t great today at Castle Combe then, guv?” asked Neil.

  “I won’t be losing sleep over it, Neil,” said Gus.

  Lucky you, thought Neil. Melody’s irregular sleep patterns were taking their toll on him.

  It was turning into a long day.

  “Have you heard from your Dad, Neil?”

  “Not for ages, guv. We ought to let him know about the baby. It will be his first grandchild.”

  “I plan to call him this evening to get any inside knowledge Terry might have on our case. I won’t put my foot in it by congratulating him on the happy event. Thanks for the warning.”

  “Tell the old bugger you heard a whisper I’ll be ringing him at the weekend. We might as well get it out of the way. I doubt it will persuade him to fly home, though.”

  Terry Davis had several reasons for staying in Marbella. Some related to his enjoyment of the Spanish weather after a lifetime in the police force. Others were related to cases involving certain criminals where he had been negligent. Whether that less diligent approach was because of payments received was still up for debate.

  “Alex and I will update the Freeman Files while the interview with Maggie Monk is fresh in our minds. You two can read through what we learned later. Alex will compile a list of interviews we’ll share between us. Lydia, you will sit in with me on the ones involving the clients. The boys will interview the girls.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow. Her reaction prompted Gus to explain his reasoning.

  “Alex and Neil will need to travel to various properties across Wiltshire, Somerset and Gloucestershire. As far as possible, we’ll talk to the girls in their working environment. A thirty-minute session should be enough to learn what we want. We’ll invite the male interviewees here to this office. I don’t want them to feel too uncomfortable. If we go stomping into their homes asking what they did with their spare time, it could cause ructions. I don’t know how many are married. Or whether any of them is in the public eye. This case review isn’t about ruining marriages or reputations. We’re seeking a single truth. Who killed Laura Mallinder?”

  “I hope none of them will expect a happy ending to their interview, guv,” said Lydia.

  After lunch, Alex handed a list of names and contact numbers to Neil and Lydia.

  “I’ve split our interviewees between the three of us. Maggie Monk had a mobile number for each of the girls we were interested in, so you’ll be speaking to them directly. These aren’t the parlour numbers. If they don’t reply, remind them in your message that we know their real names, where they work and where they live. We will collect them from home and take them to a custody suite for an interview under caution, if necessary. This interview is not optional.”

  Gus looked up. Alex was on the money. The signs of strain he’d displayed when he emerged from the lift on that first morning were disappearing. He’d been correct in his assessment of the man — a trustworthy partner to have alongside a Detective Inspector. Fingers crossed his health didn’t impede his progress. Everything crossed that Geoff Mercer didn’t realise he was a great asset and transfer him.

  “I’m calling the male customers,” Gus said, for Neil and Lydia’s benefit. “I’ll be telling them the same thing. They can choose a discreet chat in the comfort of a well-appointed office or be dragged out of their armchair and taken to a police car. When most of their neighbours will be at home.”

  “If the girls try to avoid us, will you send uniformed officers to remove them from the parlours, guv?” asked Lydia. “If not, doesn’t that look as if we’re approving what goes on in these places?”

  “Maggie Monk’s girls aren’t breaking the law, Lydia. She’s not running a brothel. When I referred to the approach we were taking with the customers just now, I said we didn’t wish to ruin reputations. In Maggie’s case, we’re not looking to ruin her business. It’s not for us to judge the rights and wrongs of the services she offers. We merely enforce the laws this country has in place.”

  The team spent the rest of the afternoon chasing dates and times when the various people were available. The schedule in the Freeman File soon filled with appointments. When the team left the office at five o’clock, they were waiting for only three call-backs.

  “None of Laura’s four regulars had any objection to travelling across the county, guv,” said Neil as they descended in the lift to the car park. “Did you consider using interview rooms at Gablecross?”

  “Because it’s on their doorstep did you mean, Neil? No, I want to avoid Hickerton and Latimer learning we ar
e digging deeper into a case that they mismanaged. Try to get to sleep tonight, Neil. Your head was dropping this afternoon.”

  “Sorry, guv. It was warm in the office. You’re off tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “I won’t be in first thing. The security camera firm will be at the bungalow for nine o’clock. I’ll get into the office for the afternoon interviews, never fear.”

  As he drove home, Gus remembered that he hadn’t asked whether Neil and Lydia had uncovered Ian Hewson’s whereabouts in Bradley Stoke. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him despite the size of the place. The first houses in Bradley Stoke, six miles northeast of Bristol, were built in 1987. The site now had thirty thousand residents.

  The town council had worked hard to establish a community spirit. It was still a young town with a lot of young people and families. It takes time to develop a community spirit - it doesn’t happen overnight. Gus knew that first-hand from the village a few miles ahead of him. The spirit there had developed over centuries.

  Gus hoped they could lift Ian Hewson out of the rabbit warren of houses and sit him in a quiet room somewhere for a face-to-face chat very soon.

  Once inside the bungalow, Gus prepared his evening meal. He looked at the scene from his kitchen window. How long had it been since he tidied the garden? He had spent most of his spare time on his allotment. The lawns and borders that Tess had been so proud of looked uncared for and drab. He couldn’t transform it overnight, but two hours of remedial action could prevent its terminal decline.

  It was nine o’clock when he sat in the lounge with a well-earned cold beer. Even the climbing roses Tess had cherished looked happier with life. Gus was more content too. The physical benefits of manual labour were secondary to the freedom it provided for clear thinking. There was no background noise of chatter, phones ringing or office equipment humming away to disturb his thoughts.