White Lilies

by R. C. Bridgestock

  ‘Yeah,’ Danny said with a swagger. ‘We’d better get down the scrappers tonight, though, before the plods come sniffing round,’ Danny added, clipping the back of Billy’s head and handing him back his cigarette.

  Danny fitted the light casing they’d acquired from the scrap yard next morning as Billy polished the car. Danny leaned in to turn on the radio. The news was on and straight away there was an appeal for witnesses to the fatal accident in Merton. ‘Fuck,’ he shouted to Billy as he lunged forward to turn up the volume.

  ‘How old?’ Billy asked.

  ‘Eighty. Told you she shouldn’t have been out on her own.’

  Billy laughed so much his mop of blond curly hair fell across his face. He pushed it back with his tattoo-covered hand.

  ‘Hey Danny, why don’t we put a line on the wing like pilots used to do on their planes when they shot down the enemy?’ Billy said eagerly, his eyes bright and dimples evident on his cheeky, fresh face.

  Danny showed his pearly white teeth in a grin. ‘Let’s make it two. We got the dog as well,’ he laughed.

  Billy picked up the tape from the bench and threw it to Danny. With his tongue between his teeth he concentrated hard as he applied it. Satisfied his masterpiece was well and truly stuck, they jumped into the car.

  ‘Time for cruising, Billy Boy,’ Danny shouted as the turn of the car key brought the engine to life with a roar.

  ‘Harrowfield High, here we come,’ shouted Billy above the rev of the engine.

  Music thumped out into the afternoon as Danny steered the red Ford Fiesta up to the traffic lights. Pulling their hoods up to hide their identities, they laughed raucously. The pavement seemed to vibrate beneath the shop assistant’s feet as she stood arranging flowers in buckets outside her shop. She looked over her glasses and stared at the car’s occupants.

  ‘Bloody lunatics,’ mumbled a young man wearing a wool hat, who grabbed a bunch out of her hand and ran off.

  ‘Hey,’ she called out, looking around for someone to help, but the only thing in sight was the car, poised like a wild tiger about to pounce as the engine struggled to wait for a green light. Suddenly its tyres screeched and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. What was the world coming to?she thought, as the fumes hit the back of her throat and she hurried back inside her shop with her hand over her mouth, coughing.

  Danny drove a car as if he was playing a computer game, with no thought to safety. Their vehicle was souped-up but legal, taxed and insured and, although the police regularly stopped them, the boys were always confident they couldn’t be touched.

  The local police knew their modus operandi was thieving. They had been caught siphoning fuel from cars in villages, reported and charged for robbing houses, screwing garden sheds and selling the proceeds to car booters to raise quick cash. They survived on that and on hand-outs from the government. Their young, free and single existence held no regard for man nor beast.

  On school days they could usually be found hovering like vultures around the gates of the high school. Today was no different. They would get some un-streetwise girl or impressionable boy to buy them chips from the van or con them out of cash for beer and cigarettes. Forbidden fruit in this case was every parent’s worst nightmare.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Welcome to the office, and congratulations on making detective sergeant,’ Dylan said, as he realised his new DS was standing at his door. He had forgotten she was starting work in the office today.

  ‘I’m so pleased I got sent to work with you,’ she said, smiling flirtatiously at Dylan.

  Taylor Spiers was a single twenty-nine-year-old woman who had been in the police for nine years – and she had been a detective for four of them in a neighbouring town. She was doing well in comparison with some of her colleagues who continually threw their hat in the ring at the promotion boards.

  Jack Dylan hadn’t a great deal of knowledge about his new DS but he had heard she was a capable cop who loved the job. He’d heard a few rumours about her, too, but how much of that was true or pure fantasy by the men on the shift Dylan could only speculate. Looking at her now, he could see Taylor was a stunner. There was no doubt she would brighten up the office.

  Jen had heard of her, too. ‘Oh, Taylor Spiers? She’ll eat you alive,’ she’d chuckled when he’d told her who was joining his team. But she wouldn’t give any further explanation. Dylan was intrigued. He really should start listening to the girls’ gossip instead of turning a deaf ear.

  ‘I’ve got your first job here, Taylor,’ Dylan told her. ‘If you fancy a run out, we’ll give it the detective’s overview together. What do you say?’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ she replied with a smile.

  ‘It’s a hit and run fatal at Merton, happened yesterday. It’ll give us a chance to have a chat about the office and the detectives on your team.’

  ‘Great,’ she said, picking up her coat and designer bag. ‘A measly hit and run?’ she mumbled to herself, pulling a face as she walked away.

  ‘Ten minutes, if you want to cast your eye over the police officer’s report,’ he called.

  Within the hour they were walking by the side of Merton village green. Flowers and messages had been laid at the roadside at the spot where Grace and Winston had died.

  ‘The accident investigators found some glass at the scene, but whether that was to do with the accident remains to be seen. Hopefully, we may get a make and model of the type of car involved which would be a start,’ said Dylan, as he crouched down to read some of the tributes.

  ‘Do you want me to do an intelligence sheet for any stolen cars found abandoned with similar damage, or burnt out?’ asked Taylor.

  ‘Yeah, that’d be a good start – and let’s put an early warning around local garages and scrapyards. Someone may enquire about repairing a headlight or be looking to buy one.’

  They strolled across to the little village grocery store where Dylan, like the gentleman he was, held the door for Taylor. Dylan was impressed that she had dressed to make an impression on her first day but, looking her up and down as he followed her to the counter, he noticed how impractical her clothes were too.

  It reminded him of when he’d been a new detective inspector and been taken by his boss to view a body. It had been raining. The body had been found on moorland and he had been wearing his new light grey suit, which he could ill afford. Bought on credit, it had ended up soaked and so had his leather shoes. Returning to the office covered in mud, his boss had handed him a pair of Wellingtons with some advice.

  ‘Always be prepared, lad, unless you want to look stupid,’ he’d said, smugly.

  The bosses had been bastards in those days, Dylan thought, smiling to himself. But it was a lesson he never forgot. As for his suit, thankfully it dry-cleaned okay.

  ‘My golden rule, Taylor: always visit the scene. See it for yourself, no matter how well you think you know the area.’

  DS Spiers hung on his every word, nodding in agreement, taking notes when appropriate.

  ‘If the scene is outside, visit it at the same time of day that the incident occurred if you can; that way you’ll get a better feel for it and see what usually happens at the time the incident took place.’

  ‘I won’t let you down, boss,’ she said eagerly.

  ‘I know you won’t, Taylor. I’ll make sure of that,’ he said, smiling at her young, serious face.

  ‘A bit more advice,’ he continued.

  ‘Yes, boss,’ she said, sitting up straight and leaning towards him.

  ‘Buy a practical pair of shoes to keep in the boot of your car,’ he said, looking down at her strappy high heels.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said, a blush spreading across her face as she uncrossed her bare legs and tucked them neatly under the table. The two waited for their drinks while Dylan went through the necessary lines of enquiry for the road death.

  They looked over at the village green. ‘What can the accident investigators tell us?’ Then he stopped h
imself. ‘Sorry, I’m teaching you how to suck eggs,’ he smiled. ‘But somebody was responsible for Grace’s death and something I despise is when the perpetrator gets away or shows no remorse,’ he sighed. ‘But, Sarge, I’m sure you’re quite capable of sorting this one,’ Dylan said, leaning back in his chair.

  Taylor grinned. She liked being called Sarge, but this case was hardly the gory, high-profile murder she’d hoped for. She looked at Dylan thoughtfully as they drove back in the direction of the nick and wondered if he fancied her. He was a bit old, she thought, but he wasn’t that bad for his age.

  ‘Right, let’s get back to it. You’ve a crime to detect and, who knows, it could be a murder,’ Dylan said, turning to face her with his smiling eyes.

  Yeah, he definitely liked her, she decided.

  ‘I suppose so,’ she replied, sitting on her hands as she grinned at him. ‘But this one’s a bit boring, isn’t it?’ she said, screwing up her face.

  ‘Boring?’ Dylan raised his voice. ‘Some poor old dear has been killed and you think the investigation is boring?’

  ‘Well yeah, but who’d want to murder a little old lady and her dog?’

  ‘If you investigate it properly, who knows, maybe you’ll find out.’ He shook his head. ‘Never assume anything, my girl. Always look for what the evidence tells you. Then, and only then, can you make an informed decision.’

  Taylor sat pondering his words in silence for the rest of the journey. Was she going to like working under Dylan after all if he thought this was a meaty case?

  Chapter Four

  Pam Forrester was just thirteen, but like many girls her age she had the figure of a sixteen-year-old. Her mum, Stephanie, had been a model in her younger days, long before she’d married Pam’s dad, Bill, a dentist, and she had taken on a more stable career as a florist. She would like nothing more than for her daughter to follow in her footsteps, which is why she worked so hard. The Flowerpot Emporium would hopefully one day fund that dream.

  Pam was the apple of her dad’s eye. Like most daughters, she knew how to get what she wanted from him – and boy, did she use it. Pam was a good student, keen on most sports and loved horse riding. Her parents were proud of her. However, lately they had noticed that she was getting much more interested in boys. They knew it was normal. She was growing up – but still, at the moment, she was too young for them to have any real worries.

  Danny Denton, Pam knew instinctively that her parents wouldn’t approve. Daily she watched Danny pull up outside the school gates in his car and each time she saw him her heart would miss a beat, she’d become breathless and her legs would turn to jelly. Was that a sign of being in love, she wondered?

  Pam saw older girls run out of school and climb into the back of his car and all she could do was watch and envy them. As far as she knew, Danny didn’t know she was alive; but then why would he? She was just a kid.

  Pam had thought long and hard about a plan to get herself noticed by him and had started to put her ideas into action. She’d rolled up the waistband on her school skirt, showing off her shapely long legs. She knew they looked good when she’d checked in the mirror in the girl’s changing rooms. She’d borrowed her mum’s expensive mascara and lip gloss from her make-up case. She hung around for a few days, hoping he would spot her but this didn’t appear to be working. In desperation, one day, she stepped out in front of his car. That got her noticed.

  Slamming on his brakes didn’t appear to upset Danny and instead of screaming abuse at her like any ‘normal’ road-rage driver, he smiled and waved her to the pavement.

  He had a nice smile, she thought dreamily as she walked home that day. But Pam was impatient and wasn’t content with a smile; she wanted more. She’d been an observer for far too long. Some of the students called the girls that got into Danny’s car ‘slags’, but she knew they were only jealous.

  Pam walked home sometimes with Leanne Gray. Leanne was in the sixth form and Pam only knew her because she worked at the flower shop for her mum on a Saturday. However, she hung around with a group of girls, some of whom talked to Danny and his friend – although Leanne thought they were stupid. Pam saw a great opportunity to discover more about him. She’d decided she would do whatever it took to get to know Danny, even if Leanne wasn’t a person she’d normally choose to hang around with – she was far too geeky for Pam’s liking.

  Danny and his friend Billy screeched up alongside them one day, causing a dust cloud. Pam’s heart pounded and her head was in a spin. What would she say to him if he spoke to her?

  ‘Ignore them,’ Leanne said, quickening her pace. She blanked Danny and Billy as the car crawled along beside them, guessing easily enough what they were after and knowing that her employer, Pam’s mother, wouldn’t like her daughter getting involved with them. Leanne needed her job.

  Pam trailed behind her companion.

  Danny leaned across in front of Billy and shouted through the open window. ‘Legs, d’you want a ride?’

  God, was he speaking to her? Well, she didn’t want to be mean, but there was no way they could say that to Leanne … Yes, he had noticed her. Before she knew it, Danny had stopped the car some yards ahead. Billy had got out and was holding the door open, inviting her to get in.

  ‘Come on, don’t take any notice,’ Leanne said as she walked on. ‘You shouldn’t get involved.’

  But Pam didn’t listen; she couldn’t believe her luck. Am I dreaming? she thought as she clambered into the backseat of the car in a trance-like state.

  ‘They’re bad news,’ Leanne shouted. She desperately banged on the window. Danny put his foot on the accelerator. Leanne’s words were drowned by the noise and all Pam could see as she looked out of the car window was Leanne’s wide-open mouth. She looked to be calling her name.

  Pam had been waiting for this moment for so long. She smiled and a warm rush of adrenalin shot through her body. The only downside was there didn’t appear to be a crowd watching: no one to envy her. She could feel her cheeks burning as Danny held her gaze in the rear-view mirror. Her heart was hammering in her chest. This was what she’d dreamt of.

  Danny steered the car expertly around tight bends as they drove at speed into the countryside. She was rolled from side to side on the backseat and she laughed out loud. It was like being on a Waltzer at the funfair. She had no idea where they were going, but who cared? Nothing mattered except that she was in Danny’s car having fun.

  ‘What’s your name, Legs?’ said Billy, turning to look at her over his headrest.

  ‘Pamela, err … Pam,’ she stuttered.

  ‘How old are you?’ Billy said, as Danny held her gaze again for a few moments in the mirror.

  ‘Sixteen,’ she said, not taking her eyes off Danny’s. Her heart thumped in her chest. She held her breath.

  ‘Thought you must be, with legs like them,’ Danny quipped, turning to wink at his friend.

  Pam could feel herself growing redder and redder. He believed her. Billy rolled a cigarette and lit it. There was a pungent smell.

  ‘Want a drag?’ he said, passing it back to her.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, with a confidence she didn’t feel. Never having smoked before, she puffed on the spliff, coughed and quickly handed it back. It made her feel nauseous. Suddenly she felt the car swerve and Danny pulled off the road and into a car park. The tyres crushed the layer of thick gravel and slowed the car down.

  The car came to a halt and Pam looked at her surroundings. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but moorland. No people, no cars, no houses. Danny switched off the engine and then the music. The silence rang in her ears. Why had he brought her here, she wondered?

  ‘Isn’t it lovely up here? Eh Pam?’ said Danny, staring out of the window as he tapped the steering wheel. Pam nodded, not knowing what to say.

  ‘It’s really quiet … Nobody bothers you up here, do they, Billy?’ he said seriously.

  ‘No,’ said Billy, taking a drag of the spliff and handing it to Danny
.

  ‘It’s our favourite spot, isn’t it, Billy?’ Danny said, turning to his mate, who nodded. He turned his head further round to look at Pam and she smiled at him nervously.

  Billy turned to look at her too. ‘It can be hours before you see anybody up here,’ he said, his voice deep and his breathing heavy. His eyes had a fixed stare. Pam fumbled with the hem of her skirt and, tugging at it, she made a useless attempt to try to cover the top of her legs that Billy’s eyes were glued to. She looked at Danny for support. Billy was scaring her. Danny stared at her with a silly lopsided smile on his face.

  Suddenly she began to feel afraid.

  Chapter Five

  ‘Grace Harvey might have been a nice old lady, boss, but her son sounds like a right tosser,’ Taylor Spiers said as she walked into Dylan’s office.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ he asked, as he looked up from his computer screen. He relaxed back in his chair and, with a sweep of his arm, invited Taylor to sit down.

  ‘Donald arrived in Merton yesterday for her funeral,’ she explained. ‘And he’s already making allegations that his mother’s been fleeced. He’s told us that he’s come across documents that say the house doesn’t belong to her anymore and he knew nothing of her signing it over and he should have as he’s the benefactor in her will. He’s also suggesting that his mum’s death wasn’t an accident. I’m just off to see him.’

  ‘I take it he was expecting to be a beneficiary to an inheritance he ain’t gonna get?’

  ‘Yep, appears so. I’ll see what proof he’s got, if he stops shouting long enough to talk to me properly,’ she said, grimacing.

  ‘There weren’t any problems at the opening of the inquest were there?’

  ‘No, PC Tim Whitworth’s evidence was pretty straightforward for a hit and run. He had hoped an appeal in the press might lead to tracing the offending vehicle and its driver but no one came forward admitting responsibility or providing any more information. There was very little evidence left at the scene, but Mr Harvey didn’t attend.’