To Die For (DI Sam Cobbs Book 1)

by M A Comley

  “No. He seemed fine to me, just tired. I reckon that was more from demolishing the kitchen than any side effects of the attack.”

  “Ah, right. I thought it was strange you leaving him. I hope he feels better soon.”

  “Thanks, I’ll pass on your best wishes when I speak to him later.” They continued on their journey and entered the incident room. Bob switched on the lights and the equipment while Sam headed for the vending machine. She joined Bob at his desk and handed him his drink. “Something occurred to me last night. Hear me out, I might be talking out of my arse, though, so bear with me.”

  “Go on. Is this to do with the investigation?”

  “Possibly. What if the killer showed up at my house and decided to send a message by roughing up Chris?”

  Bob sat in the chair, placed his hands behind his head and looked up at one of the spotlights in the ceiling. “It’s a distinct possibility. Like giving you a warning to back off, that type of thing?”

  “Yeah. Like I said, it might be me overthinking things.”

  “Did Chris get a good look at the person?”

  Sam perched on the desk next to her partner’s. “Nope, they wore a ski mask, according to Chris.”

  “Hmm… the plot thickens. Want me to check if there have been any other burglaries in your area in the last few months?”

  “Would you? Can you do it first thing, well, after the morning meeting?”

  He dropped his hands and sprang forward in his chair. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll start now. It shouldn’t take me too long.”

  “Thanks, Bob. I’ll be in the office, tending to the dross, as usual.”

  He laughed. “Roger that. I think I’ve got the better deal.”

  She left the door to her office open and heard the rest of the team filter in one by one. The post was heavier than normal this morning and she’d only managed to get halfway through it when Bob poked his head into the room. “All present and correct, awaiting instructions, boss.”

  “I’ll be right out. Do me a favour and get me a coffee, will you? I need more stimulation to get my brain cells working.”

  “Consider it done. What you need is a good fry-up, that would really set you up for the day.”

  She heaved. “Did you have to mention one of those? Bearing in mind I have enough grease clogging up my arteries to sink a battleship at the moment.”

  “Sorry, forgot you were in takeaway hell right now.”

  Sam left her office and they discussed the cases they were working on without anything really rearing its head. “I just don’t know where to turn to next on this one. I’ll chase up the desk sergeant, see if he’s got any news from the house-to-house enquiries.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Bob mumbled.

  “Yep, I was thinking the same. All right, people, let’s dig even deeper, see if we can find something buried that will shake a few trees.” Calling an end to the meeting she returned to her desk to complete her morning duties.

  Around an hour later, an excited Bob bounced into the room. “What’s up?” Sam gestured for him to take a seat.

  He threw himself into it. “Right, first things first. I haven’t managed to find any burglaries listed for your area in the past few months.”

  “Okay, thanks for looking. So what are you so excited about then?”

  “You know a few days ago I rang round the local pawn brokers and antique shops regarding the medals.”

  “Yes. Don’t tell me something has come of it.”

  “All right, I won’t, but I’d be lying. One of the pawn brokers just rang, told me someone was enquiring about pawning some medals the other day. He lost my number and found it on his desk this morning. I told him we’d drop by and see him.”

  Sam was out of her chair and ready to go before he’d finished his sentence. “This could be the lead we’ve been waiting for.”

  He followed her out of the office. They rushed through the building and out to the car. “Do you know where the pawn shop is?”

  “I’ve got a rough idea. Head for Lady’s Walk, I believe it’s in that area.”

  Uncertain of the direction, she prompted, “Postcode to go by?”

  He groaned and looked the shop up on his phone and entered the information himself.

  Sam put her foot down hard on the accelerator when he’d finished. He wasn’t prepared for the jolt and his head slammed against the headrest.

  She burst into laughter.

  “Ha-bloody-ha. I’ll get you back for that.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The shop was in the middle of the precinct; lots of footfall traffic since the threat of Covid had passed. There was the odd person in the crowd still wearing their protective mask. They entered the shop, which was set up more like a post office or a bank with a thick Perspex screen across the counter. There were no customers in the shop.

  “Hello, Mr Mellor. DI Cobbs and DS Jones,” Sam introduced them. “You spoke to my partner earlier, over the phone.”

  “Ah yes. I’ve been expecting you. Can you flip the sign round and drop the catch on the front door for me?”

  “Of course.” Bob did the honours and returned to stand alongside Sam once he’d finished.

  “Can you recap what you know?” Sam enquired.

  “Yes, well, this young man came in here asking what some World War One medals would likely fetch at auction. I told him it would be impossible to tell without seeing what condition they were in. Many people come here, expecting them to be worth a lot, but they’re mostly not worth anything more than scrap metal price at best, not really. A few thousand is the most I’ve ever paid out; luckily, the person was only expecting me to part with a couple of hundred. They were pleased enough. I’m going around the houses, sorry, forgive me, my wife is always nudging me, telling me to get to the bloody point.”

  Sam smiled and said nothing, just let the old fella chunter on for a few seconds until she’d eventually had enough. “So, can you fill in the blanks for us?”

  “I can do better than that. After I chatted with the sergeant here, he mentioned something about using the CCTV footage to try and trace the fella. So I scrolled through it, you know, found the day in question, when the youngster came in to ask, and guess what?”

  “You’ve got an image of this person?” Sam asked, her hope rising.

  “I have. Do you want to come through? I’ll show you what I discovered on the screen.”

  He opened the door at the end of the screened off area and they followed him out through to the office. There were two monitors on a high shelf above his desk. He fiddled with some keys on the keyboard and the screens came to life. “I’m going to do a copy for you, I know you’ll request one after I’ve shown you what’s on it.”

  “Thanks, we’re watching, in your own time.”

  “I’m getting there, all in good time.” He ran the disc and then pointed at the screen showing a tall man entering the shop, brandishing a fake gun.

  “Why pull a gun on you?” Sam murmured, confused by what she was seeing.

  “I said the same, you know, to call his bluff. I could tell it was a fake one, any idiot could.”

  “What was his response?” Sam asked.

  Mr Mellor continued to stare at the screen. “You’ll see in a second.”

  Sam’s attention was drawn back to the monitor, and she looked on in astonishment as the man lowered his gun and placed it on the counter. “Impressive.”

  “I do my best. I like to think of myself as a good negotiator.”

  “A gold star for effort. Shame there isn’t sound on the camera, I’m intrigued to know what the man said.”

  “After he dropped the gun on the counter, I asked him what I could do for him. He said if he got his hands on some World War One medals, would I be interested in taking them off his hands. I said I would, but then I also pointed out that he could get more money if he took them to an auction or an antique shop. He told me he knew all that, he wanted to come
to me instead. Then asked what he could get for them. I told him I would have to see the quality of the items first before I handed out ridiculous quotes.” He paused to take a breath and then ploughed on, “Anyway, he said he would be back soon and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since.”

  “Did he mention where the medals were? How he was going to get his hands on them?”

  “No. That was all. Sorry, I can’t be any more help. What’s he done wrong?” Mr Mellor pressed a key and the disc shot out of the equipment sitting under the monitor. He popped it in a plastic case and handed it to Bob.

  “I’m afraid we can’t really tell you that. Will you ring us if he comes back?”

  “Of course I will. No, wait, there’s more. Not sure what’s wrong with my bloody memory these days, it’s shocking at times.”

  Sam’s interest was truly piqued. It didn’t matter what trivial thing he was about to mention next, it would be a darn sight more than they had already. “What’s that, Mr Mellor?”

  “After he left, I locked up the shop, it was time for my lunch and I was looking forward to my ploughman’s, you see.”

  Sam smiled and willed the man to hurry up. “Did you see something, Mr Mellor?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to get to. I saw the bloke with the hood getting into a white van.”

  Sam’s head snapped around so fast to look at her partner that her neck cricked. She rubbed at it and asked, “Did this van have a logo on the side? Or is that me pushing my luck?”

  Mr Mellor folded his arms and placed the forefinger of his right hand against his cheek as he thought. “Now then, give me a moment to think about this. It was an electrical business, I seem to recall. Smithall’s, or Smithson’s Electricians, something like that. Sorry I can’t think of the correct name.”

  Bob had his phone out and was tapping at the keypad with his thumbs. “I’ve got a Smithson’s Electricals. Does that sound familiar, sir?”

  “Yes, yes, I told you it was something like that. There you go, he set off in the van. If I hadn’t gone to shut up the shop, well, I’d be none the wiser, so it was lucky for you, wasn’t it?”

  “It could be, if it helps us nail the man. Thank you so much for all your help, Mr Mellor.” Sam smiled and turned to leave the shop.

  “Glad I was some help in the end. Not that you’ve told me what this is about.”

  “We can’t at present, sir. I’ll leave you my card, can you ring me if the man comes back?”

  “I will. Answer me this, if you will? Is he dangerous? No, that was a dumb question, of course he is; he tried to pull a gun on me, a fake one at that, but his intentions were clear. I hope you find the bugger soon.”

  “Yes, we believe him to be very dangerous. That’s why we’re keen to track him down. The information you’ve provided us with today should help us immensely to achieve our aim. Goodbye, Mr Mellor.”

  “Oh my, good luck.”

  He unlocked the front door and let them out.

  “What’s the address of the firm, Bob?”

  “Eleven High Street, Workington. It’s just up the road.”

  “I know where it is, I think. Isn’t there a small trading estate at the end?”

  Bob nodded. “There is, you’re right, as usual.”

  They rushed to the car and got in. “I’m not going to use the siren, but I’ll put the lights on, see how effective they are.”

  “Want me to call it in?”

  “Not as such. Ring the incident room, just to let our team know for now, but tell them to stay put. We’ll sound things out and get back to them if we sense we’re in imminent danger.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. I have a macho man of a partner to aid me. Should I get into bother, what more do I need?”

  He looked her way and she chuckled. “I never know when you’re bloody joking or not.”

  “After all this time? Shame on you, Sergeant. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Whatever.” Bob buckled up and sighed.

  Ten minutes later, with the traffic working in their favour for a change, Sam pulled into the yard where the electrical business was situated. There were a number of vans parked up, at least six. “Great, I wonder how many they have out there on jobs at the moment.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “You’re right, for a change. Come on, let’s dive in, see what fish we can attract.”

  They crossed the gravelled car park to the sales office. A woman in her mid-twenties was behind the counter at her desk. She smiled and came towards them. “Hello there, how can I help?”

  Sam and Bob produced their warrant cards. “DI Cobbs and DS Jones, is your boss around?”

  “Oh, I see. Yes, Mr Chapman is in his office. I’ll go and fetch him. He’s bound to ask what this is about, what shall I tell him?”

  “Just mention we’d like a word, thanks,” Sam replied, keeping her answer evasive.

  “Won’t be long. Take a seat.” The receptionist pointed at the couple of plastic chairs behind them.

  “Thanks.”

  “Damn,” Sam muttered. “We should have got a still of the bloke from the CCTV.”

  Bob grinned and extracted his phone. “I did.”

  “Why didn’t I see you take that?”

  “Because sometimes, just sometimes, I’m capable of not only doing things off my own bat, but I can also be discreet as well.”

  Sam chortled. “Top marks for effort.”

  The young woman returned, along with a tall slim man in a white shirt and black trousers. He seemed flustered or annoyed, Sam had trouble determining which.

  “You wanted to see me? I’m Ben Chapman, I’m the manager of the firm.”

  “Good to meet you, sir. Maybe we’d be better off discussing what we have to say in private, if that’s okay with you?” Sam replied, her gaze drifting over to the receptionist and then back to Chapman.

  “Very well.” He raised the hatch in the counter and stepped aside to let them through. “Come this way.”

  Once they were in his small stuffy office, he removed a couple of chairs from a stack in the corner and placed them in front of his desk. “Take a seat. Can I get either of you a drink?”

  Sam held up her hand. “We’re fine. Thank you.”

  He sat down and intertwined his fingers. “Perhaps you’d care to tell me why you’re here?”

  “With pleasure. It has come to our attention that a member of your staff used a fake weapon, a gun, at a shop in town a few days ago.”

  His head jutted forward and his eyes widened. “What? Is this some kind of joke?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking, sir? This is a very serious enquiry.”

  “Of course it is. Sorry.”

  Sam pressed on. “How many staff do you employ?”

  “Ten men, myself, a deputy manager—it’s his day off—and the receptionist, Jill.”

  “And the men you employ, are they all electricians?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Wait, apart from the one lad, Nathan, who is an apprentice.”

  “We’re going to need their personal information, sir.”

  “I have no objection to that, but you’re going to have to give me more. Like how do you know this person works for me?”

  “He was seen leaving the shop and getting into one of your vans.”

  “Shit! Okay, there’s no getting away from that then.”

  “I’m glad we agree on that front. Sergeant Jones, can you show Mr Chapman the picture we obtained of the member of staff in question?”

  Bob scrolled through his phone and then held it up in front of Chapman.

  “What am I supposed to say to that? It could be a few of them. Do you want me to give you all my staff’s details or just the ones I think the picture could relate to?”

  “Let’s go with all of them and then you can point out the ones you think might match the photo. We appreciate your help,” Sam added with a grateful smile.

 
He left his desk and went to the filing cabinet in the corner of the room. He plucked out a handful of green folders and returned to his seat. As he went through the folders, Bob jotted down the information he began dishing out. From what Sam could tell, nearly all the men lived and worked in Workington, which was a bonus.

  “Right, that’s all of them. Can you show me the picture again?”

  Bob obliged and Chapman withdrew four files from the stack and placed them to the side. “There you are, these four match the grainy photo; well… to my eyes, they do.”

  “That’s good enough for me. And their names are?”

  “Thomas Daley, Bryan Calder, Steve Ridings and Wayne Gillan.”

  “You’ve been super helpful. I don’t suppose any of the men are on site at the moment, are they?”

  He paused to think, as if running through a rota in his mind. “I believe two of them are here, they’re in the process of loading up their vans for a couple of big jobs they’re about to tackle tomorrow. I suppose you’re going to tell me you want a word with them now, aren’t you?”

  She smiled. “We promise not to keep them long.”

  He rose from his seat. “Can you question them in the stockroom?”

  “Of course we can.”

  “Follow me.”

  Sam and Bob joined Chapman at the door and walked through the building with him to where two men were larking about, while they picked out different electrical equipment and placed it in the back of the two vans parked in the bay. She was impressed by the amount of stock there appeared to be on site. Must be an extremely busy firm, might need to keep them in mind for the renovations.

  “Tom, Bryan, have you got a minute?” Chapman called over to the men who instantly stopped what they were doing and came towards their boss. “These are Inspector Cobbs and Sergeant Jones, they’d like a quick word with you.”

  “About what, boss?” The younger of the two men asked.

  “I’ll leave it to them to tell you that. All right if I go back to my office?”

  Sam nodded. “Thanks, we’ll come back and see you once we’ve finished here.” She noticed Bob looking at his phone discreetly and then studying the men to make the comparison.

  Mr Chapman left the area.

  “We’d like to see you gents separately, why don’t we start with you? Your name is?” she asked the younger man.