by M A Comley
The pub car park was nearly empty when they arrived. “Let’s hope that’s the owner’s car, or that it at least belongs to someone who worked the night Daws was here.” Hero nodded towards a car, the only one sitting on the tarmac, parked close to the back door of the establishment.
They walked around the front of the pub and knocked on the door, and a tall bearded man with a very round beer belly opened it. “Yeah, what do you want? We’re closed for another hour or so.”
“I appreciate that. I’m DI Nelson, and this is DS Shaw. We’d like to ask you a few questions about an incident which happened in the vicinity last night, if that’s all right?”
He studied Hero’s warrant card carefully and thrust open the door so they could enter. He strode over to the large bar and hopped up onto one of the barstools. “All right, what incident are you talking about?”
“We believe one of your regulars was murdered last night.”
The man’s brow furrowed. “Yeah? Which one?”
“A Stuart Daws. Do you know him?”
“Yeah. Man, that’s rough. He seemed in good spirits when he left here last night. Mind you, he was pissed.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Hero saw Julie taking notes. “What time did he leave here? Can you tell us that?”
“Not sure of the exact time. The place was fairly busy last night, it was skittles night. I always put a mini-buffet on, so I was mostly out back in the kitchen.”
“A guess will do then, if you don’t mind. Just so we have a rough idea of when the crime took place.”
“Around seven to seven thirty. How about that?”
“Do you know if there was any kind of trouble in here last night, involving Daws, I mean?”
“Not that I know of. He was buying several of the other regulars drinks. He kept teasing them but didn’t mention where he’d got his windfall from.”
“We know where the money came from. Perhaps you can give me a list of the names of his drinking partners?”
“Sure, I only know them by their first names. I have no idea where they live or anything like that to help you out.”
“That’s okay. Maybe I can get one of my team to come in later and question the regulars, just in case?”
The landlord’s mouth twisted. “If you must. Can you make sure they do it discreetly? You know how it is when folks think the filth…sorry, the police are around? Word will soon spread, and trade will likely drop off.”
“I can assure you my team will be discreet. The names?”
“Let me see…ah, yes, there’s Stan. He was here all afternoon and joined Stuart about fourish. Then there’s Mick. He’s the only one of the three who has a job, so he turned up around five thirty. If you wanna question him, there’s no point turning up before then.”
“I’ll make a note of that, thanks,” Julie said.
Hero handed the man a card. “If you think of anything else, get in touch, yeah?”
The man took the card and placed it in front of a bottle of gin on the bar behind him. “Will do.”
CHAPTER THREE
Back at the station, Hero checked up on the team’s progress and actioned the afternoon’s enquiries. “Lance, I need you to drop in and question a couple of the punters at the New Inn later.” The man started to stand up, but Hero placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down into his chair. “Later, as in on your way home. I think the pub is near your house, isn’t it?”
“Ah, okay, yeah, that’s right, sir. Any specific reason?”
Hero exhaled, showing his annoyance. Lance Powell wasn’t the brightest member of his team. He was the type of officer who needed everything laid out in front of him before he started making any connections in a case.
“The New Inn was the last place our victim was seen alive, Lance. The landlord saw him drinking with two men. The thing is, we haven’t got the surnames of these two men, so our hands are tied with regard to doing any background checks on them until that has been verified. That’s where you come in. First, get their names and addresses then ask them what they know about Daws, not necessarily about his death, just general knowledge. You know, ask if he’s had any bother lately with anyone, that sort of thing. His wife didn’t think he had, but he might’ve let it slip to one of his mates. Until we get that information, our case is going to be hard to crack. His wife couldn’t tell us much.”
“I see. Okay, boss. I’ll see what I can find out and report in tomorrow.”
Hero sat on the edge of Foxy’s desk. “Anything show up in the CCTV footage yet?”
“I’ve only just obtained the discs, sir. Hopefully, I’ll get back to you soon.”
“No problem. I’m eager to get going on this, so as quick as you can, all right?”
“Got it.” Foxy inserted a disc into her computer and tapped a few keys.
“Was there any news on the house-to-house enquiries, Foxy?” He asked, making his way over to Jason.
“Nothing, sir. I find that hard to believe, considering the time of the attack, don’t you?” Foxy called after him.
“Yes, it does seem very odd. Although given the neighbourhood, maybe the residents have become immune to the disturbances they hear early on in the evening. Maybe it would have been a different story if the incident had occurred early in the morning? Who knows with these things. It’s frustrating, all the same.”
Jason beat out a rhythm on the desk with his pen and reclined in his chair as Hero approached.
“Give Foxy a hand with the CCTV footage, will you?”
“Sure. Hopefully, we’ll find what we’re looking for if two of us are on it.”
Hero agreed, walked in his office, and slumped into his chair. He picked up the phone and rang his mother-in-law to check how Louie was. “All right, Deirdre? Did Louie get off to school okay?”
“Hello, Hero. Yes, eventually. He’s so excited, bless him. Lord knows how he managed to get any sleep last night.”
Hero chuckled. “Yep, I know that feeling. I don’t suppose you’ve rung the hospital today to see how Fay and the girls are doing, have you? I called in on my way to work this morning, but they were all sound asleep.”
“Poor thing is bound to still be exhausted. I’ll leave it until later on this afternoon then. The nurses will be constantly checking on her throughout the day, I should imagine. So if she’s sleeping, I’ll leave her be.”
“That’s what I thought. I’m going to call at the hospital on my way home this evening. Can’t wait to see and hold them all.”
“I’ll let you go and do some work. Talk soon, Hero.” Deirdre ended the call.
“Boss!” Foxy poked her head around the doorframe.
Hero jumped to his feet, knowing the sergeant wouldn’t have interrupted him if she didn’t have something urgent. “What have you got?”
“Something you should see on the CCTV footage,” Foxy said as he followed her back into the incident room.
He leaned on the desk between Jason and Foxy and stared closely at the screen. “That’s Daws, I take it?” Hero asked.
“Yep, the speculation about him being drunk was a little off the mark. I’d say he was totally inebriated. I’m surprised he knew which direction to take once he left the pub.” Foxy tutted and began fast-forwarding through the images.
“Maybe he has some kind of in-built homing device, like most drunks seem to have,” Jason offered.
“Okay, on this frame, he’s staggering along the main road. I watched him take the side road and disappear. I thought that was it. However, I left the disc running, and this is what I found.” Foxy pointed at a hooded figure who appeared to be following Daws into the side road.
“Interesting. Can you take the disc back?” Hero asked.
“I was just about to. The thing is, I was concentrating so much on Daws that I neglected to see this.” The two people on the screen went in reverse, then Foxy stopped the video at the point where the two figures appeared on the screen.
Hero pointed. �
�A car. Did you manage to get a plate number?”
“Nope, not yet. I’m still trying. The angle of the camera just misses it. Keep watching as I reverse the disc further.”
Hero leaned in closer. “Okay, so the hooded guy got out of the vehicle and started following Daws. So, this proves the attack was intentional, yes? The question is, did the attackers know the victim, or was it just a random attack?”
“My suggestion would be if Daws was throwing his money around at the pub, these guys clocked him there and put their plan into action to rob him on the way home,” Jason said.
“That’s logical. Let’s keep an open mind on that for now. I’ll note this down on the board. Foxy, can you keep searching the discs? See if you can find the car on a different camera, where you can get a plate number. See if we can get a better shot of the driver and the person who got out of the car. It’s hard to tell if we’re looking at a male or female, isn’t it?”
Foxy nodded. “I’m guessing the attacker was a male. My only reasoning for that is that it takes a lot of strength to strangle someone.”
“Fair point in other cases perhaps. I’m undecided on this one, though. After all, Daws wasn’t really in a fit state to fight off an attacker, was he?”
“There is that. Leave this with us, sir. We’ll get back to you with our findings.”
Hero started jotting relevant case notes on the whiteboard. “I’m surprised the house-to-house enquiries haven’t stirred up any leads. Maybe we should go and check out that side of things for ourselves, Julie? What do you say?” He turned to look at his partner.
Julie stared back at him and shrugged. “Don’t mind. Not a lot happening around here at the moment.”
“Okay, I’ve got a couple of calls to make first. Why don’t we have lunch then trek the streets after we’ve had some sustenance. I forgot to eat breakfast this morning, so I’m starving.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a coin for the vending machine.
Julie’s cheeks puffed as she rose from her seat. She picked up the sandwich Jason had bought earlier and gave it to Hero when she joined him at the machine. “White coffee with one for me, sir.”
“Cheeky sod.” He collected his coffee and handed Julie another pound coin for her to choose her own coffee. “I’ll see you in a while, after I’ve made my calls.” In his office, he placed his cup and sandwich on the table and dialled the first person he needed to contact.
“Dog and Duck. Can I help?” Hero recognised the voice as belonging to Cathy Daws.
“Yep. The owner or manager, please?” he asked. He heard her walk away from the phone.
Soon after, a male voice answered, “Steve Gillan. What can I do for you?”
Hearing the noisy activity going on in the background, Hero said, “Hello, Mr. Gillan. Is there any chance you could take this call privately, like in an office, perhaps?”
He grunted. “I might be able to. Who wants to know?”
“Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m DI Nelson.”
“Hold on a mo. I’ll hang up and take the call out back. Two minutes.”
The phone clattered, and the line went quiet. Hero was thankful the manager hadn’t left the line open in case Mrs. Daws felt like listening in on their conversation.
“Right. What can I do for you, Inspector?”
“I’m dealing with a murder enquiry and following up on some information I’ve been given, which I’d like you to clarify, if you don’t mind?”
“Murder enquiry? I’ll do what I can to help.”
The man’s surprise left Hero wondering if Cathy Daws had confided in her boss—it certainly didn’t sound that way. Why wouldn’t someone inform his or her boss of a death in the family, especially if the dead person was a spouse? More to the point, he found it incredible that Cathy Daws had even shown up for her shift that day. Most people he knew would have rung in sick, understandably grief-stricken. It was all rather puzzling.
“I take it Mrs. Daws hasn’t told you, then? That was Cathy who answered the phone, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right. What exactly is it that Cathy should have told me?” The man sounded worried.
“That her husband was killed yesterday,” Hero said, shaking his head as if the man were in the room with him.
“Whoa! Seriously?” Gillan whistled.
“Seriously. We’re investigating his death as murder.”
“Wow, I wonder why Cathy hasn’t told me?”
“Are you telling me that she’s acting her normal self?”
The man exhaled a large breath. “Er…yes. That is indeed what I’m saying, Inspector. Mind you, she’s a tough cookie. Not exactly the cute and cuddly type. But still…”
“Well, in my experience, people deal with grief in different ways. When I visited her this morning, she seemed very concerned about money. Maybe that’s why she’s at work today.”
“Maybe. She’s always pleading poverty during her shifts. So, how can I help, Inspector?”
“The thing is, when we questioned Mrs. Daws earlier today, she said that she was at work during the time the incident occurred last night. I’m ringing up to see if that’s true?”
“Hang on.” Hero heard sheets of paper rustling before the man came back on the line. “Yep, looking at the rota, she was down to work last night.”
“Due to work? So you can’t tell me if she turned up for her shift or not?”
“Let me think. I was having drinks with some friends…was she here?” The man clicked his fingers together. “Yep, she was definitely here, because she served us with a few rounds of drinks. Now that much, I can remember.”
Disappointed, Hero thanked the man for his help then hung up. Something niggling inside said he was right to have doubts about Cathy Daws’s reaction, but the evidence was there—she had a cast-iron alibi that would be difficult to disprove given that there was a pub full of drinkers to corroborate her claim.
Frustrated, Hero rang the pathologist for an update. “Gerrard, it’s Hero. Any news on the Daws case for me?”
“Can’t talk for long, due to carry out another PM in a few minutes. I was going to ring you after that, actually. Right, here’s what I’ve got. We found traces of cannabis in his blood.”
“Interesting, well, that could throw a different light on the case if drugs are involved—a dealer wanting his money, et cetera.”
“Yes, yes, well, that’s for you to investigate. The other thing I wanted to stress to you was that in my experience, if someone is garrotted, it inevitably leads to the attack being shown as a personal one. ‘In what respect?’ I hear you thinking. Well again, that’s down to your field of expertise to find out. All I can say is that this attack can no longer be seen as a random one.”
“Interesting. Okay. Thanks, Doc. Anything else?”
“Not yet. I’ll be sure to inform you when I receive all the tests back, Inspector.”
After the call, Hero was deep in thought when Julie walked into the office to return his change, breaking into his trance-like state.
“Everything all right, sir?”
“Yes, thanks, Julie. I’m just going over the case in my mind. We’ll eat lunch then get going, yes?”
“Whatever.” His sergeant shrugged and left his office.
Before he left the station, Hero stopped off at the whiteboard to fill in the facts he’d just learned about the case. With the red marker, he circled one name several times: Cathy Daws.
It wasn’t until they were underway in the car that Julie asked him why he’d done that. “I have a niggling doubt about that one. I just don’t want us forgetting about her during the investigation process.”
His partner shrugged again. “If she was at work, she’s unlikely to have carried out the attack, though, is she?”
“Well, that’s what we have to find out. Maybe she got a friend to carry out the deed for her. Have you thought of that? Let’s see what the house-to-house enquiries throw up, eh?”
She turned to loo
k out the window. “They’ve already come back negative,” she grumbled.
“Well, it’s best to check these things out, Sergeant. To my mind, at that time of night, someone should have seen, or at least heard, something. Let’s hope by the time we get back, Foxy has found out more about the car and the attackers.”
“We’ve got more chance of catching the attackers going down that route than trawling the streets.” She defiantly crossed her arms.
Mindful of the burden Julie had shared with him, Hero shook his head. Any other time, he would have snapped back with a sarcastic comment, but today, he bit down hard on his tongue. He was willing to put up with her vile mood, for the time being.
As Julie predicted, the next two hours of their time turned out to be totally wasted. They jumped in the car and headed back to the station. Out of the corner of his eye, Hero noticed his partner’s head moving as though she were talking to herself. Imagining the conversation going on in her head, he smirked.
Foxy couldn’t cheer them up, either. Upon their return, they found all her efforts had drawn similar blanks. At six o’clock, Hero decided to call his working day to a halt and head off to the hospital.
CHAPTER FOUR
The second Hero stepped into the private room, he could tell something was wrong. Fay smiled at him, trying to disguise how upset she was. Nonetheless, he immediately saw through the façade. He squeezed her hand, and as he bent to kiss her, he noticed the damp tissue in her clenched fist. “What’s wrong, love?”
She traced his face with a finger the second he sat down on the bed beside her. “It’s just me being silly.”
“What about?” Hero glanced over at the twins sleeping peacefully in their cots on the other side of the bed. “Anything wrong with the girls?”
“Yes,” Fay said before she broke down in tears.
“Fay, love, you’re worrying me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
A nurse entered the room before Fay could explain. “Come on, Mrs. Nelson, Fay, it’s not as bad as all that.”
“What isn’t? Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
