by Ted Tayler
Dead Reckoning
(The fourteenth case from ‘The Freeman Files’ series)
By
Ted Tayler
Copyright © 2021 by Ted Tayler
This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with another person, please buy an additional copy for each recipient.
All rights are reserved. You may not reproduce this work, in part or its entirety, without the author's express written permission.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover design: - www.thecovercollection.com
A Harmsworth House publication 2021
Other books by Ted Tayler
We’d Like To Do A Number Now (2011)
The Final Straw (2013)
A Sting In The Tale (2013)
Unfinished Business (2014)
The Olympus Project (2014)
Gold, Silver, and Bombs (2015)
Conception (2015)
Nothing Is Ever Forever (2015)
In The Lap of The Gods (2016)
The Price of Treachery (2016)
A New Dawn (2017)
Something Wicked Draws Near (2017)
Evil Always Finds A Way (2017)
Revenge Comes in Many Colours (2017)
Three Weeks in September (2018)
A Frequent Peal Of Bells (2018)
Larcombe Manor (2018)
Fatal Decision (2019)
Last Orders (2020)
Pressure Point (2020)
Deadly Formula (2020)
Final Deal (2020)
Barking Mad (2020)
Creature Discomforts (2020)
Silent Terror (2020)
Night Train (2020)
All Things Bright (2021)
Buried Secrets (2021)
A Genuine Mistake (2021)
The Long Hard Road – Collection (2021)
Strange Beginnings (2021)
Where to find him
Website & Blog: – http://tedtayler.co.uk
Facebook Author Page: – https://facebook.com/AuthorTedTayler
Twitter: – https://twitter.com/ted_tayler
Instagram: - https://instagram.com/tedtayler1775
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Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About The Author
CHAPTER 1
Saturday, 25th August 2018
Alex and Lydia had to make an early start. The train journey to Edinburgh Waverley involved two changes and took over seven hours, whichever way they approached it. Alex offered to drive overnight because Lydia wanted as much time with her mother as possible, but Lydia judged the extra hour they might gain with Eleanor wasn’t worth the effort.
“I like my bed too much,” she had said as they drove back to Chippenham from the Old Police Station on Friday afternoon.
“I enjoy sharing it with you,” said Alex.
Somehow, they dragged themselves out of bed in time to make it to Bath Spa station to catch the train.
“I called Eleanor last night to say we would arrive in Edinburgh by a quarter past three this afternoon. Providing there were no delays,” said Lydia.
“How long does it take to reach her place from the station?” asked Alex.
“Twenty minutes on the bus,” said Lydia. “Eleanor’s happy for us to stay with her, thank goodness.”
“You stayed with her in Craigmillar the last time you visited,” said Alex. “Her house is big enough, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t have you with me last time,” said Lydia. “I didn’t know how she felt about us sleeping together.”
“I get it. Eleanor is your mother after all’s said and done, even though you’re twenty-five. We didn’t have this problem with Chidozie. It made more sense for us to book our accommodation that weekend.”
“With the eye-watering price of our train fares today, saving the extra cost of a hotel bed for the night was more than welcome,” said Lydia. “We’re not made of money.”
“It means we can risk treating Eleanor to another fine dining experience tonight,” said Alex. “Do they serve haggis in August?”
“Ugh,” said Lydia, “haggis is an acquired taste. Despite the number of Burns Night suppers, my Dundee parents forced me to attend, one I never acquired. We’ll avoid the restaurant where Chidozie and Rosa took Eleanor. It sounded fantastic, but variety is the spice of life.”
“It was that expensive?” grinned Alex.
“Eleanor didn’t elaborate on the phone, but I reminded her that Chidozie and Rosa were used to the costs of restaurant meals being far higher in the Netherlands. Edinburgh prices wouldn’t have seemed excessive to them.”
“Your father is a wealthy man, Lydia. You can’t have missed that while we were in his company. He bought his place in Dubai at a great time. Heaven knows what it’s worth on the open market today. I can’t wait to visit.”
“That’s something I need to discuss with Eleanor this weekend. If it’s possible, I’d like us to arrange our trip to stay with my father to coincide with hers.”
“Even though Eleanor told you she and Rosa got on well, you still have reservations about them spending too much time together.”
“Two’s company,” said Lydia.
“Five provides safety in numbers,” said Alex. “Less chance of awkward moments.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Lydia.
No sooner than they got comfortable in their seats, they had to grab their things and get off at Bristol Temple Meads, the first of their scheduled changes.
As they boarded the train to Birmingham New Street, Lydia’s thoughts returned to yesterday afternoon.
“What did you make of Martyn Street?” asked Lydia. “I’d ruled him out as a suspect.”
“Gus took Luke along to the café in Wilton for their first meeting with Jackson and Street. Their reports in the files didn’t point towards Martyn being the killer. He lost his rag at something Gus said, but neither Gus nor Luke made much of it. The witnesses who contributed to the murder file described Martyn as a hard-working giant with a quick temper. Most painted him as slow-witted or backward, but he fooled everyone. Martyn was far more capable than many people imagined. Gus led him through the sequence of events as they unfolded when he left the engineering factory. Gus gambled the solicitor wouldn’t jump in to suggest his client didn’t have to answer. Whether Martyn has genuinely erased stabbing his mother from his memory or not, I don’t know. A court will decide. It will help if Salisbury police discover the remnants of the bloodied clothing and the murder weapon Martyn admitted having hidden. Even so, Gus believes we’ve got enough evidence for a guilty verdict.”
“We don’t always see the results of our labours, do we?” said Lydia. “I mean, actually going to court for the trial and helping to find the young woman Gus mentioned after you guys returned to the office.”
“Yo
u mean Maureen Glendenning,” said Alex. “Gus thinks Bourne Hill are the right people to take that search forward. Luke and Neil did most of the leg work yesterday, trying to find her in the UK or Spain. I only heard what they told Gus late yesterday. What did you and Blessing contribute?”
“Not much,” admitted Lydia. “We finished updating the Freeman Files and then searched social media for signs of a Maureen Glendenning. That proved a fruitless exercise. Neil hadn’t found evidence of a wedding in the reasonable period he researched in the morning, either. Just after lunch, Blessing trawled through the recorded deaths since 1968 without luck. It’s an unusual surname, so the chances of everyone missing a mention of a Glendenning are slim. By the time you and Gus got back, we had resigned ourselves to accept that the poor girl was dead.”
“What about Maureen’s child? Did Luke try to learn who adopted the baby? I know we’re assuming Maureen put the child up for adoption, but the mother’s name would appear on the paperwork.”
“Gus told London Road what we knew,” said Lydia, “after he informed them he’d wrapped up another cold case. Gus didn’t discuss it with us, but perhaps he thought it better for the fifty-year-old man or woman not to find out. How would it help them?”
“You searched for your birth parents when you were old enough,” said Alex. “I wonder if Maureen’s child ever started the process?”
“I’d be surprised if Graham Street’s name appeared on the birth certificate,” said Lydia. “He was an evil man, wasn’t he?”
“He wasn’t the only person from the investigation who was a bad lot. That’s another side of the Marion Reeves case that feels unsatisfactory,” said Alex. “Everyone who deserved to stand trial died before we uncovered the truth.”
“Maybe an investigation will find culprits in the sexual exploitation affair that are still alive,” said Lydia.
The train pulled into Birmingham New Street just before eleven o’clock. Alex and Lydia switched trains for the final time. Another four hours, and they would arrive at Waverley Station.
Lydia was looking forward to meeting with Eleanor again and introducing her to Alex. Because of the type of relationship she’d developed with her birth mother, Lydia wasn’t nervous. The nerves would set in when the couple travelled forty miles further north to Dundee to meet the people she called Mum and Dad.
“A penny for them?” asked Alex.
“I was just thinking about what we might do this afternoon,” said Lydia. “There won’t be much time for sightseeing before we travel into Edinburgh for a meal. Eleanor isn’t a night bird. She’ll be tucked up in bed by eleven o’clock, so we can’t eat too late.”
“While you were miles away, staring out of the window, I scrolled through a few places of interest on my phone,” said Alex. “We could use the hop-on, hop-off open-top bus service to check out the hot spots. Eleanor will guide us to the best options, and we can get to as many as we have time for tomorrow morning. If we make an early start, we can fit in lunch somewhere with Eleanor closer to home and then get a taxi to the station to save a few minutes.”
“That sounds good,” said Lydia.
The train trundled into Waverley Bridge on time. Alex put an arm across Lydia to stop her from rushing for the carriage door.
“Let the eager-beavers go first,” said Alex. “Give them ninety seconds to trample over one another in a rush to get off the platform. We’ll follow behind them and decide which is the best exit for us to catch that bus to Craigmillar.”
“You’re not a fan of crowds, are you?” said Lydia, gathering her things together.
Alex grabbed his bag, and taking Lydia’s hand, led her off the train. She had to admit the worst of the crowds had dispersed as they strolled along the concourse.
“I know it’s a Saturday afternoon,” said Alex, “but this place is busy, isn’t it?”
“Waverley Bridge handles twenty-five million passengers every year,” said Lydia. “There have been so many changes in recent years. The main station facilities stand in the middle of a large island platform surrounded by platforms on four sides. There are eighteen platforms, which give connections to the whole of Scotland, and a range of train franchisees run trains between Edinburgh and every major city in England.”
“Were you a trainspotter when you were a young girl?” asked Alex. “You seem to know the place inside out.”
“My parents brought me into Edinburgh quite often when I was growing up,” said Lydia. “The train was the easiest way to travel. This city was where I was born, after all. When I left school, I wanted to be an actress, and it was a toss-up whether to find a drama school here or in Glasgow.”
“What made you choose Glasgow?” asked Alex.
“It was further from Dundee,” said Lydia. “I knew I was adopted, and the need to find my birth parents was growing. I felt I should get far enough away to find my path if that makes sense?”
“You realised the time had come when you needed to stand on your own two feet,” said Alex. “No matter how well-meaning your parents were, they were stifling your true character.”
“Gus might have preferred it if I’d remained a home bird,” laughed Lydia. “I’d turn up to the office in a sensible twin-set over a knee-length tartan skirt.”
“You wouldn’t look out of place in this building,” said Alex. “How long has it been here?”
“Since the late 1860s,” said Lydia. “The booking hall floor featured beautiful mosaic tiling when it opened, but there have had to be too many changes in recent years for the original features to be so prominent. It’s such a shame. The station no longer allows access to cars because of the heightened threat of a terror attack. The taxis used to drive right onto the concourse. Now they have to queue outside.”
“Cars parked next to steam trains right where we’re standing must have created a terrific atmosphere,” said Alex. “The pollution must have been deadly, but nobody knew it back then.”
“The covered escalators over there will take us to Princes Street on the north side,” said Lydia. “We can catch the bus outside.”
Twenty minutes later, they reached Eleanor’s home in Craigmillar. Lydia rang the bell.
Alex didn’t have a particular picture in his head of what Lydia’s mother might look like. When he had met Chidozie Barre, the family likeness was striking. Chidozie was tall, muscular, handsome, and confident. There was no doubt Lydia was his daughter.
Eleanor was of slighter build, and her ginger hair was fading with age. It was more rosy-blonde than copper these days. In a decade, the grey and silvery-white highlights would become more dominant.
“Come in, you two,” said Eleanor. “You’ve had a tiring journey. Sit yourselves down and relax with afternoon tea. Lydia knows where your bedroom is. You can get settled in later.”
Alex and Lydia dropped their bags at the foot of the stairs, sank into the comfortable sofa, and did as instructed. Eleanor left them and returned from the kitchen several minutes later with a trolley. The top shelf held three plates laden with food, plus a pot of tea and a small sugar bowl. Eleanor pointed to side plates, cutlery, and cups and saucers on the bottom shelf.
“There are the makings, you two. Get stuck in.”
Alex looked at the sandwiches, cakes, and scones on offer. He’d need to walk the three miles into the city to make room for an evening meal. Lydia had already dived in. She was always hungry.
“So, you’re the famous Alex Hardy I keep hearing about?” said Eleanor.
“Famous rather than infamous,” said Alex. “I’ll settle for that. It’s good to meet you too, Eleanor, finally.”
Lydia had demolished two sandwiches and was deciding which cake to go for next when she spotted something in a vase on the mantlepiece.
“A red rose,” she said.
“A single red rose, Lydia,” said Eleanor. “Chidozie brought it when he and Rosa visited. It’s on its last legs now. I ought to have thrown it out, but I kept talking to it and saying you would be
here this weekend.”
“He didn’t forget what he’d given you when he arrived for your first date,” said Alex. “How romantic.”
“Mmm,” said Lydia. “I hope you weren’t encouraging him, Eleanor?”
“Don’t be foolish, girl. It wasn’t to be twenty-six years ago, and we’ve both moved on. I’m so glad you and Chidozie found one another. Rosa told me about the time you spent with them at the Lady Eleanor. Despite the name, it sounds like an interesting place. Rosa said that Chidozie was disappointed they were losing their chef.”
“A five-star restaurant has snapped up Lucas Romeijn, I imagine,” said Alex. “His food was spectacular. Chidozie knew they were lucky to have held onto him for as long as they had.”
“Lucas, yes, that was his name,” said Eleanor. “He leaves at the end of this month. Chidozie and Rosa were interviewing people to replace him after they flew home. I haven’t spoken to them since.”
“Where did you take them while they were here, Eleanor?” asked Lydia.
“They took me to The Table in the evening,” said Eleanor, “to see how the other half lives. We spent a lot of time here chatting. If it had been just the two of us, I think Rosa would have enjoyed a few hours of retail therapy on Princes Street or George Street. I liked her. We got on well together.”
“They invited you to Dubai in the autumn, didn’t they?” asked Lydia.
“You know they did. I told you on the phone. Why, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” said Alex. “We got an invitation too. How would you feel if the three of us flew out there together?”
“That sounds a marvellous idea,” said Eleanor. “I’d get to spend a whole week with my daughter. And her partner, of course. Are you sure Chidozie and Rosa wouldn’t mind?”
“I can’t see why,” said Lydia. “If you were there alone, they would feel duty-bound to keep you entertained every minute. When they close the Lady Eleanor and escape to Dubai, they deserve a rest after a busy summer season. We can let them do their own thing while we three explore Dubai, then get together in the evenings. Us girls can go shopping one day while Chidozie and Alex can chill out by the pool.”
