The Freeman Files Series Box Set

by Ted Tayler

  “Is everything ready for our guests?” he asked as he exited the lift.

  “Lydia popped out to get a tin of biscuits,” said Alex.

  “I told her boxes of tissues might make them more at home, guv,” said Neil.

  “Ignore him, guv, we’ve found an address for Ian Hewson,” said Lydia.

  “Happy days,” said Gus.

  “He doesn’t live there now, though,” she added, “Hewson appears to drift from house to house. Neil’s chasing his registration as a player. When we know who he plays for, it will be simple to pick him up on a Saturday afternoon.”

  “The season’s almost over,” Neil warned, “with the World Cup starting soon. We’ll need to move fast, or he’ll be off to one of the hotspots the football crowd favour.”

  “Concentrate on finding Hewson,” said Gus, “and bugger the biscuits.”

  “How did the security camera installation go, guv?” asked Neil.

  “It went, Neil. My cameras now in full working order. Why it cost so much escapes me. Please ring your Dad this weekend. Alex, have you made allowances for Monday being a Bank Holiday?”

  “It wasn’t necessary, guv. Laura and Camille’s regulars are either here for interviews this afternoon or on Tuesday morning. All the girls we confirmed times with were working on Sunday or Monday; whether it was a Bank Holiday or not. We haven’t had a call back from those outstanding from yesterday. I’ll chase those this afternoon.”

  “Keep on top of it, Alex,” said Gus, “Neil, can you see if our first guest is outside?”

  “No sign of him on the CCTV, guv. He might find it difficult to park. It can be busy at this time of day.”

  “Get it sorted, Neil. We need to make headway in this case,” said Gus.

  Neil returned a few minutes later with a swarthy-looking individual who looked to have just finished a shift on a building site.

  So, this was Ryan Black.

  CHAPTER 10

  Neil led their first guest to a chair in front of Gus’s desk.

  “Come on in, Mr Black,” said Gus, “take a seat. You know why I asked you to come here this afternoon. You were the first customer to be seen by Gem at Gentle Touch on the night she was murdered.”

  Ryan Black was nervous. He knew three people sat behind him, listening to every word he said. Lydia thought if this were an example of Gus not making the men too uncomfortable, she would hate to be in his bad books.

  “Yeah, I visited Gem twice a week, sometimes three; my back plays me up something chronic in cold weather. I’m a bricklayer by trade; Gem kept me in work, earning money. I got there just after six and left after thirty minutes.”

  “Did the police ask you about the parlour after the murder?” asked Gus.

  Ryan Black shook his head.

  “I didn’t kill her,” he said, “Gem was okay. I would never have harmed her.”

  “Did you see anyone else inside the parlour, or as you left?”

  “No, Gem walked to the door with me and said she’d see me in the week. That was the last time I saw her. It was a terrible shock when I heard what had happened.”

  “You didn’t hear any rumours of a client getting too attached to her, or someone she had argued with in the past?”

  “Nothing like that. I didn’t go there to socialise. I haven’t spoken more than a dozen words to another customer in the last ten years.”

  “How’s your back?”

  “I still get days when I can hardly get out of bed. I use Cleopatra’s now, over by the Designer Outlet site. A girl called Ebony fixes my problems.”

  “You’re single?” asked Gus.

  “No, married with two kids. A boy and a girl. Why?”

  “Do you ever mention where you’re going to your wife?”

  “Are you serious? My wife thinks I visit a chiropractor. She won’t need to hear about this, will she? We hadn’t got married seven years ago, anyway.”

  Gus shook his head.

  “Can I get back to work?” asked Ryan Black.

  “Yes,” said Gus.

  The bricklayer eased himself up from the chair and walked towards the lift.

  Ryan turned as he reached the door.

  “Is that it then?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Gus, “we won’t need to speak to you again.”

  A relieved Ryan Black took the lift to the car park.

  “Are we sure about him, guv?” asked Alex.

  “Check whether his firm ever worked on Maggie Monk’s place. Either the original build or on the running repairs. If not, we can discard him.”

  “Someone is coming up in the lift, guv,” said Lydia, “he must have arrived just as Black was leaving.”

  “Remind me. Who do we have on the list now?” asked Gus.

  “Derek Gosling. Fifty-five-year-old lawyer. Divorced. The last client to visit Camille,” said Alex.

  Gus met the lawyer at the lift door and invited him to take a seat. Derek Gosling looked petrified. Gus went through the same rigmarole as for Ryan Black and tried to get their visitor to relax.

  This is painful to watch, thought Neil. This bloke was a wet lettuce, not someone who could carry out a vicious stabbing. The only thing he might have that could help their investigation was a sighting of a person they hadn’t yet identified. He had left the parlour at around eight o’clock.

  “Do you live alone, Mr Gosling?” asked Gus.

  “Since Mother died, yes, I’ve been on my own.”

  “How long had you been visiting Gentle Touch?”

  “I first went there not long after it opened. It was convenient, only two streets across from my office. Camille was the first girl I saw, and I decided not to book anyone else.”

  “Were you aware that wasn’t her real name?”

  “She didn’t tell me what it was, but it wouldn’t be high on the list for Thai families.”

  “Take me through that Sunday evening. What time did you arrive?”

  “My appointment was for half-past seven. I arrived five minutes late. Camille let me in. I paid her the basic fee in Reception, and we went to our room.”

  “You’re very nervous, Mr Gosling? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  “No, not at all. It is very embarrassing. After the massage, Camille asked if I wanted the usual. I paid her, and when it was over, I got dressed and prepared to leave.”

  “Did Camille escort you downstairs to let you out?”

  “Yes, but for the first time, she asked me to wait while she got her things. She was rushing home to her husband. He was ill. I felt awful that I had kept her from her family. We walked downstairs and left via the alleyway together. I worried in case someone spotted us. Camille even crossed the road with me. We were heading in the same direction. It appeared she lived within five minutes of my home. When we went our separate ways, she said she hoped to see me next week. I said I hoped her husband was soon better. It was a most unusual evening.”

  “Was that the last time you visited Camille?” asked Gus.

  Derek Gosling smiled.

  “Can you imagine my reaction the next day when the news broke of the murder? I didn’t leave the house for days. Work was the last thing on my mind. I waited and waited for a knock on the door.”

  “You expected the police to learn that you were there maybe an hour before the killer struck?”

  “I couldn’t rule out that the parlour would release the names of customers who booked sessions that evening. If my name got linked with that business, my career would have been in ruins. I’m a lonely man, Mr Freeman. A sad, lonely man who craves company. I risked everything for a few minutes of excitement with someone little more than a stranger. Except for that one night when I glimpsed the real person behind the made-up name.”

  “In the event, the police didn’t contact you, did they?”

  “They did not. As the days and weeks passed, I realised they weren’t after the customers. The police must have believed the killer was someone much closer to
the poor woman who died.”

  “You allowed yourself a brief smile when I asked if that was the last occasion you saw Camille. Why was that?” asked Gus.

  “Gentle Touch never re-opened, as you are no doubt aware. I was reticent about looking for somewhere new. Several months passed. In late November, I was walking near my home and bumped into Camille. We discussed the murder of her colleague. I asked Camille what she did now. She said some of the girls had moved to the parlour on Cricklade Road. She hadn’t returned to work yet as her husband had died in August. I don’t think she had many people to confide in; their children lived with their grandparents in Thailand. I told her I was a lawyer and offered to help in any way I could. At Christmas, she dropped by my office with a card. Not a Christmas card, but a business card. She started working again in the New Year. I visit her every Sunday at Cleopatra’s. She works under the name Therese now.”

  “Do you meet her at any other time, outside the parlour?” asked Gus.

  “Never, but it’s the closest I’ve ever been to a real relationship. I hope you won’t tell Therese how you learned of her change of name? I would hate for her to stop letting me visit her.”

  “We have no intention of damaging anyone’s reputation or relationships, Mr Gosling. We’re seeking a vicious killer. Nothing more. When you left the alleyway that evening, you were keen nobody saw you. I imagine your senses were on high alert. Did you see or hear anyone in the vicinity of the parlour?”

  “The street was empty. I could hear someone singing nearby. They were singing and whistling; they must have been happy in their work. I saw no one, however.”

  “We needn’t detain you further, Mr Gosling. Thank you for attending this afternoon. If you remember where those sounds might have come from, please inform us. DS Davis will see you out.”

  “Another relieved customer,” said Lydia, when Derek Gosling had left the office, “I wonder how often they’ve gone over their part in that night’s events? Seven years they’ve held onto snippets of information, waiting for someone to ask what they saw and heard. Gablecross screwed up the investigation first time around, didn’t they guv?”

  “Remember what I told you not long after you walked through that door for the first time, Lydia. DI Hickerton would have been under pressure. New crimes hit his desk every day. If they didn’t make immediate inroads, the detective team would move on to another case which offered a better chance of success. They decided early on it was a family member and concentrated their focus on that. I need to have a word with Maggie Monk about one thing. She told Hickerton she believed Camille returned home with her husband. That was a lie. Maggie hid the fact that she moved on to another parlour after her husband’s death.”

  “We didn’t make much progress other than learning Maggie lied, did we guv?”

  “We’ve learned something new this afternoon which could prove worthwhile. Someone was working on Sunday evening at around eight o’clock close enough to the alleyway for Derek Gosling to hear. Who was that? Where were they? What did they see?”

  “Jeff Naylor, the last client, may have heard something, guv,” said Alex.

  “Naylor’s not due here until Tuesday,” said Neil.

  “Only two left to interview this afternoon,” said Gus, “first up is Cyril Harrison, a banker, forty-five years old. Then we have Babar Ahmed, a retired dentist, who lives in Wroughton. He’s seventy-two now. Both clients of Camille. Harrison was her six o’clock appointment and Ahmed her seven o’clock.”

  “Why the full hour for Harrison and not the usual thirty minutes?” asked Neil.

  “Camille may not have had as many regulars as Gem. We won’t have a long wait to discover the reason for the gap,” said Gus, “in the meantime, why don’t we have a coffee?”

  “I’ll go,” said Lydia.

  Gus was ready to offer to help when his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar ringtone. What was that? Heck, someone had triggered his security system. Who was snooping around his bungalow? He checked the app.

  An off-duty Suzie Ferris stood near his front door. She was studying his camera. When she disappeared, he soon caught sight of her in the back garden. The camera covering the kitchen door now held her in its gaze. Gus knew Suzie was intelligent enough to realise he could see her. What was she doing? Adam had shown him how to contact intruders via his phone, so he gave it a try.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You’re on private property. Please leave before I call the police.”

  Suzie did something unexpected.

  She lifted her t-shirt and bra in a single motion exposing her breasts. Then she beckoned for Gus to get home. Suzie looked on the verge of tears.

  She must be drunk, thought Gus; some bugger has upset her. I can’t leave her like that. The neighbours will have a field day.

  Lydia had returned with the coffees. Neil was collecting Cyril Harrison from downstairs.

  “Alex, do me a favour,” asked Gus, “something’s cropped up. You’ve heard the pattern of these interviews. Follow my lead and then get them to tell you what they saw and heard when entering and leaving the premises. Ask about this one-hour session Harrison had. It might be the first chink in Maggie Moon’s armour relating to what was actually on the menu. I’ll be back in the office first thing on Tuesday morning. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

  Gus passed Neil and Cyril Harrison at the lift door.

  “Neil, while Alex is chatting with Mr Harrison here, can you and Lydia redouble your efforts to trace this footballer? He’s a person of interest. I want him found before Tuesday.”

  Neil nodded.

  Gus left the banker in capable hands. Alex swung across to Gus’s chair on his crutches. Neil made sure Cyril Harrison sat in the chair opposite.

  Gus kept just under the limit as he drove home. He tried to work out what had got Suzie so upset. The Detective Inspector was usually unflappable, relaxed and calm in a crisis. He found her sat on the step outside his kitchen door. She was now correctly dressed.

  “Come inside, Suzie,” said Gus, “I’ll put the coffee on. Where’s your car, by the way?”

  “In the car park behind the Lamb. I went there for lunch. Things went pear-shaped.”

  “I assume you didn’t drink alone. I spotted you in Devizes the other evening as I left the supermarket. You were with someone. Was he your lunch date?”

  “Tim Yarwood. We went out together when we were younger. He played rugby for a Championship side. You wouldn’t know him. Tim’s a player-coach now for one of the local clubs. We met up by chance again a few weeks ago. We both thought there was something worth pursuing. Last week we spent time together; it felt right. Last night we spent at my place. I’d chosen the same red wine we shared the night I came here and slept in your spare room. I cooked us a meal, plied Tim with the red wine, and convinced him he couldn’t drive home.

  Lucky bloke thought Gus. Why tell me, though? Suzie knew the situation between him and Vera. It would be a big surprise if the events of last weekend didn't reach her ears.

  “Everything was going fine,” said Suzie.

  Do I need to hear this, thought Gus?

  “You know what it’s like when the passion of the moment grabs you and you lose control?”

  Funny you should mention it. Something similar happened to me recently, Gus thought.

  “It’s your fault,” said Suzie.

  “Sorry? How can it be my fault?” he said.

  Suzie carried on unloading her problems as if Gus hadn’t spoken.

  “Suddenly, Tim jumped out of my bed, got dressed and dashed out to his car. I scrabbled around, searching for my underwear. When I was decent, I shouted at him from the bedroom window to come back. I knew he shouldn’t be driving, but he was long gone.”

  This conversation might make sense in a moment, Gus thought.

  “Was Tim stopped on his way home and done for driving under the influence?”

  “No,” sobbed Suzie, “I kept ringing him this morning, asking hi
m to meet me today in the Lamb. We needed to talk. Tim turned up. I wanted to understand why what should have been a lovely moment suddenly turned to crap.”

  “These things happen,” said Gus, “what did he say?”

  “I’ve told you. It’s your fault. It was your name I cried out, not Tim’s.”

  There wasn’t much chance of the poor bloke making a mistake. Tim. Timmy. Timbo. Gus.

  He knew what he said next was crucial.

  If only he knew what to say.

  Gus bought himself a few seconds thinking time by wrapping his arms around Suzie and allowing her to soak the front of his blue work shirt with her tears; it seemed to help. The tears subsided. Suzie lifted her head; her mouth was less than an inch away. Suzie wasn’t making any attempt to move.

  “So, Tim buggered off and left you in the pub,” said Gus, trying to keep things light. “You had a few drinks and staggered up the lane to find out if I was home.”

  “I didn’t know whether you would have gone into work this afternoon. I spotted the camera firm’s van in the car park, so I realised they’d installed your cameras.”

  “They work very well, based on the trial run you gave the system.”

  “It was the only way I could think of getting you to return home.”

  “I’m sorry about you and Tim.”

  “Don’t be. I appreciate my timing is terrible, but there’s only one way to solve this problem.”

  Suzie closed the gap between them.

  Saturday, 5th May 2018

  This is becoming a habit, thought Gus as he awoke to find a naked woman beside him for the second Saturday running. He told himself he was a fool. Last night had been a mistake.

  Suzie had been on the rebound from this Tim Yarwood character. As much as Gus had loathed the bloke from the moment that he laid eyes on him in the supermarket car park; it wasn’t right. He and Vera may have agreed they would take things slowly, but last weekend had been a commitment of sorts.

  Gus couldn’t avoid that fact. There was never any mention of either of them seeing other people. He was old enough to be Suzie’s father. He should have let her down gently, continued the black coffee treatment to sober her up and then drove her home.