Deborah has been shown the DNA results that proved it was Armstrong who had been murdered rather than Andrews. She is still refusing to accept the fact.
Coming on now to the Simpsons. As a result of the assistance given to Mr Groves by Gary, there are at the present time fifty plus charges against him of accessory to murder, various fraud offences and the main one, grievous bodily harm to Murray.”
Looking directly at Murray, “Nice to see you back in the land of the living Murray. Welcome to the world of murder enquiries.”
Carrying on, “Sally Simpson has been charged with fifty plus murders and there will be more to come. She is also facing numerous fraud charges. It seems she has started to accept the inevitable and is beginning to assist. There are various other minor offences I won’t bore you all with. Now you are all up to speed on the main charges, I understand Mr Groves requires you all to put your thinking caps on.”
“The floor’s yours Mr Groves” and the CC sat down.
Groves stood up as Prodow was scribbling feverishly in his collection of murder books.
“Ladies and gentlemen. We have some unresolved problems with regards to the murder of George Armstrong. In the past, we have found that consulting team members have resulted in successful conclusions. I appreciate we are no longer in school, but it may assist to see and hear individuals if they raise their hands as opposed to calling out. We are willing to consider any response, no matter how outlandish, providing it does not involve the supernatural.”
A small titter ran around the room.
“You all know the small diary which was found by George’s body had nothing written inside it except the word ‘Pois’ which we believe was the start of the word ‘Poisoned’. If anyone has any other thought, now is the time to put it forward.” He looked about the room.
No hands rose.
“Right. It looks like we are all happy with that. How about the broken pencil?”
John looked towards Alison and nodded to her. She raised her hand.
“Yes?”
“The pencil was broken by it being smashed onto the stone slab. A lead mark is clearly seen in the original video footage by the photographer. In the cavity beneath were the papers about Archie Andrews. Maybe in his death throws, George was trying to give us a clue as to who had done it. i.e. Deborah Andrews”
Prodow cut in. “That’s a fair assumption. How would you explain Deborah letting him write the word and then break the pencil?”
“I’m struggling with that.”
Several hands shot up. One of the scientists was amongst them.
Groves pointed to him and said, “Yes. What do you think?”
“She wasn’t there. In some cases, it is possible that a person would take some time to die. Deborah has stated that she put him on the floor and kept her foot on his back until she believed him to have died. He may have passed out and she believed him dead and left. Then he came round and wrote in the diary and broke the pencil. She is adamant that she did not even see the diary.”
Groves looked at Prodow and said, “I like that. That then beggars the thought: where and how did he get such an old and out of date diary?”
No hands. Groves was about to move on when he noticed a young uniform officer towards the back of the room with his hand hovering about level with his shoulder. It hadn’t gone right up, but nor had it gone down. He obviously wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. Do you have an idea?” Groves pointed directly at him.
“PC Abrahams sir. I don’t know really if it’s relevant or not.”
“Go for it,” came the reply from the CC.
“I was one of the original PoLSA team. I was the officer who bagged the diary. When I put it in the exhibit bag, I noticed the cover was coated in dust. As I was searching under the electric fire in the fire place, I saw loads of dust. I have a feeling that there was a little square with no dust in. Maybe the diary was under the fire?”
Prodow was scribbling for all he was worth.
“Did you disturb the dust?”
“I don’t think so.”
Groves looked about the room for a SOCO and the photographer. “Gents your services are required. Jimmy. Where are you?”
“Here gov. I’ll arrange it ASAP” and he sat back down next to a pretty WPC.
“Don’t be shy people. That is the sort of thing we need to hear.”
“Good work Abrahams” from the CC was praise indeed.
“Anyone else got any thoughts about it?”
No one else twitched.
Groves asked, “Our next problem PC Abrahams is why did he have Andrews documents and the firearm?”
“I’m sorry sir. I don’t know.”
“Shame. You were doing so well.”
Paul said, “Doreen, Murray and I had a vague idea about that.” He was above raising his hand.
“Yes?”
“We know Andrews died during the war when he had been on a train going to Pompy. Armstrong had made it known at sometime that he had been on a train that had been bombed. The media found that out. If they had been on the same train, in the confusion George may have picked up Andrews things. Overall, we have come to the conclusion it is something that will remain unsolved.”
“Anyone want to add their thoughts?” Groves looked about the room.
No one responded.
“Another niggling little problem is the matter of the key found in the Micra of Haskland by PC Robertson. Deborah has told us it was on the hook at the rear of the garage. Yet Jimmy has a key also. Anyone know where it came from?”
A hand shot up.
“Go on?”
“PC Britlan sir. I was the first officer at the scene. Mr Chaplain had gone into the bungalow using his key. He was a keyholder for Mr Armstrong in cases of emergency.”
“Thank you. That clears that up.”
Groves looked at Prodow. “I think that covers our main problems.”
Prodow nodded, but kept writing.
“Now I would appreciate your indulgence in this matter. Please chat amongst yourselves for a few minutes and see if you can come up with any ideas. While you are at it, please also consider the Simpsons and anything you would like to bring up.”
There was a general hubbub for some five minutes before Groves brought the room back to order.
Various ideas were proffered by officers mainly relating to the Simpsons which were duly noted by Prodow who was developing writer’s cramp. Paul jotted a few notes to jog his memory later.
The CC stood up. “Doreen, can you pass my bag please.”
Doreen passed a large bag forward that clinked loudly.
“If anyone of you is teetotal, I recommend you leave now.”
Not one person moved.
Bottles of spirits were placed on a desk and all the glasses that the canteen had were recovered from a cupboard where Doreen and Jimmy had previously stored them.
“Help yourselves people. You all deserve it. I think PC Abrahams gets first look in with a young PC Robertson closely behind. May even follow in his Father’s footsteps one day if he puts his bloody mind to it.”
PC Robertson whispered under his breath, “Thanks Dad” which elicited a few laughs from those immediately seated around him.
“One word of caution. Do not get nicked for drink driving. I won’t bail you out.”
158
Sunday 3rd July 2011
John listened intently to what Graham said. It was a satisfactory result all round. The CC of the West Midlands was dead as was Nicholas. No more leaks going North to Birmingham from London. Graham was to take control of the West Midlands Constabulary with due haste on 11th July.
“I’m looking forward to it John. I’ve been up to see how things are going. I have told them I will be making changes. The IPCC have been investigating the murders committed by the rogue DCI and have good as finalised their conclusions. It looks like they are saying he had some sort of mental problems.”
> “What about his murder?”
“They have solved that. They know it was Grigoriev from the three main witnesses and the hospital CCTV. His photo has been plastered in every newspaper up there and on all the TV channels. They have issued a warrant for his arrest. Mind: it looks like he’s legged it to America. The only thing they haven’t got clear is a motive. They know, or should I say believe, that he was acting on behalf of the CC. That does not seem to be troubling them though.”
“Do you think Simon will feature at all in any of the investigations in Birmingham?”
“From what I’ve been told so far, he hasn’t featured anywhere. It looks like they concluded rather quickly that the killer was without doubt the DCI and his killer Greg. They seem to be trying to wrap the case up asap.”
“That would be a good result.”
“I think so.”
“What happened to RD?”
“Last I heard, he was at death’s door in hospital. One of the uniform PCs who found him on the floor, untangled all his bedding and accidentally pulled out the drip which was keeping him alive.”
“He won’t be missed.”
“I’m sure there will be someone ready to step into his shoes. There invariably is.”
“What about his wife?”
“Jacqueline. She’s staying put in New York. IPCC is trying to have her extradited. Doubt whether they will get too far with that.”
Alison would like to see her come back. She has decided that she was the person responsible for her kidnapping.”
“She may well be right. I think the only person alive who knows the complete truth is Simon. He may choose to tell her one day. He may even tell us, but I think it unlikely.”
“You know they are seeing a lot of each other?”
“She’s told me. I like the idea. So does Ginger and his missus. I think he might actually be able to keep her under control.”
“Two hopes!” John quipped.
“You are probably right there. What’s happening with the two serial killers you’ve unearthed?”
“I’ve lost track of how many they have killed. It’s about fifty at the last count and loads of others seriously injured. The enquiry will run for months.”
“You going to stay in Sussex or head back to the Yard?”
“I don’t know yet. I miss the Yard.”
Graham understood what he meant. When he had left the Met for the City, he often thought of all the good times he had there.
“How has the incident at the Home Office gone down?”
“The PM went ballistic and threatened to expel the whole South African consulate staff. I think when he calmed down it ended up as a rebuke for the Ambassador and the three remaining killers kicked out of the country. The security service will be dealing with the guard.”
“How did the Home Secretary take it?”
“Overall, not badly. She has promised that she will try and arrange some additional funds for Kent in recognition for what they have done.”
“That would make a lot of people happy.”
159
Sunday 3rd July 2011
As they were speaking, RD was sitting up in his hospital bed in Birmingham’s main hospital. He should have died, and he knew it. There was a nurse straightening his bedding.
“Whenever I have needed hospital treatment in the past, I always went private. What the doctors and you nurses have done for me will be well rewarded. I won’t forget it.”
The nurse paused her ministrations.
“Mr Davies. When you can get out of that bed and walk unaided, that will be reward enough.”
She left his side room. He watched her go. As she shut the door, he picked up a mobile phone that one had purchased for him.
He dialled an American number from memory. It was one he had occasionally used in the distant past. There was the usual delay before he heard the tell-tale single buzz every other second in his ear of the phone ringing over a thousand miles away. It was the middle of the night and the person was disturbed during some scarce, unusual and energetic bedroom pleasures. He checked his caller display and saw an unknown English phone number. Less than a dozen people throughout the world knew his number but when it rang he knew it was lucrative to answer.
Cursing under his breath, he said, “Hold your horses Jackie, I’ve got to answer this. I’ll be back in a minute. Keep it warm.”
Totally naked, he tiptoed out of his bedroom sweating slightly from his exertions, and into his lounge. Collapsing into an easy chair, he pushed the button to answer.
“Mike. It’s Richard. RD.”
“Jesus. I thought you were dead.”
“I’ve been laid low for five years, but I’m back now.”
“Good to hear from you man. What can I do for you?”
“Are you still in the extermination business?”
“Sure am. Might be getting older, but still keep my hand in.”
“I’ve got two for you. One definitely your side of the pond, and the other could be anywhere.”
“Should tell you, the price is a lot higher now from last time. Ten K straight job. Anything else, negotiable.”
“Won’t be a problem. Money to same place?”
“Yep. No change there.”
“It’ll be in your account within the week.”
“Ok. Who’s the first?”
“Jacqueline. Jackie. My traitorous wife.”
Mike glanced towards the bedroom door.
“How do you want it done?”
“I want her to suffer. The longer the better. She’ll be at my pad in Manhattan or screwing some poor sap.”
Mike looked back towards the bedroom.
“Extra Five K and I’ll film it if you want?”
“Sure. You know where to send it.”
Mimicking RD. “Won’t be a problem.”
“The next is a guy in the same profession as yourself, so be careful.”
“Go on?”
“I don’t know him. He was working for Jackie. His name is Greg or Grigoriev. Get hold of some English newspapers. They have pictures of him and full description. Just waste him.”
“Once I find him. It will be done.”
“Cheers Mike.”
“Great to be back doing business with you.”
Table of Contents
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Table of Contents
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
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An Urgent Murder Page 52
