Shortly after 8.30am, Simon was brought out of the semi-comatose state that he had adopted some hours earlier to conserve energy, when he saw a silver vehicle on the track approaching the barn. Raising the binoculars, and speaking quietly to the recorder, he watched as the Saab stopped and Petrovski got out of the passenger side and removed one of the sticks with the cotton attached and threw it onto the track. The vehicle continued on to the muddy and gritted parking area outside the barn, and the smaller man alighted. Simon watched as he seemed to scour the ground leading to the entrance of the barn. It was clear that he was looking for his footprints which Simon knew were not going to be found as he had previously taken the trouble to erase them. Even in the moonlight, when he had approached the barn earlier, it was clear to him that the ground had been dampened deliberately and all tyre and footmarks were missing. Apparently satisfied, the smaller man pulled a puffa type coat from the car before he strolled into the outbuilding.
Turning the binoculars back to Petrovski, Simon saw him crouched down on his haunches looking at the small screen on the recorder that he had uncovered. Petrovski did not have the stamina to stay crouched too long and soon stood up seemingly bored with his duty. He was less than diligent as he occasionally raised his head and looked about as the recording continued unobserved. There was no sign that he had noticed or seen anything amiss, and before it was possible for the video to have played right through: Petrovski was resetting it, and hiding the monitor. Sullenly, he started the short walk along the track to the barn, hands buried deep in his pockets.
On reaching the car, he got into the passenger seat and started fiddling with the radio before lying back in the seat. It was a full fifteen minutes later that the smaller man left the outbuilding and ignoring the now sleeping ‘gorilla’ in the passenger seat, took a bottle of water and a paper plate covered with foil from the back seat and walked into the barn. Twenty-five minutes later, he was back out with an empty plate which he tossed from the driver’s door into the rear of the vehicle with his coat before settling behind the steering wheel. The ‘gorilla’ wound the seat up to a normal sitting position and then got out of the car which moved to the track before stopping.
Simon could not understand what had delayed the little man in the outbuilding and was racking his brain as to what he had seen in there. The generator and the other equipment could easily be checked in a couple of minutes. Had he missed a hidden item? Then he thought about twenty-five minutes in the barn. He wouldn’t have watched Alison through the spy hole for that long.
‘What the hell is he up to? What have I missed?’ Now he became anxious. Wide awake and worried, he was starting to imagine he’d missed a camera.
Still keeping the binoculars glued to his eyes, Simon watched as Petrovski dragged his foot over the tyre marks and then went to the outhouse, and walking backwards to the barn, dragged his foot over all the footprints he saw. On reaching the Saab, he got in, and it started back along the track. When it was level with the camera, it stopped and both men got out. Petrovski walked the few paces and replaced the sticks with the cotton, and the smaller man went to the camera.
Uncovering the monitor, he watched it for a minute before summoning Petrovski to him and pointed across the track and then reset the camera clearly chastising him. As Petrovski set about secreting the monitoring equipment, the smaller man crossed the track and walked a few yards back towards the barn and then turned and walked towards the road. He was still looking for footprints. A man Simon was beginning to develop a begrudging admiration for with regards to his thoroughness.
Simon had been cautious but had not checked for any tell-tale footprints in the mud at the side of the track. The two cameras had drawn his complete attention to the detriment of the basic simple things. Was that the intention the little man had wanted the cameras to have? Chastising himself for his stupid ignorance he vowed to be more thorough. His old instructor would have probably had apoplexy if he knew how laid back he had become. When night fell he would prioritise a full search of the outhouse and the barn before anything else.
He knew he had kept off the ridges and stayed in the furrows as the mud within them was mainly solid because the sun had been prominent for several days baking the soil solid. Where it was in shade nearer the barn, it was still slightly damp and footmarks, if there were any, would be more evident. As the night’s activity shot through his thoughts, he became confident that precautions taken by him around the vicinity of the cameras were adequate.
Slowly the smaller man walked back to his car, lent in and pulled out his jacket. Without putting it on, he removed a small pair of binoculars from one of the jacket pockets. The hedgerow by the road was where he focused his attention scanning back and forth. Then he turned, and scanned the fields, several times looking directly towards Simon’s position, but never stopping his traverse. Eventually satisfied, he got back into the vehicle joining Petrovski, and left pausing only for Petrovski to hold the hedge open to allow the car to pass through and over the rubble bridge. Simon knew the man was a shrewd adversary, and would have to be treated with the utmost respect.
He felt so much better having seen him take the binoculars from his coat pocket.
88
Monday 13th June 2011
John was in the canteen earlier than usual sitting half dozing in his normal chair trying to work out a scenario as to how he could explain his presence in Angmering and his potential computer enquires with regards to Masters. The best way was to keep it honest: just don’t mention the bug. He saw and recognised the rear of the van and was able to follow it which was true in a fashion. Without any input from him, the cook brought him breakfast placing it on the table in front of him.
She stood facing him and said, “You’ve got to get some sleep. You’re looking older by the day.”
Thanking her, he pointed out she was invariably in the kitchen earlier than his arrival and if she went to bed late, she also lacked sleep.
“How do you stay looking so young?”
“Pond’s face cream. If you used it though, someone would find out in this place and you would attract more men than women.” She laughed at the thought as she wiped some of his table with a dirty looking dish cloth before returning to the preserve that was her kitchen.
In the office, he sat drinking coffee and listening as Paul was explaining to Murray systems of paper and computer filing and the vagaries of major incidents that were essential to all investigations. He moved on to explain the role of the office manager, and the fact that he, (or she) was really the backbone of any enquiry, and should be able to recall statements and facts from memory. If unable to recall a fact, the office manager should be in a position to go straight to the item that would divulge the relevant information. This ability was imperative if the manager was to be trusted by the senior officer leading the enquiry. Paul continued on expounding that the main task was of deputing the various officers attached to the major incident team to conduct specific enquiries as they arose during the course of the investigation.
After he’d finished, he looked at John, Jimmy and Doreen and said, “Did I miss anything?”
John said, “I don’t know. I do what I’m told and that’s the end of it as far as I am concerned.”
“Huh. I wish.”
Doreen was more forthcoming and suggested that Paul explain the system of HOLMES which all Police forces used. Murray said he was fully aware of its existence, but didn’t know precisely how it worked. Still having outstanding commitments at Chichester, Paul and Murray each checked their diaries and agreed a day and time to go to Littlehampton where Paul would show Murray the system in all its glory.
Doreen, having already established Murray’s preference, busied herself making drinks for all present. She had also established that the Sergeant liked to be called Murray: not Sergeant: nor whatever his first name happened to be: just Murray.
With refreshed mugs either in their hands or on the desks in front of them, Paul said, �
�Now when someone has completed an enquiry, they return with the information either on paper which goes in my top tray or they give a verbal account, or both. As you were here at seven this morning, and have noticed that there is no report from anyone in my tray, we must presume we are going to be honoured with a verbal: nay more probably, a verbose account.”
Jimmy said, “Not me.”
“In that case, I presume you are implying me.”
John began his account explaining locating the address in Birdham and describing at first the house and then the two cars on the drive with their index numbers. Continuing, he explained the van’s presence and how he only saw the back of it when it drove past him, and it was only then that he was able to confirm without doubt it was the same one that he had seen some nights previously in Barnham. They were all engrossed with the narrative and their now forgotten drinks were starting to cool down. Stating he was returning to Chichester, he spotted the van and decided to try to follow it. More by luck than judgement, and anticipating some of the circuitous routes taken, he claimed to have seen it arrive in Angmering and noticed it linger at Peter Masters’ house.
When the van had left, John said he was unable to follow it, so he returned to Chichester and using the computer had searched the CAD for the address. He handed a sheaf of papers to Paul.
“To precis: four months back, Masters, who is in his eighties, was found collapsed with severe stomach pains by a neighbour and went to St Richard’s hospital. Three weeks ago, he was found collapsed in his garden and again was taken to hospital. Learned medics appraised him of their opinions as to the reasons for his collapsing which he held to be guesswork at best. When he spoke to his local PC, he couldn’t understand why it had occurred as he had always been fit and healthy. It is worrying that the van was in the locale.”
As if to reinforce his discourse of earlier, Paul asked how John could have got the registration number of the vehicle so badly wrong when first seen in Barnham. Within seconds, they had all agreed that the vehicle used false plates, but could not understand why it hadn’t in Angmering.
To give him a little test, Paul asked Murray “What would you do now?”
Murray was quickly off the mark, “I would bring it immediately to the attention of both Mr Groves and Mr Prodow and seek authority to obtain a search warrant for the house and vehicles. I would arrange a visit to Mr Masters as soon as possible by John and the local uniform officer to confirm his wellbeing and if necessary arrange for his ongoing security. I would ask Mr Prodow for authority to assemble a few of the original officers to conduct the execution of any warrant. I think that’s all to start.”
“Good enough for me. It’s all yours. I’m going to have a big boy’s breakfast for the first time in months” and with that, he left the room.
Murray was on the phone for less than five minutes before asking John if he could get to Angmering to meet the local officer outside Masters’ house without delay.
“Really Murray you shouldn’t ask, you should direct. Other than Doreen; treat us all like your probationers and you’ll get on fine.”
“Then shift yourself. Now.”
“OK” and John downed the dregs of the nearly cold coffee, and left the room. Once inside his car, he turned his Sat Nav on and saw the van was stationary at a small industrial unit between Birdham and Chichester. He knew he had to check it, and accelerated swiftly towards the exit nearly hitting an angry and temporarily bellicose uniform officer in his haste. Hardly slowing at the exit, he swung left and towards the industrial unit in the opposite direction to Angmering. No one followed him.
The unit was surrounded by a sturdy wire fence topped with razor wire, and a substantial metal gate which was wedged open, and by the grass growing around it, had been for some considerable time.
‘So much for security’ he thought as he cruised by. Turning round, he drove back and stopped in a bus stop pull-in and held a piece of paper high enough for anyone observing him to conclude that he was probably lost. He saw there were four separate large prefabricated workshops in a ‘U’ shape facing a central parking area big enough for about twenty cars. Each workshop had a large roller shuttered opening door to accommodate a vehicle the size of a small lorry. Next to each of the workshops was an office with a pedestrian’s door and a window. John could see that two of the units directly faced the entrance from the road and there was a unit at right angles to them at each end. The unit to the left side had the shuttered door raised no more than four feet which was more than John required to see that the van was parked inside. That was all he needed, and he was rapidly off towards Angmering.
89
Monday 13th June 2011
When he arrived, John parked partially on the verge outside the house behind a small blue Kia that was already parked there. Any decent villain in Sussex could have identified the Kia as being an unmarked Police car as it was practically the only small car on the road painted in a non-metallic blue. The middle aged woman sitting in it was on the phone as John parked, and went to the passenger door. Hanging up as he got in, both introduced themselves and she said she had been the local officer for some time and knew Masters from brief visits in the past. She confirmed he was an elderly gentleman who had been active in the community for many years mainly as a local councillor and also an organiser for a group known as U3A. Recently he had resigned from both organisations sighting ongoing medical conditions as the reason. Claire was aware he had suffered from some form of internal problems that had caused him to collapse on two occasions.
Explaining very briefly about the murder of George Armstrong, John told her that enquires had led to Peter Masters, and he needed to ask a few questions without alarming him in any way. She had read, like most of her colleagues, the newspaper reports and seen television news items about the murder and the subsequent arrest of Munroe.
“I thought you had already charged a woman with the murder. How do you come to be here?”
“It’s a bit complicated, but between us it’s possible she didn’t do it and Mr Masters may have succumbed to a similar poison.”
Claire considered the remark and asked that due to his age and frailty, and in order not to worry or distress Mr Masters unduly, that no reference should be made about sudden death. John acceded it was probably wiser not to tell him that he was working on a murder enquiry at all, and he would be vague if questioned as to where he was based.
They both left the vehicle and walked up the gravelled drive towards the front door. On the tile hung frontage of the house towards the apex of the roof, John saw a burglar alarm box. Looking at the one tree in the front garden, he saw about twenty feet up nearly hidden in the lower branches, a bird box. They knocked on the door which was opened within seconds.
A small insignificant man looking older than his eighty-three years dressed in a dark suit which was a bit too big for his frame, stood there. His skin was sallow and loose with no fat to stop it drooping, especially under his chin and his neck. The shirt was clean and although he wore a tie, it was too big around the neck. Grey sunken eyes that had once been clear were now dulled and practically lifeless. White flecks of hair were combed back above his ears as though stuck down with some old fashioned gel. John instantly saw the similarities with George.
Masters smiled engagingly acknowledging Claire as a casual acquaintance, and John introduced himself before both were invited inside. The house was well kept and maintained, and dust was at a minimum. In the hall were small pieces of furniture which had all the hallmarks of being antiques. Entering the lounge, John saw two three-seater settees and five individual upholstered chairs scattered about the room and more furniture of unknown provenance. Peter Masters invited them to sit wherever they felt comfortable which John considered was a little test from a clever and shrewd person. Picking one of the settees, John was glad to see Masters take the other. Claire joined John.
Both engaged with Mr Masters and exchanged pleasantries about the weather and location of nearby
shops before he asked how he could help.
Getting quickly around to the fact he was aware that Masters had collapsed a couple of times, John said, “I’d like if I may to ask some questions and record your information. What I ask may seem trivial but it may help others should they find themselves in a similar predicament to yourself.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can. I consider it part of my obligation to my fellow man to assist in any way possible.”
“Your answers may assist others who need the help of the emergency services. Can you please tell me if you have any relatives?”
“I am aware of only one living relative, and she is a cousin who lives on the South Island of New Zealand. It is possible that there may be others. I have never actually had time to conduct proper research into my ancestry.”
“I have been told by Claire that you were an energetic member of the local council and chairman of the U3A. As a result, you were actively mobile in and around this area of Sussex. Your collapse has apparently forced your resignation from both. Do you consider yourself still as mobile, or are you now housebound?”
Masters paused as he looked at John and his eyes moistened.
“I always considered myself independent and with the ability to get around unassisted. Now, as you succinctly put it, I feel I should remain housebound in order that, should I collapse again, I will be somewhere that will not place too much of a burden on anyone. I’m saying, I will probably die, and I would prefer it to be here.”
Now John paused. Claire stepped in, “I’m sure that won’t happen.”
John continued, “Do you have any form of help: carers for instance?”
“I do. Some obnoxious woman from the Social Services visits once a week. She told me it was a free service that the council provides. I expected to pay towards it, but I have been assured it’s free. News to me.”
“What does she do for you?”
An Urgent Murder Page 28
