A Cold Grave: A DCI Danny Flint Book

by Negus, Trevor

  It led into a small bathroom that contained a white toilet, a handbasin and a bathtub.

  Everything in the bathroom was absolutely spotless.

  The cottage was in such a state of disrepair everywhere else, it was strange to be suddenly confronted with such a pristine, bleach-cleaned bathroom.

  Rob said in a low voice, ‘Somebody’s certainly given this room the spring clean of the century.’

  ‘I’m getting a bad feeling about this place, Rob. Let’s have a look in the bedrooms.’

  Stepping out of the bathroom, Danny turned right. He opened the door and stepped inside the first bedroom. Again, there was the strong smell of bleach and disinfectant. There wasn’t a speck of grime or dust to be seen. No cobwebs in this room.

  Danny noticed a light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

  ‘Flick the light switch, Rob.’

  Using the knuckle of his middle finger, Rob flicked down the light switch near the door. The light bulb flickered into life.

  Danny said, ‘If the property’s derelict and unoccupied, why’s the electricity still connected?’

  ‘Good question. What it does mean, though, is that there’ll be a utility bill somewhere, and it’s being paid by somebody.’

  ‘When we get back to the office, I want you to find out everything you can about Mayflower Cottage. Check with the Land Registry and find out who’s listed as the current owners. Make enquiries with the utility companies and find out who’s paying for the electricity. Somebody’s gone to a lot of effort to obliterate all trace of anyone being here. Do you know if the crime squad detectives took any photographs during the surveillance?’

  ‘They did. When they followed the targets down here on foot, one of them had the presence of mind to grab a camera.’

  ‘Have they got photographs of Short and Mellor carrying cleaning gear into the cottage?’

  ‘As far as I know, yes. I haven’t seen any of the photographs yet, but I’m told they made full use of the camera they had with them.’

  ‘That’s bloody brilliant! Remind me to buy that detective a beer.’

  Danny stepped across the landing and into the other bedroom. The layout of the room was the same as the first, just slightly smaller. Again, there was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Danny flicked the switch, and again the light came on.

  Danny switched off his Dragon light and shouted, ‘Tim, can you come upstairs, please?’

  Tim Donnelly came up to the first floor and was surprised to see the lights on.

  He said, ‘That’s interesting. Somebody forgot to remove the light bulbs. Once they’ve cooled down, I’ll get them printed. It’s not very often people remember to put gloves on to change a light bulb. We might just get lucky there.’

  Danny said, ‘Tim, this place has obviously been bleached to death. Is it possible to take samples that would identify the type of bleach used to sterilise the place?’

  ‘It’s a good question. I can find out. We’ll definitely be able to get the samples, and I’m guessing the lab would be able to identify the separate chemical components that make up the bleach used. Whether that chemical make-up differs between brands of bleach, I don’t know. It’s something we can certainly try.’

  ‘It’s important. If the crime squad have got photos showing Bill Short and Councillor Mellor carrying in the bleach that’s then found all over the cottage, they’re going to have some difficulty explaining their reasons for cleaning up a derelict property.’

  ‘I’ll get on it straightaway. I’ll arrange for a team to join me here, and we’ll carry out a full forensic examination of the cottage.’

  Danny turned to Brian. ‘Can you stay here with Tim and his team, please? I want you to keep me informed of the progress. I’ll get Fran Jefferies to bring a car out for you.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Danny turned to Rob. ‘We’ll get back to the office. I want you to start doing the enquiries into Mayflower Cottage. My instincts are telling me this is the place where Evan Jenkins was abused and killed. There’ll be a connection between this property and Caroline Short somewhere. We just need to find it.’

  60

  29 June 1986

  Rampton Hospital, Nottinghamshire

  It had been another long day in what had been a long week for Tina Prowse and Rachel Moore.

  With little else to go on, they had returned to Rampton Hospital and began to reinterview the staff. They spoke to everyone who had, in any way, been involved in the care and supervision of Jimmy Wade.

  The hospital had allocated them a room to do the interviews. It was spartan and contained just a table, four chairs and a telephone.

  If they wanted to interview a staff member, they had to contact the hospital admin department on the telephone. The administrators would then arrange for the staff member to be sent to their room. This arrangement allowed the two detectives to carry out their enquiries without the need for hospital staff to accompany them around the various departments of the maximum-security hospital.

  It wasn’t ideal, but it was practical, and it worked.

  Rachel glanced at her watch; it was now almost four thirty in the afternoon.

  She said to Tina, ‘What’s the name of Wade’s social worker?’

  Tina flicked through her notes and replied, ‘Stewart Ainsworth, why?’

  ‘It’s only half past four; we’ve still got time for one more. Let’s see if Mr Ainsworth’s at work today.’

  Tina nodded and phoned the admin department.

  Having made the call, she said, ‘He’s at work, but he finishes his shift in thirty minutes. Admin are sending him over to us now.’

  Five minutes later, there was a quiet tap on the door.

  Tina said, ‘Come in!’

  The door opened, and the tall, skinny social worker stepped inside.

  He said nervously, ‘I’m Stewart Ainsworth. The admin secretary said you wanted to see me?’

  Rachel smiled and said, ‘Come in and take a seat, please, Stewart. This won’t take long. I’m Detective Constable Rachel Moore, and this is Sergeant Tina Prowse. We’re currently investigating the escape of Jimmy Wade. We’re talking to everyone who had any involvement with Wade while he was incarcerated here. Our understanding is that you were his allocated social worker. What were your duties in relation to Wade?’

  Ainsworth, having sat down opposite the detectives, flicked back his lank brown hair, grinned affably and said, ‘It was my role to look after his general welfare. Any issues he may have had, he could talk to me about them. It’s a role designed to assist the patients to settle into the regime of imprisonment. Most of the patients here have been sentenced to life imprisonment. If not a whole life sentence, then most of them are here detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Either way, they’re destined to be locked up here for most of their lives, if not all their lives. This can be a very frightening and daunting prospect.’

  Tina said, ‘How did you get on with Jimmy Wade?’

  ‘Wade was okay. He settled quickly into the routine of the hospital.’

  ‘Did he have any issues at all? When he first arrived, maybe?’

  ‘Not that I recall. He very much kept himself to himself. He didn’t mix with the other patients much.’

  Rachel said, ‘Stewart, we’ve been here a couple of days now. We’ve spoken to quite a few members of staff, and we’ve heard reports that some of the nursing staff were quite heavy-handed in their approach to Wade.’

  ‘What do you mean heavy-handed?’

  ‘The inference being that Wade was physically assaulted on several occasions. It’s also inferred that these assaults were carried out by two male nurses in particular. Did Wade ever make a complaint of assault to you?’

  ‘Not that I remember.’

  Rachel continued, ‘Specifically, did Jimmy Wade ever complain to you about being assaulted by either Fred Barnes or Jack Williams?’

  ‘No, he did not. I never took any reports of assault from Jimmy
Wade.’

  ‘If you had received such a report, what would you have done?’

  ‘If any patient reports an assault to me, I’m obliged to make a written report of the allegation. That report would outline the details of the assault. I would then raise the matter with the line manager of the member of staff the allegation relates to.’

  ‘But Jimmy Wade never made any such allegations? Specifically, against Barnes and Williams?’

  ‘No, he didn’t. I never saw Wade with any injuries.’

  ‘How well do you know Fred Barnes and Jack Williams?’

  ‘Obviously, I know them both from working here. I do, on the odd occasion, see Jack Williams outside of the work environment. We’re of a similar age and have been out for a beer together. Why?’

  ‘Are they your mates?’

  ‘Not particularly, why?’

  ‘Would you cover for them?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Would you ever turn a blind eye to an assault on a patient?’

  ‘No, never, and I resent the insinuation.’

  ‘Okay. I want to take a written statement from you, outlining exactly what you’ve told us.’

  ‘I’ve no problem about doing that, Detective, but would it be possible to make the statement tomorrow morning? I’m on a day shift again tomorrow. The only reason I ask is because I’m supposed to be going on a first date with a new girlfriend this evening. I really don’t want to stand Melissa up, especially not on the first date. It would be so rude, and there’s no way I could get a message to her.’

  Tina said, ‘That’s okay, Stewart. We won’t hold you up this evening. This will keep. It’s our day off tomorrow, but we’re back on duty the day after. Are you working then?’

  ‘I’m on the same shift all week. The day after tomorrow, I’ll be starting work at nine o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll see you the day after tomorrow, at nine thirty sharp. I don’t want you to miss your date with … whatever her name is.’

  Stewart interjected and said, ‘It’s Melissa.’

  Tina continued, ‘That’s right, Melissa. Please take the time to have a good think about what we’ve discussed this afternoon. I would hate for you to say something that was later proved to be a lie. Do you understand me?’

  ‘I understand, Sergeant. I won’t be changing anything. I’ve told you the truth. I wouldn’t cover for anybody; I’d lose my job.’

  Rachel said, ‘That’s good. We’ll see you soon.’

  Ainsworth stood up and hurried out of the room before the detectives could change their minds.

  For one horrible moment, he’d thought he was going to miss out on his hot date with the very sexy Melissa Braithwaite. As he jogged along the corridor, he found himself smiling, just thinking about her.

  Back in the interview room, Tina said, ‘What do you think about Stewart Ainsworth?’

  Rachel curled her lip. ‘He’s a bloody liar. He knows Barnes and Williams have assaulted Wade; he just hasn’t taken the report. Basically, he’s covered for them.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll change his story and say that the next time we see him?’

  ‘Not a chance. Like he said earlier, if he had covered for them, he’d lose his job. While ever there’s no sign of Barnes and Williams to contradict his account, Ainsworth will stick to his bullshit story. He won’t change his mind.’

  ‘I think you’re right. It won’t do any harm, letting him have a couple of days to think about it. Come on, we’re off tomorrow. Let’s call it a day.’

  61

  29 June 1986

  Mansfield Police Station, Nottinghamshire

  Danny felt nauseous.

  Ever since he’d arrived back at the police station and sat alone in his office, thoughts of the derelict cottage flooded his mind.

  All he could see were images of Evan Jenkins being abused by faceless men.

  The boy’s face was contorted in agony, his mouth wide open, letting out a silent scream.

  A knock on his office door banished the horrifying image to the back of his mind for the moment. The detective knew it was a nightmare that would reoccur.

  ‘Come in!’

  The door opened, and a beaming Andy Wills came in.

  ‘Boss, I’ve cracked the telephone numbers! Well, to be honest, my new best mate, Gareth, has cracked the numbers.’

  For a split second, Danny looked blank. ‘Numbers?’

  ‘The list of numbers in the address book recovered from Caroline Short. You remember, they looked like phone numbers, but were all showing as dead lines.’

  ‘Right. Those numbers. Come on then, you’re looking suitably pleased with yourself. Tell me what’s happened.’

  ‘I took your advice and contacted British Telecom for assistance. They sent their top engineer from Swansea to have a look at them. I’ve got to tell you, boss, Gareth Church is a bloody genius. He spent four hours trying different permutations before he cracked it. It was like watching one of them codebreakers at Bletchley Park, in the Second World War. Bloody amazing!’

  ‘That’s all well and good, but do the numbers mean anything now?’

  ‘Okay, this is how he cracked it. He swapped the last digit of each of the numbers with the third digit. Then the first digit with the second-from-last digit, and hey presto! Each number then related to a telephone number that is listed on the network. A couple of them are ex-directory, but they’re all live lines. It was an ingenious code, but at the same time, remarkably simple.’

  An exasperated Danny said impatiently, ‘But do the telephone numbers relate to people we know?’

  Andy grinned. ‘Oh yes! Two of them leap off the page at you. Councillor Lenny Mellor and Grenville Slater are both on the list.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes. You heard me right.’

  ‘Why would you need your solicitor in a coded list? Why not just have his office number?’

  ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  ‘What about Councillor Mellor’s? Is that his office number?’

  ‘No. His is one of the ex-directory numbers. It’s registered to his home address.’

  ‘What about the other numbers?’

  ‘I’m still researching them. So far I’ve got ten people, including Slater and Mellor. Within that group of ten, there’s a vicar from a Methodist church just over the border in Derbyshire, an anaesthetist from a hospital in Chesterfield, a pit deputy, two factory workers and three local businessmen, one of whom is an estate agent in Mansfield.’

  ‘Did you say there’s an anaesthetist on that list?’

  ‘The initials W.B. relate to a man called William Baxter. His home address is just outside South Normanton in Derbyshire. He works as an anaesthetist at Chesterfield General Hospital.’

  ‘Do you remember the toxicology from the post-mortem? The drugs that were found?’

  As if to answer his own question, Danny quickly scanned through his enquiries log and said, ‘Here they are, thiopentone and suxamethonium.’

  Andy nodded. ‘I remember.’

  ‘What’s the betting that William Baxter has access to these drugs as part of his work?’

  ‘I’d say the odds would be rather good. I’ll look into it, as a priority.’

  ‘Thanks, Andy. Are the rest of the names on the list all men?’

  ‘Every single name on that list is a man.’

  ‘Our paedophile ring?’

  ‘Could be, boss.’

  ‘That’s brilliant work. Have BT charged us for their engineer?’

  ‘No, they haven’t. Gareth was good enough to come up here on his day off.’

  ‘I want to meet him before he goes back to Swansea. I’d like to say a massive thank you.’

  ‘He’s already gone. He had to leave straight away, wanted to get home to his family.’

  ‘Okay, that’s a shame. Remind me to draft a letter of thanks to his bosses. In the meantime, grab Phil Baxter and Simon Paine. I want the three of you to start
researching each of the names on that list. I want to know everything about these men by tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Andy hurried out of the office, leaving Danny alone with his thoughts.

  Maybe those anonymous, faceless men in his nightmare would soon have names, identities – and more importantly, faces.

  Danny was deep in thought.

  Things were moving quickly now. Depending on the enquiries about the cottage, and now Andy’s enquiries on the names from the numbers list, he might have to consider an early arrest for Caroline and Bill Short.

  62

  29 June 1986

  South Lodge, Retford

  As Stewart Ainsworth drove his rusting Fiat Uno along the secluded, tree-lined lane that led to Melissa Braithwaite’s stone cottage, his mind drifted to the time, three months ago, when he’d been tasked with the enquiry at South Lodge. That was when he’d first met the pretty student studying for her master’s in psychology.

  It had been a routine visit, to ascertain the reasons why she was regularly visiting Jimmy Wade at Rampton.

  He’d been instantly taken by the petite blonde with the wonderful curves and had often racked his brains trying to think of an excuse to revisit her.

  Melissa Braithwaite absolutely oozed sex appeal.

  He’d been shocked, amazed and excited in equal measure when he’d received the phone call from her. It was completely out of the blue. Now, as he drove along the lane, he could feel a rising sense of boyish anxiety stirring within.

  He desperately wanted this evening to go right. He felt a strong attraction towards her that he wanted to continue. He didn’t want the date tonight to be a one-off.

  As soon as he finished work, he’d rushed home, showered and had a quick shave. He had maybe used a little too much Paco Rabanne, aftershave and deodorant spray. Better too much than not enough, he thought.

  He had carefully chosen a freshly laundered, light blue Lacoste polo shirt, faded Levi’s jeans and a pair of brown loafer shoes. He’d then checked himself out in the full-length mirror at his flat. He knew he looked good.