25 June 1986
Mansfield Police Station, Nottinghamshire
It was fast approaching four o’clock in the afternoon.
The results of the interviews with the other residents at Tall Trees were starting to filter back into the MCIU offices.
Danny had called a meeting with Rob Buxton and Brian Hopkirk to discuss their next move.
Danny said, ‘What’s it looking like so far?’
Brian replied, ‘It’s different again from yesterday. Without exception, the boys have been far more willing to talk to us without having a member of staff breathing down their necks.’
‘Any corroboration for the information provided by Tommy Quinn yesterday?’
‘Yes. Two other boys have made statements, mentioning the matron’s special treats. They don’t know much detail about those treats. What they’re saying is that on a number of occasions, Evan Jenkins has been taken out of the home late at night. He then gets to stay in bed all the next day, as well as getting other special privileges.’
‘Do any of the boys have any idea where Evan has been taken?’
‘None.’
‘How are they saying he’s taken out of the home?’
‘Apparently, Tall Trees has a minibus. He’s always taken out in that.’
‘What make is this minibus?’
‘As far as we can ascertain, it’s some kind of Ford Transit.’
‘Has any of the team seen this vehicle?’
‘No, they haven’t. Fran Jefferies told me earlier that there are two garages situated behind the main building of the home. These garages have brand-new, shiny padlocks on.’
‘Are the garages big enough to accommodate a Ford Transit minibus?’
‘Yes, they’re big enough. Fran spotted them yesterday when she was looking for Bill Short, to get his statement.’
‘Right. Speaking of Fran, how’s she getting on with the background checks into Caroline and Bill Short?’
‘She’s come up with some interesting stuff, so far. I spoke with Rob after he’d finished talking to Bethany Jones, and it seems that Fran is ahead of the game. She’s already discovered the reason why they were both asked to leave their last job in Cornwall. It seems that Bill Short was getting complaints about his inappropriate behaviour and lurid comments around the boys. There wasn’t enough to involve the police, but the local authority was satisfied that something untoward was going on. The old no-smoke-without-fire thing. Quite tellingly though, the Shorts didn’t make any fuss or attempt to dispute the decision. They just moved on. They sold up, left the county and obtained the job at Tall Trees.’
‘Didn’t anybody in Cornwall think it might be a good idea to let the authorities in Nottinghamshire know about their reasons for leaving?’
‘They’re not obliged to, so they don’t. It’s crazy.’
‘Well, maybe one day in the not-too-distant future, that sort of information will travel ahead and stop people who commit these crimes flitting from one offence to the next.’
‘That certainly needs to be the case, sir, but I think it will take something horrendous to make it happen.’
‘As horrendous as the murder of an eleven-year-old boy, perhaps?’
Danny was fuming.
He needed to calm down.
He sat down and took a minute.
Neither of the inspectors spoke. They recognised the signs and knew when to stay quiet.
Eventually, Danny said, ‘Unless either of you can give me a good reason not to, I propose that tomorrow morning we arrest Caroline and Bill Short on suspicion of being involved in the murder of Evan Jenkins.’
Rob had anticipated this might be Danny’s next move. He replied, ‘I think it’s too early. I don’t think we’ve got enough for a charge of murder yet, do you?’
‘In all honesty, no, I don’t. I just can’t afford to risk missing the opportunity to seize that Ford Transit. If the vehicle used by the home is the same vehicle that left the tyre tracks in the mud at the deposition site, then we would really be making progress. I’m prepared to gamble. I want to arrest them both and do a full search of the property. That way we can seize the Ford Transit and subject it to a full forensic examination.’
Brian said, ‘I agree, Danny. Every day we delay gives them the opportunity to thoroughly clean down the vehicle and destroy any potential forensic evidence.’
Rob said, ‘Personally, I think there’s more merit in playing it softly-softly. I think initially, we should invite them both in for questioning rather than arresting them and risk getting their backs up. That way, we can get them both to sign financial enquiry consent forms while they’re assisting us with our enquiries voluntarily. At the same time, have the Special Operations Unit execute a Section 8 PACE warrant to search for evidence of a serious arrestable offence. I don’t believe any magistrate would refuse to grant a warrant under these circumstances.’
Danny looked thoughtful and then said, ‘I like that idea, Rob.’
Brian spoke up. ‘I think it’s a good idea, but I think it might fall down around the warrant. I think the magistrates will argue that if you’ve got enough for the warrant, why not just arrest them? The magistrates may see it as a tactic by us to delay the detention period.’
‘It’s a good point, Brian, but I think we should try anyway. Let’s start getting things organised. Rob, I want you to go to court tomorrow morning and swear out a Section 8 PACE warrant as discussed. If we get past that hurdle, then we invite Bill and Caroline Short into the station to assist us with our enquiries. Brian, I want you to arrange for the Special Operations Unit to have a couple of sections on standby to search the property. Speak to Tim Donnelly and the Vehicle Examiners and tell them to be ready. We may need a full lift, to transport the Ford Transit to headquarters for a forensic examination. Let’s get cracking; there’s a lot to organise. Brian, once you’ve contacted the SOU, Scenes of Crime and the Vehicle Examiners, I want you to prepare the operational order.’
‘No problem, sir. Who do you want to conduct the interviews?
‘For Caroline, I’d like Glen Lorimar and Phil Baxter, and for Bill, let’s have Lyn Harris and Simon Paine. I think it’s time to push this enquiry forward.’
The two inspectors left, leaving Danny alone in his office.
His mind was in turmoil. Was he doing the right thing, showing his hand so early? Should he wait and risk losing the possible evidence to be found on the vehicle? Would they even manage to get a warrant at court?
Suddenly, the telephone ringing on his desk snapped him back from his thoughts.
He snatched up the handset and said, ‘MCIU, Chief Inspector Flint.’
A gravelly voice said softly, ‘Hello, Mr Flint.’
Danny said, ‘Who is this?’
‘I’m shocked you don’t remember me, Mr Flint. It’s Stevie Finch.’
Trying not to show his shock at receiving a telephone call, out of the blue, from one of the biggest drug dealers in Nottinghamshire, Danny said, ‘And what have I done to deserve this pleasure, Stevie?’
‘Don’t be like that, Mr Flint. We’ve always got on alright, haven’t we?’
‘I know you haven’t called to exchange pleasantries, so what do you want?’
‘I need to talk to you about something I’ve heard. I’m not coming into the station. It’s not good for me to be seen talking with the filth. I don’t want to discuss this over the phone either, so we need to meet. Just the two of us.’
It had been four years since Danny had last seen Stevie Finch. At that time, he had organised warrants to arrest several drug dealers, in early morning raids throughout the Mansfield area. The warrants intended to severely disrupt Finch’s criminal operation. Finch had arranged for expensive solicitors for every one of the dealers arrested by Danny.
Three of the dealers had subsequently been found not guilty at court, much to the amusement of Finch, and the disgust of Danny.
Danny said, ‘I’m not in the mood for your games.
What have you heard?’
‘All I’ll say is it’s about that dead kid. I’ll see you on the Lawns Park at Sutton in Ashfield at seven o’clock. I’ll be waiting in the car park near the football pitches. Come alone.’
The phone went dead; Finch had hung up.
Danny was shocked. What could drug dealer Stevie Finch have heard about Evan Jenkins?
There was only one way to find out.
35
25 June 1986
Sutton Lawns Park, Sutton in Ashfield, Nottinghamshire
Danny glanced at his watch as he brought his car to a stop in the car park. There were a couple of other cars already in the small car park, and he could see half a dozen men having a training session on the nearby football pitches.
It was now almost seven o’clock.
Where was Finch?
Danny heard the roar of a motorcycle engine and looked over his shoulder as a brand-new Yamaha FZR400 pulled into the car park and stopped behind his car.
The leather-clad rider wore a full-face helmet with a tinted visor. He got off the motorcycle, walked slowly towards Danny’s car, and tapped on the passenger door window.
Danny reached over and unlocked the door.
Only when he had sat in the car did the motorcyclist remove his crash helmet.
Danny said, ‘Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, Stevie?’
Finch said in a voice little more than a gravelly whisper, ‘Do you have any idea how risky this is for me to be meeting you? Some people I know just wouldn’t understand that I’m here to do a good thing.’
‘And what exactly is that?’
‘I’ve heard some disturbing rumours around that dead kid from Blidworth.’
‘Go on.’
‘I keep hearing whispers that a certain individual nicknamed “the Pope” has been regularly supplying a staff member at the home that kid was from.’
‘Supplying what?’
‘Drugs, the hard stuff.’
‘Do you know which staff member?’
‘The matron.’
‘What’s that got to do with the dead kid?’
‘It’s what she does with the drugs that’s a concern. It’s here where the info gets a bit vague, and I don’t know exactly what that is.’
Danny grimaced at the lack of clarity and said, ‘Who’s “the Pope”?’
Finch shrugged his shoulders. ‘I thought you’d know.’
‘The only person I know who was sometimes referred to as “the Pope” was that no-mark, Billy Monk.’
‘I couldn’t confirm or deny that, Mr Flint. I’m not a grass.’
‘Monk isn’t a dealer; he was a runner at best, over in Newark.’
‘You’ve been behind a desk on that fancy murder squad for too long. You’ve lost touch with what’s happening out here on the street.’
‘So enlighten me. Has Monk changed?’
‘He’s a top-level dealer now.’
‘So there we have it. The reason for the call, the reason for this meeting. You want rid of a rival, and you want me to do your dirty work for you.’
‘I can understand why you would think that, Mr Flint, but you’re wrong. This is about what happened to that dead kid. If the rumours I’m hearing are true, it needs to be stopped. That evil cow needs to be stopped.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve said enough. Look closely at “the Pope” and you’ll find the answers.’
Finch replaced his helmet, closed the visor and got out of the car.
Danny heard the powerful motorcycle start up and race out of the car park.
36
25 June 1986
Mansfield Police Station, Nottinghamshire
Danny walked back into the MCIU offices and wasn’t surprised to see Rob Buxton still hard at work.
As he walked through the office, Danny said, ‘Come in here for a second, Rob.’
Rob walked into Danny’s office and closed the door.
Danny said, ‘Grab a seat. I’ve just had a very strange meeting with Stevie Finch.’
‘The Stevie Finch?’
‘Yeah. He phoned out of the blue and wanted to meet me somewhere private. It was all very cloak-and-dagger. He told me that Billy Monk has been supplying the matron at Tall Trees with class A drugs.’
‘Bloody hell! The name Monk does ring a bell.’
‘He was a low-level street dealer, but Finch says he’s now a much bigger fish.’
‘Do you think it’s a bullshit story to get us to take out a drugs rival?’
‘That’s exactly what I thought, but then he said something strange at the end of our chat.’
‘What?’
‘He said that what happened to the boy was wrong, and that it needed to be stopped … she needed to be stopped.’
Rob was thoughtful for a second. ‘Billy Monk’s a Newark boy, isn’t he?’
‘He was when I last heard about him.’
‘You need to speak to Detective Sergeant Malky MacLaine at Newark CID. What he doesn’t know about Newark villains isn’t worth knowing.’
‘I know Malky. He’s a good detective, but a bit of a loose cannon, as I remember.’
‘He’s definitely that, but he knows every criminal in Newark, and as you say, he’s a bloody good detective.’
Danny grabbed the phone and dialled the number for Newark CID, ‘Let’s see if he’s at work, shall we?’
The telephone was answered on the third ring. ‘DC Finn, Newark CID.’
Danny said, ‘DC Finn, it’s Chief Inspector Flint from the MCIU. Is DS MacLaine there?’
The next voice on the telephone had a broad Scottish accent. ‘DS MacLaine speaking.’
‘Malky, it’s Danny Flint at the MCIU. What can you tell me about Billy Monk?’
The Scot laughed and said, ‘Are you psychic, boss? The only reason I’m working late tonight is to set up a surveillance operation on Monk tomorrow morning. We’ve had a tip-off from an informant that he’s going to be travelling back from Manchester tomorrow morning with a load of gear.’
‘What time’s your op tomorrow?’
‘I’m briefing the guys at six in the morning at Newark nick. I want to be set up for seven o’clock and intercept the wee shite as he travels back into the county. He’ll be easy enough to spot. He always uses the same route, and he’s currently driving a lairy, gold-coloured Ford Capri. My plan is to stop the vehicle as he’s approaching Newark. Once he’s stopped, I’ll search him and the vehicle under the Misuse of Drugs Act. If the information I’ve been given is right, it should be a substantial seizure. If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what’s your interest in Monk?’
‘I’ll explain everything in the morning, Malky. Me and DI Buxton will be joining you at Newark for the six o’clock briefing.’
‘Right you are, boss. Don’t be late, or we’ll leave without you.’
37
25 June 1986
Bilsthorpe, Nottinghamshire
The two detectives from Newark Division drove onto the car park of the Limes Café on the Old Rufford Road.
Malky MacLaine had always been considered a loner and a maverick by other detectives on the CID.
The straight-talking Scot had moved to Nottinghamshire from Glasgow when he was seventeen and had joined the police force when he was twenty.
MacLaine shunned the suits and ties normally worn by members of the CID and came to work in old ripped jeans and an equally battered leather jacket. He had long blonde hair down to his shoulders and a full beard. His methods were as unusual as his attire, but he got results. His bosses turned a blind eye to some of his more irregular ways, because he locked up criminals on a regular basis.
The key to his success was the vast network of informants he ran. It had been said that Malky ran as many informants as the rest of the division put together.
DC Jimmy Finn, who was next to him in the car, was more than happy to go along for the ride with his maverick sergeant. He had also taken to dressing i
n the same casual manner, and was developing his own string of informants.
After receiving the telephone call from Danny Flint the night before, Malky MacLaine had initially been concerned. That had all changed when the two senior detectives from the MCIU had turned up early for the briefing that morning. After listening to the briefing, Danny had taken MacLaine to one side and told him about Monk’s possible involvement in the murder of a young child at Blidworth.
MacLaine hadn’t been surprised by the information. Monk was a drug dealer who had no scruples about passing his poison on to anybody who had the money.
Heroin was only just starting to flood into the Newark area. One of the main reasons for the new and sudden influx was the supply chain developed by Billy Monk. He had forged links with Manchester gangsters anxious to tap into a relatively new market.
The convoy of nondescript cars used for the operation had followed Monk after he had entered the county.
The gold Capri had been driven from the motorway and then across country to the Limes Café. According to the informant who had passed on the information, this was part of Billy Monk’s routine. Monk was partial to a full English after a drugs run from Manchester, and the Limes Café was his favourite venue.
It was early, and the breakfast trade was booming at the popular café, so Monk never noticed as four other vehicles pulled in behind him into the busy car park.
Looking relaxed and pleased with himself, Monk locked his Capri and walked into the café.
Monk was a squat, powerful-looking individual with crew-cut hair and a badly broken nose. He was wearing a black cargo coat and blue jeans.
Finn asked, ‘What do you think, Sarge? Should we take him now?’
‘I’ll ask the DCI and see what he thinks?’
He picked up his radio and said, ‘DS MacLaine to DCI Flint. Shall we take him here, while we’ve got the vehicle safely stopped?’
Danny replied, ‘As soon as he gets near the Capri again, take him down. Let him get the keys out first.’
A Cold Grave: A DCI Danny Flint Book Page 13
