White Lilies

by R. C. Bridgestock

  ‘Never assume, Mr Tate. That’s one of the first rules of investigation,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Can you tell us who the owners of the car are then?’ asked Ronnie.

  John looked at Dylan.

  ‘I don’t think that would help, do you?’

  ‘Come on, Inspector. We’re upset and it’d be a comfort to us to know something, anything.’

  ‘Okay,’ Dylan said. ‘It’s a couple of lads from the Greenaway Estate called Danny Denton and Billy Greenwood. But, let me warn you, we’ll know if you go anywhere near them. Let us do our job. If it was one of them driving the car we’ll find out, I promise you,’ said Dylan.

  ‘The inspector’s right, Graham. Our Bridey would have been the first to tell you to let the police sort it out – you know, she would. Don’t you go doing anything stupid now,’ said Rose.

  ‘I just feel so bloody helpless,’ Graham said, flailing his arms. ‘I’ve let them both down so badly,’ he said, breaking down once more.

  Rose reached out to comfort him. She laid an arm protectively around his shoulders. ‘Why our Bridey and Toby? Why?’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d name them, boss,’ John said, walking back into Dylan’s office when he’d shown the visitors out of the building.

  ‘I wasn’t going to. Then I decided that some information, however small, would be a lifeline for them to clutch to, like Ronnie said.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want Graham as an enemy, would you, boss?’ John said, grimacing. ‘I’m glad the doc didn’t tell him he couldn’t stop him taking their organs before Graham had come to his decision. That would have been horrendous.’

  ‘No,’ Dylan smiled, shaking his head. ‘I wouldn’t like to think he had a grudge against me.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Outside school gates at 3? Danny texted.

  Pam’s phone beeped again. ‘Mum?’ she mouthed, with a turn up of her nose and a frown.

  Aunt Mona’s ill. Off to France. Pick you up straight from school. Tell your teacher you’ll be away till next Tuesday.

  ‘Bummer,’ Pam cried, stamping her foot.

  As planned, Danny pulled up outside the school at three o’clock. Pam looked around cautiously for her dad’s vehicle before she ran over to his car. She leaned in. ‘What’s up?’ he said.

  ‘Aunt bloody drama queen Mona is ill,’ she said, kicking the toe of her shoe on the tarmac. ‘We’re off to France till Tuesday.’

  ‘Ah, never mind kid. Nought’s spoiling, we’ll arrange another time when you get back,’ Danny said, patting her hand. She took another look up and down the road.

  ‘Dad’ll be here any minute and if he sees me talking to you I’m dead meat,’ she said with a grimace. ‘I’d better go,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, before you do, tell us, do you know a Sara Whitworth?’ Danny said.

  ‘Yeah. Why?’ she asked with more than a hint of a sulk in her protruding bottom lip.

  ‘Is her dad a copper?’ Danny went on.

  ‘Yeah, I used to go round with her when I was a kid but she’s a bit of a geek now to be honest,’ she said, pulling a face. Pam saw her dad’s Audi creeping slowly past the stationary cars not fifty yards away.

  ‘Text me, won’t you,’ she called as she ran, holding her hand high in the air to catch her dad’s attention.

  Danny watched her go. ‘I think we might need to visit the dentist this weekend, Billy,’ he said out of the corner of his mouth.

  ‘And the flower shop,’ Billy mumbled.

  Danny turned and sniggered at his friend. Miss you already, hun, Danny texted Pam.

  Pam snuggled down into the luxurious seats of her dad’s car. As they cruised past Danny and Billy, Pam blew Danny a kiss and smiled to herself as she sighed with contentment.

  There was no sign of an alarm on the wall of the dentist surgery. Danny turned the key and pushed the door open with trepidation. It opened easily enough. He stood still, silencing his friend with a finger to his lips and listened. No bells, nothing. Billy followed Danny silently into a small, neat kitchenette.

  Walking around the building, it became apparent that the pickings weren’t that great from a dentist apart from a small amount of petty cash left in the open till.

  ‘Danny, sit in the chair and let me look in y’gob,’ Billy said, taking a white gown from an old coat stand in the corner of the surgery and putting his arms into it. He picked up a face mask from the work units.

  ‘Piss off. Grab the computers and stop arsing around.’

  ‘We off to the flower shop next?’ Billy asked, grumpily.

  ‘We’ll go to the house first and see what they’ve got in the fridge, then I’ll think about it if I can be bothered.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Boss, Grace Harvey’s fatal. Forensics just rang. The scientist, off the record, is certain some plastic from a light casing found at the scene of the accident is a match to an item taken from Denton and Greenwood’s garage. She wants to do a further test before committing herself to paper but wanted us to know ASAP in case it fitted in with any ongoing enquiries,’ Dennis said, with a glint in his eye.

  ‘Wouldn’t that be a great result? If it comes back a hundred per cent we’ll have Denton and his mate in for one death by dangerous and they’d be on site to charge if we get the evidence for Bridey and Toby’s murders. Do we know if Grace knew either scrote, or have we any intelligence as to why they might have been in Merton on the day Grace died?’

  ‘No, unfortunately we’ve no links between them and Mrs Harvey. They were probably just bombing through the village like bloody idiots.’

  ‘If it turns out that the glass from the headlight that was seized with the car parts from their garage is a positive match, then we’ll be able to drop it on Denton and Greenwood’s toes in an interview and hopefully nail the little bastards there and then.’

  ‘And on the Mildred Sykes murder, boss, the only visitor seen going to the house recently is a man that matches the description of our Mr Stevenson. However, he doesn’t deny going there and he’s connected to her and Grace Harvey because of their financial affairs, so that doesn’t help us much, does it?’ said Taylor.

  ‘Are you happy with him? Have you got anything back from the financial investigation side?’

  ‘No, is the answer to both your questions. It feels like there’s a rabbit off there somewhere, but I just can’t put my finger on it at the moment. Anyway, once I hear back from the Forensic Intelligence Unit, I’ll be having further words with him.’

  ‘I’ll come with you when you go and see him. So far, he’s the only person we’ve got with a connection to Ms Sykes, so we need to get his fingerprints and DNA to connect or eliminate him from the enquiry. Keep me posted, Taylor, I’m going to call a meeting for everyone involved with Grace Harvey’s death, Mildred Sykes’s murder and Bridey and Toby Tate’s murders to see if there’s anything drops out by having all the teams together and, also, to bring everyone up to speed. Let everyone have the chance to share their thoughts and information. Can you arrange, Dennis?’

  Dennis nodded.

  Taylor left the office and Dylan picked up the ringing phone. ‘What are you eating?’ he asked, with a smile.

  ‘A strawberry cream tart,’ Jen replied, giggling. ‘PC Whitworth just brought them in.’

  ‘Very nice … What’s he after?’

  ‘Why do you always think people have an ulterior motive?’ she said, laughing.

  ‘I’m a suspicious kinda guy.’

  ‘What’s new at your end?’

  ‘Not a lot, I’m waiting for forensics to come back to us and keeping my fingers crossed for their findings. Tell Brenda in your office she needs to reach for her prayer mat again.’

  ‘As bad as that, is it?’ Jen said.

  ‘Yep, I’m afraid it is. It’s good to hear your voice. I seem to have got myself so immersed in work again lately that I don’t feel as if I’ve seen you much.’

  ‘It won
’t be forever, will it? If you pull your finger out and solve a few crimes you can spend more time with me after that and other people won’t have to keep treating me to cream cakes,’ she said.

  ‘You might well laugh. How does he know strawberries are your weakness anyway?’

  ‘He doesn’t. Now, go solve some crimes and, who knows, the next strawberries I have might even be with my fella.’

  ‘Love you lots,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve had my fix now so I’d better get on with some work.’

  ‘Let me know what time you’re gonna be home and I’ll have tea ready.’

  ‘Okay, love. Bye for now,’ Dylan said with a smile in his voice as he put the phone down. DS John Benjamin knocked at his office door and walked in, carrying his coat.

  ‘Boss, just to let you know I’m off to see a snout who’s telling me someone is asking a lot of questions on the estate about Denton and Greenwood.’

  ‘Graham Tate?’

  ‘Don’t know. I haven’t used this snout before so I don’t know how good he is. Do you need me to sign the forms for his money?’

  ‘Yes, please, and then I’ll go up to admin. Looks like we might have to go and have a word with Mr Tate,’ Dylan said, frowning as he scribed his name on the form.

  ‘Get back to you as soon as,’ John said, strutting out of Dylan’s office with a purpose in his steps.

  Lisa brought in a fax for Dylan’s attention. The scenes of crime officers had lifted a number of fingerprints from Mildred Sykes’ house. Of these, a duplicate was causing some interest as it appeared on her bedside cabinet and other drawers in her home.

  They were satisfied that they were not Mildred’s because they had checked them against the limited fingerprint impressions that they had taken from the body at the mortuary. They were checking the marks found through the automated fingerprint identification system but they hadn’t had any hits so far, meaning that the person they belonged to didn’t have a criminal record. Nevertheless, the information confirmed that someone had been searching the house, which would connect that person to the scene. What it wouldn’t be able to tell him was if this occurred during, or after, her murder.

  Impatient, Dylan picked up the phone to ring the forensic department. As he listened to their dialling tone he wondered if an update from them would continue in the same positive vein but the office manager told him they’d no results for him, as yet.

  He sat doodling on his blotting paper pad, drawing lines down its brown leatherette corners. What could he tell the personnel at the meeting?

  ‘Vicky, can you call another meeting for tomorrow morning in the incident room, please?’ Dylan called out.

  ‘Yeah, and I’ll stick a brush up my arse and sweep the floor while I’m at it if you like, sir,’ she mumbled to herself.

  Dylan sniggered to himself. ‘Can you make a coffee at the same time, do you think?’

  A pen flew through the air and landed in front of him.

  ‘Missed,’ he called out to her with a chortle.

  Two hit-and-run fatalities in such close proximity. Could it just be coincidence? There could soon be a shout for a review team to look at ongoing enquiries. What was he missing? The last thing he wanted was for this team to find fault with the investigation.

  Got them strawberries in? I’m on my way home, he texted Jen.

  Yep, but eaten them. Think I’ve found a craving, came her reply.

  ‘What an excuse. Now I’ve heard everything,’ he muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holding the keys for the Forrester’s home was far too tempting for Danny and Billy. The house, like the dentists and the florists, didn’t appear to have an alarm, or at least not one that could be seen from the roadside. The boys drove up the drive and parked outside the house, letting themselves in without a backwards glance.

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Billy, heading straight for the kitchen. He opened the fridge door and shut it again almost instantly. ‘Catch,’ he shouted to Danny as a can of lager came whizzing through the air. He caught it – just.

  ‘Bloody idiot,’ scolded Danny. ‘Let’s not be too damned obvious. We don’t want to upset Pam, not till we get our way, anyway,’ he said, grinning. Billy yanked the ring pull. Drinking the alcohol from the can didn’t keep him still as he browsed around the room in between swigs, opening cupboard doors and shutting them again, without a care in the world. ‘Kit-Kat?’ he said, offering Danny an unopened packet that he found.

  ‘Just one and then put the rest back,’ Danny said, opening the door into the lounge.

  ‘Nice house, Billy,’ Danny said, whistling as he walked slowly up the stairs. I wonder what they might not miss for a week or two?’

  Careful not to disturb things, he opened and closed drawers and cupboards.

  ‘God, Danny, have you seen how neat everything is?’ Billy’s face was a picture of wonderment.

  His friend laughed. ‘You moron,’ he said. ‘Everyone ain’t a scruffy bastard like you, yer know. We’ll have this, Billy,’ Danny said, holding up a gold chain he’d come across on the windowsill. ‘It should be worth a few quid like the other stuff we sold.’

  ‘Let’s have a look in Pam’s room,’ Billy said. He was lying on her bed when Danny walked in.

  ‘Oh, Danny,’ Billy whined as he draped her nightie around his head. He cuddled and kissed the teddy bear Pam’s mother had retrieved from the bin. ‘I love you so much,’ he said, in a high-pitched, soft girly voice. Danny stood looking at his friend with amusement.

  ‘This bed sure smells nice, Danny. Come lie with me,’ Billy said.

  ‘Come on, you prick. Stop pissing about and leave things straight,’ Danny said, walking out of the room.

  ‘Okay,’ Billy shouted as he jumped off the bed. He knelt on the floor beside her dressing table drawers and opened the top one. ‘Found them,’ he shouted.

  ‘What?’ shouted Danny who was inspecting an old oil painting hanging on the landing.

  ‘Knickers, knickers and more knickers,’ he yelled, throwing them into the air to Danny’s amusement as he popped his head around the door.

  ‘Control yourself, man,’ Danny warned him.

  ‘I’m gonna keep these,’ he beamed, holding up a bright pink thong to his nose and inhaling the smell of it deeply. ‘One day she might model them for me,’ he grinned, stuffing them in his pocket.

  Danny shook his head. ‘You’re seriously sad,’ he said. ‘We’ve spent long enough here,’ Danny said with a frown as he looked out of the window. ‘Tell you what, let’s go up the road and do the rich bloke with the Porsche’s house over again.’

  Danny peered out of the front door and looked both ways before confidently walking out of the house. Billy slammed the door behind him and followed. They climbed in the car and drove up the road to number 42. The Porsche wasn’t in the driveway and all was quiet.

  ‘Idle, Danny, bloody idle. Look, he hasn’t even had the patio doors repaired yet. All that fucking money and he can’t be bothered: serves him right if we go in again.’

  ‘He might not have any money left now we’ve nicked his cash.’ Danny chuckled. ‘I wonder why they haven’t pulled us about his telly. They knew it was his, the officer with the big tits told me.’

  Billy put a crowbar in the boarded-up patio door and prised it open. Within a minute they were in the kitchen. Quickly and thoroughly they checked the rooms out. Within a matter of minutes, they had grabbed a portable radio, DVD, camera, bags of sweets and small change. There was a pre-cooked chicken in the fridge.

  ‘That’ll do. Let’s get out of here,’ Danny called out.

  They threw their spoils in the car, jumped in and threw their hoods up. As they pulled out of the driveway Brian Stevenson arrived home. Billy leaned forward and gave him a V sign.

  ‘We can’t outrun that car, Billy, you nob,’ Danny scolded.

  Billy turned round to watch what the Porsche driver was doing.

  Brian Stevenson had more to worry about than two
-bit burglars.

  ‘Bastards, absolute bastards,’ he grunted through clenched teeth. ‘They’ll pay for this,’ he whispered. He had already been told who they might be and seeing their car registration number had proved the money he’d paid to find out had been worth it. Now he’d seen their car for himself he didn’t need to chase them, he knew exactly who they were and where they lived. Revenge would be sweet, but in his own time.

  Danny and Billy laughed as they drove up onto the moors. Billy tore off a chicken leg and handed it to Danny.

  ‘Text Pam.’

  ‘Do it your bloody self, you lazy git,’ Billy said.

  ‘Doh, I’m driving…’

  ‘What you want to say?’ he asked, wiping his greasy fingers down the front of his jeans before picking up the mobile phone.

  ‘When will you be home?’ he said.

  Billy took Pam’s thong out of his pocket and wiped his greasy mouth on it.

  The reply was instant. ‘Tuesday. I miss you.’ Pam thought studiously. She was sure she had told Danny when she was home. Wasn’t he counting the days like she was?

  ‘Ah, she misses you,’ Billy said, making a sad face at Danny. Danny screwed up his nose.