An Urgent Murder

by Alex Winchester

  His room had been given a ‘once over’ by someone who hadn’t apparently enough time to put things back exactly as they were. Checking his knife, which on reflection he knew he should have taken with him on his jog intrigued him. It was to all intents and purposes undisturbed and where he had left it. But it was the wrong way round!

  ‘Strange,’ he pondered, ‘Everything has been neatly done up till now. Interesting.’

  Alison got ready for work, and finally after a frantic search found the spare front door keys in a kitchen drawer which she gave to him.

  “Why are they always in a different place to where you thought you’d left them?”

  “Sod’s law.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  She hurriedly tossed Hannibal out knowing already that she was going to be late even having risen before the sparrows. Simon watched her from the front door as she got into her car and sped away passing the watcher’s van which did not move. To the station was no more than ten minutes at that time of day and there were early morning and night workers on the move which Simon hoped provided safety for her. It was the start of the Chichester rush hour.

  At the front door, he checked both keys in the locks. The one for the five lever deadlock was a little stiff, but the Yale was very slick. Anyone with a small credit card could have slipped the Yale. Shutting the door, he slipped both keys into his pocket and went into the kitchen. Filling the kettle to its maximum, he turned it on and it instantly started to make a low hiss which he knew would increase as the water got hotter. As the crescendo built he quickly started to open the draws in the kitchen and soon found a small collection of keys at the very rear of one. It wasn’t the draw Alison had found the door keys in. Turning the kettle off and emptying most of the boiling water, he reset it on its electric base.

  Recovering the scanner, he completed a further sweep of the flat finding just one new bug in the base of the light on the locker beside his bed. It was not at all well-hidden compared to the others and would easily have been noticed by an observant person without any technical assistance. Simon smiled although he was worried. It was as though someone wanted him to realise the room had been searched.

  His thoughts swung back to Alison who was so obviously the target; he was amazed she hadn’t realised.

  66

  Saturday 11th June 2011

  John had found and recovered his bug from the industrial estate and sworn an oath at Ian who had previously drummed into him the bigger bugs with more magnets were the more efficient ones albeit harder to conceal. ‘What’s he expect me to do? Book it in for a service? Roll under the van and stick it on?’ He was aching more now than he had done all night, and decided against a visit to Carol preferring his own bed. Knowing it might be a risk; he approached his flat in Westgate, from West Street and drove past the block. No one was watching from Westgate itself so he returned and drove into the small courtyard where his garage was in a block of six, and opening his door remotely, he reversed inside. There was plenty of room in the garage for him to get out unimpeded and no one seemed to be about.

  Ignoring the remote control, he slammed the door to his garage shut, and walked as quickly as he could along the short footpath to the front door of the foyer of the three flats in his block. Unlocking it, he entered leaving it to slowly close by itself, and ignoring the small personal lift, struggled up the one flight of stairs to his front door and inside. His flat was the largest of the three sitting above the two on the ground floor. The block had been well built with exceptionally good sound insulation and John had never once been bothered by noise. Tonight, or now today, was no exception.

  No one attacked him or appeared to be watching his flat. He deactivated his burglar alarm and had one minute to check his main security system. In the kitchen was a single dirty plate and mug standing on the draining board waiting to be washed up. John opened the cupboard under the sink not to look for the washing up liquid that was kept there, but ostensibly to look for a small ‘dot’ light. There was a dull green light displayed as though for a completed cycle of a washing machine or dishwasher, but he knew it meant no unauthorised person had been inside his flat while he was out. He flipped a switch on a panel practically concealed amongst his cleaning utensils to neutralise it. Going straight to his bedroom, he threw his clothes onto a chair and set his little bedside alarm clock. Then he slept the sleep of the dead.

  Rising at 5.30 quite normally just prior to his alarm clock going off, and forgoing the en suite shower, he went to the main bathroom, and ran himself a bath. Tipping half a bottle of Radox in, he languished in the soothing properties it offered. Gradually the aches and pains seemed to be washed away and when he got out of the bath, he felt rejuvenated. Searching for clean clothes and a fresh suit, he got dressed with hardly a twinge of pain, and retracing his steps to the garage, freed his car and headed for the Police Station. When he got to the station, his parking space was vacant but still full of the debris that had been blown there over the weeks and months, and could go no further. The maintenance staff seemed to ignore his space when they completed their weekly tasks. It didn’t stop him parking.

  Holding his newly acquired mobile in one hand, he tapped away with one finger to carefully type out a text message to Simon. ‘Can you be available at lunch time for a meeting somewhere in Chichester?’ The reply in less than a few seconds was swift and confirmed his availability and queried where. John hadn’t been to the cafe in the cathedral for some time so suggested there at 1pm. It was only a little place in the cloisters with a large garden full of tables, but served a very pleasant lunch. Every day in the summer it was packed mainly with retired locals and the occasional cathedral visitors who stumbled across it by accident. Once agreed, John left the haven of his car, and headed for the canteen walking through the door and to his regular table just after 7.am.

  Within a couple of minutes, a harassed Alison joined him. She studied the stitches on his face for a few seconds and then asked him how he was.

  “I’m OK, but I have a feeling that my assailants would have preferred me to have had a few days off to recover.”

  Alison was bemused, “Why?”

  “We’ll get to that later.”

  It was not worth her pursuing it any further because past experience had taught her that he would only tell her when he was ready. Instead, she bemoaned the fact that she thought Simon was some kind of sadist, and by way of explanation, described in embellished detail the morning’s exercise. John laughed loudly at the thought and then suggested that she should get the coffee because he was still suffering and to get up would be much too painful.

  They both drank more than they really needed and ate what both would consider a cholesterol inducing breakfast. When neither could drink nor eat any more, they went to the office climbing the stairs at a leisurely pace to accommodate John’s now exaggerated gait. On entering, Paul asked how John was, as the assault had become common knowledge at the station, and offered them both a drink. He was rather put out by the pair declining so swiftly and abruptly.

  John decided the time was now right to inform Paul about the bird box and his two nights’ activities in the barn, also to a degree, updating Alison in the process. There were a few ‘minor’ discrepancies in his telling. Mainly, he had spotted the bird box by chance and having discussed it with Alison agreed he should spend a couple of nights to see if anything happened. He did not mention the deployed bug or ‘trembler’ to Paul but made a mental note to update Alison as soon as he could.

  When it came to the part of the van, he said he couldn’t get to it quick enough due to his debilitating injuries. So, he claimed he had no alternative but to try and follow it. Regrettably, he’d lost it as it went towards Arundel but had been fortunate enough to get the index number which he gave to Paul and asked him to do the PNC (Police National Computer) checks. Once they had the driver details, it would be simple work to check and arrange a search warrant. Paul said he would get straight onto it via a secure
and dedicated computer terminal downstairs specially used for all forms of official PNC searches.

  As soon as he’d left the room, John enlightened Alison as to the whole sorry saga of the bug and it falling off, which she found somewhat amusing. Then he broached the serious subject of the broken rear nearside light and what was really troubling him.

  “When the light got broken.”

  “When you broke it.”

  “Semantics. Don’t interrupt.”

  “Sorry.”

  “When the light got broken, the van was a plain white VW. When it passed me in Ford, it had a colourful insignia and some writing on the side. It does not bode well. The driver has taken precautions in order not to be identified. It implies to me that it was not a one-off occurrence.”

  “It’s just magnetic boards that are stuck on the side. Lots of vans have them because they are cheaper than sign writing and can be transferred between vehicles. You’re worrying unnecessarily.”

  It wasn’t long before his fears came to fruition as Paul came back into the office and told them the index number belonged to a van with a registered keeper in Manchester. John glanced towards Alison,

  “Well that just puts the icing on the cake.”

  Her reply was more to the point, “Bollocks.”

  Paul looked from one to the other, “Have I missed something?”

  John sighed contritely and said, “No. We were pinning our hopes on that.”

  “Are you sure you got the right number?”

  “I believed so. Registered keeper in Manchester. Something is not right.”

  Paul said he would check it out with the force area covering the keepers address but John was rueful.

  “I’m not holding out much hope.”

  Doreen strode into the office and sat down at her desk and tucked her book into her top drawer. She caught the last part of the narrative as Paul was telling John about the vehicle in Manchester. So to bring her up to speed Alison filled her in with the rest of the abridged story while the two men discussed various aspects of the case. Paul was of the opinion that the whole case against Munroe was likely to crash as soon as the Judge heard the basis of the evidence. They agreed all should be revealed to Prodow at the late afternoon meeting.

  Doreen considered just having a chat to Paul quietly when no one else was in the office, but it seemed right that she should include Alison and John.

  “While I was at my meeting last night a woman who hardly ever turns up disrupted it half way through by bringing up the murder. She kind of threw in the question, ‘Why would anyone want to kill an old man who was already on death’s doorstep’. She implied the main reason would likely be money. Then she sat back and just listened to what everybody else thought. I’m aware that some monies were taken from his account prior to his death, but I don’t know if it was relevant. Is this something worth considering?”

  Paul said, “It’s something we have considered and Jimmy has the last year’s copy of his bank statements. They have been looked at by the analyst but please get hold of them and we will go back through them.”

  John said, “The main reasons people kill are primarily for profit, then come things like jealousy, revenge, being ‘dissed,’ honour, and for some, enjoyment. Any of these may be the motive for poor old George pushing up the daisies.”

  Alison added, “Don’t forget murder to cover something up. That’s my favourite.”

  Paul said, “You two are real joys.” He offered Doreen a cup of tea, and was gratified that someone appreciated him in the morning.

  67

  Saturday 11th June 2011

  “The time is right. Can you do it as soon as possible?”

  “Today if it looks good.”

  “Tremendous.”

  “What about the ‘bugger’?”

  “He doesn’t need to know any of this. He’s done his job.”

  “Do you want him eliminated?”

  “What does he know?”

  “Nothing. Everything she said has been rubbish.”

  “Let him be. We know where we can find him if we have to.”

  “What about the stuff in her flat?”

  “Tell him to clear it out, and the one on her car. Do her phone when you pick her up.”

  “There was a problem with that. It went wrong the other day. I was behind them listening to their chatter and they went into a dead spot and then nothing. The ‘bugger’ couldn’t get the signal back.”

  There was silence on the line.

  “You there?”

  “What did he say about that?”

  “Said it’s never happened before.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “It had been working fine up till then. It might be a contact come loose.”

  “Soon as you get the phone, check it and let me know.”

  “OK.”

  “Anything else I should know?”

  “There’s a guy turned up to stay with her. Some relative.”

  “Fuck’s sake.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “Make fucking sure it isn’t.”

  “Everything’s under control.”

  “We’re relying on you. Don’t fuck up” and the phone went dead.

  68

  Saturday 11th June 2011

  John wanted to go through what the small team had found out over the last week or so in conjunction with the enquiries and paperwork completed by the original investigating officers. Taking the working copy binder from Paul, both John and Alison left the office and headed for the car park. Before getting into Alison’s car, John reminded her of the bug, and was swiftly rebuked rudely as to her possible forgetfulness. As she drove to St Richard’s Hospital for John to be X-rayed, he went through salient details of the investigation with her omitting all mention of the bird box and the lost van. Just in case the bug had been changed for a ‘listener’.

  They parked in the hospital car park after Alison had collected her parking permit and checked on a display board how much two hours was to cost her. Muttering to herself, she considered it to be an extortionate amount for a couple of hours. She was not alone in this as the official patients’ group were also bleating in the local press that people had to pay to park at the hospital to visit inpatients. ‘Maybe,’ thought Alison, ‘that’s why people call the ambulances more as a phone call is free and it’s a lot more convenient than parking.’

  Walking through immaculately clean and polished corridors decked with fresh flowers arranged by someone who knew what they were about, both entered the X-ray department. It was hygienic with insipid greenish walls and strange machines in small side rooms barely large enough to swing a cat. Nurses and doctors were rushing about making sure they were outside the rooms and the doors were closed before any machine was activated, then rushing back in when it had been turned off. After furnishing his name at a small reception area, they were shown to a seating bay by a larger lady wearing a blue tabard that was struggling to stay in place. She appeared harassed but in control of who went where and when.

  Speaking quietly between themselves, they concluded that Munroe had either been set up as the ‘fall guy’ for the murder, or was cunning enough to present evidence that would make it seem so. As a result of the matter of the bird box and missing van which had come to light while Munroe was being held in custody, they plumped for the first. Then they considered if she could have an accomplice which in turn would cause them to go for the second option. The third scenario was she had nothing to do with the murder and was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was committed by someone else at present unknown or unsuspected.

  Sitting in silence, they both stared ahead at the green wall lost in their own thoughts considering all the possibilities.

  Alison broke the silence first and said as if in a rhetorical manner, “I like the last. She had nothing to do with it. We have no idea who did it. The bird box man is the key.”

  The large lady came rushing over
to where they were sitting causing both to recoil and look at her as she said sarcastically, “Please answer when we call your name as it helps the department to run smoothly. Room 2A if you could manage it. Your daughter will have to wait here” and she turned and rushed off.

  John got to his feet and said, “I concur fully. Daughter! God help me,” and went into room 2A.

  Within the minute, the quiet hustle of the department could hear muted laughter emanating from room 2A. Alison had no idea why, but she started to go a very slight tinge of red.

  69

  Saturday 11th June 2011

  Walking back gingerly to the car having been given a reasonable bill of health by the radiology department who had managed to aggravate the pain in his side, John told Alison that he planned to meet Simon regarding the other matter. Having lost a pound coin in the machine while paying an already exorbitant rate to park, she was primed to ruck about anyone or anything. Hannibal had suffered her wrath someday previously, and John didn’t respond to threats or criticism and over the years she had slagged off her Father too many times to mention. Simon was in her sights. Bursting into an outwardly uncontrollable diatribe, she again appraised him of her attitude toward Simon although he noticed that it had mellowed considerably from her first tirade.

  At the conclusion, John said, “I ache a bit so can you drop me off by the St Richard’s Walk footpath at the end of the grace and favour cottages in Cannon Lane? Then you can nip back and park at the nick and return the working copy binder to Paul. It’s only a short stroll for a fit young lady like you to walk back to the café.”