by Ted Tayler
“Time to head back,” he said, “You can wave at the passengers as they sail past if you wish.”
“What a lovely sight,” said Suzie. “It’s hard to imagine what happened one hundred yards ahead of us three years ago. Has this second viewing helped you with the case, Gus?”
“Every little helps, Suzie,” said Gus. “I couldn’t see a rational way ahead when Neil and I visited the murder site. This visit has confirmed my suspicions. I’m certain no mystery canoeist or vagrant was lurking in the dark, ready to pounce on Stacey Read. Whoever it involved; they were people she knew.”
“So, you’re coming around to the idea Jack Sanders put forward? There was more than one attacker.”
“It’s what makes sense of where they found the discarded clothing,” said Gus. “It explains the spot where they found the body, and why Stacey didn’t turn and run back the way she came.”
“You think you know who did it, don’t you?” asked Suzie.
“Not a clue,” said Gus, “but I’m closer to the truth now that I’ve got a way in which the sequence of events could have occurred. I was going over it in my mind’s eye while you admired the ‘Dragonfly’ as it sailed by.”
“Are we heading back to the car now?” asked Suzie.
“I think we should,” said Gus. “Otherwise, we’ll find a quiet spot on the canal bank and stay here until sundown. It’s too much of a temptation.”
Gus drove them home, and as the sun blinked a final goodbye as it descended behind the trees on the distant hills, they walked to the Lamb. Some habits are more difficult to break than others.
“What time will you be home tonight?” asked Suzie as they stood beside their cars in the driveway at a few minutes before eight in the morning.
“I shouldn’t be late,” said Gus. “Good luck spreading the news about Christine Mercer’s sudden interest in lighting accessories. Try to be subtle.”
“Cheeky,” said Suzie. “See you tonight.”
Gus drove behind Suzie into Devizes and watched the GTI turn into the London Road car park. The weather was changing, with far more cloud today. Gus thought that everywhere would benefit from a good shower of rain. The level in his water-butt at the allotment was lower than he’d like.
Nothing had gone thirsty on Saturday evening as Gus did the honours with the watering can, while Suzie packed the picnic things and empty wine bottle into the wicker basket. He ought to stop by the allotments tonight on the way home to check nothing was suffering from a lack of rain.
Gus arrived at the Old Police Station just ahead of Neil Davis. Alex and Lydia were upstairs, and Luke and Blessing wouldn’t be far behind. Gus wanted a prompt start, and the team wouldn’t disappoint.
“Morning, guv,” said Neil. “Another day, another collar?”
“Ever the optimist, Neil,” said Gus. “Is Melody okay?”
“So far, so good, guv,” said Neil. “Did you have a busy weekend?”
“Hectic on Friday evening, productive on Saturday, and potentially useful yesterday,” said Gus.
“No idea how you cram it in, guv, Don’t you ever wish you could put your feet up?”
“Time enough for that when I get old, Neil,” said Gus as they exited the lift.
“Did you have time to prepare that list of questions for Ryan Lock to answer, guv,” asked Alex Hardy.
Alex hadn’t sat down since he arrived. He still held his car keys in his hand. Both Alex and Lydia were keen to get on the road to Feltham.
“I knew there was something,” said Gus as he flopped into his chair. “I didn’t have time to write them out. You will have to wing it, Alex. Ask Ryan about his relationship with Stacey. Was he on Redpost Drive that Sunday night? Oh, and if he saw her that evening, was she carrying a big shoulder bag?”
“Should we ask whether he carried a knife back then?” asked Lydia.
“You can ask, but I doubt that he’ll answer that one,” said Gus. “He’s in a Young Offenders Institution for a reason. Ryan was guilty of drug offences in the main, and many addicts carry a knife for protection. They don’t necessarily use a knife threateningly, but we have known it.”
“We’ll get as much as we can out of him, guv,” said Alex. “We should be back just after two o’clock.”
“Good hunting,” said Gus as Alex and Lydia headed for the lift.
When they reached the ground floor, they bumped into Luke Sherman and Blessing Umeh.
“Off to Middlesex?” asked Luke.
“A fishing expedition,” said Alex. “Still, it keeps us busy.”
“Not as busy as last weekend,” said Blessing.
“You’re not kidding,” said Lydia, “I know Gus asked us to re-charge our batteries, but Alex took it to the extreme. We did nothing until yesterday evening, and then I video-called my father and his partner, Rosa.”
“Let’s face it,” said Alex. “That would have been the highlight of your weekend whatever we’d done.”
“It was satisfying to know the closeness we had while we were in Rotterdam hadn’t faded,” said Lydia. “We picked up from where we left off last Sunday evening. What did you do, Blessing? Any more gossip about Dave you can share?”
“Dave was on nights this weekend,” said Blessing. “I spoke with my mother on the phone yesterday. I almost told her I was seeing someone, but I decided it was too soon.”
“You’ll be okay, Blessing,” said Alex. “If Dave Smith is a traffic cop, he must work various shifts in different areas of his patch. Soon, he’ll get a couple of weekends free in a row, and I’m sure he’ll get in touch.”
“I’ve got nothing to add,” said Luke. “This weekend did not differ from many others. Eat, drink, shop, watch TV, and sleep. Oh, we went to the cinema on Saturday night. Nicky wanted to watch ‘The Outsider’, set in Japan after WWII. Riveting.
“Bad luck,” said Alex. “You two had better get upstairs to the office, or Gus will be on the warpath.”
Luke and Blessing walked to the lift as Lydia roared away from the car park in her red Mini.
“Did Alex have his eyes closed?” asked Blessing.
“Always,” said Luke.
Lydia and Alex arrived at YOI Feltham in one piece. They had forty-five minutes to kill before the eleven-thirty meeting.
“You didn’t need to rush,” said Alex.
“I’ve been to a prison similar to this with Gus,” said Lydia. “It takes longer for us to get in than it has taken for several inmates to escape in the past.”
Lydia was right. It was twenty-five past eleven before they reached the room set aside for the interview with Ryan Lock. At half-past eleven, on the dot, a warder escorted the prisoner into the room. Ryan sat on the one metal chair on the other side of the table and stared at Lydia Logan Barre.
Ryan was seventeen, scruffy and showed little interest in being there. Lydia stared back, and all she saw were tattoos, scars, and a frightened little boy behind the bravado.
“Ryan Anthony Lock?” asked Alex.
“Yeah. What’s this about?”
“You were at school with Stacey Read, in Swindon, is that correct?”
“If you’ve checked, you know I was, so what?”
“Stacey’s mother and her aunt mentioned your name when we talked to them last week. They believed that you and Stacey were friends.”
“I suppose so,”
“Remind me where it was you lived in Swindon, Ryan,” said Alex.
“Juno Way. I still do. I’ll be out of here in a few months.”
“Your parents want you back, is that right?”
“It’s only my Mum, Karen. She had me when she was still at school.”
“How far is your home in Juno Way from Redpost Drive?”
“Half a mile. A five-minute walk. So what?”
“Someone saw you there together on the Sunday night she died.”
“That someone needs to go to Specsavers.”
“Are you sure? It makes sense, doesn’t it, if you and Stacey
were friends? She left home in Gorse Hill and caught a bus to Redpost Drive. Did Stacey have any other friends that lived near Juno Way?”
“I wouldn’t know. What if I was there, anyway? It doesn’t mean I killed her. I didn’t, I swear on my Gran’s grave.”
“Why did she bring that large shoulder bag with her? Do you know, Ryan?”
“How do I know what she had in it?”
“How often did you and Stacey meet outside school, Ryan?”
“Three, maybe four times. She kept nagging me.”
“Did she disapprove of the drug-taking, Ryan?”
“A right do-gooder was Stacey. She wanted to save me from myself, that’s what she said. I told her to mind her own business. If I’d listened to her, I wouldn’t be here now, and…”
“And what, Ryan? Stacey wouldn’t be dead? Is that you were going to say?”
“No comment,”
“I think we can assume you were the teenage lad seen arguing with Stacey Read on the night of the eighth of February in 2015,” said Alex. “Either you let Stacey walk along Redpost Drive alone to the nature reserve and her death, or you accompanied her. You’re not as hard and uncaring as you try to appear, Ryan. You were fourteen, nine months older than Stacey. She was a friend, and whatever her reason for going to Rushey Platt nature reserve that night, you wouldn’t have let a friend go there alone. It was dark and bitterly cold.”
“I walked with her to the bottom of the Drive. Then I walked home. Happy now?”
“Who was she meeting, Ryan?”
“I already said. How would I know?”
Lydia spoke for the first time.
“I’ve studied the map of the area, Ryan,” she said. “What made you use Redpost Drive, anyway? The eyewitness saw you arguing with Stacey on the other side of the road to Redpost Drive's entrance. But, if you crossed over the A3102 and walked facing the traffic back towards the pub, you could have entered Rushey Platt Park. That leads towards the canal and then through to the nature reserve.”
“Stacey wanted to meet someone. They were driving up Peglar’s Way, and she knew he always parked near the reserve.”
“I’m studying the details of your arrest, Ryan,” said Alex. “There was no mention of a knife.”
“I never needed one,”
“Not even that night, Ryan? Surely, you needed protection if you were venturing into a dark, lonely place such as the nature reserve.”
“I wasn’t carrying,” said Ryan. “Stacey had a knife in her jacket pocket. That was what started the argument. I told her she didn’t know who she was up against.”
“So. you knew who she was meeting. Was it the drugs, Ryan?” Alex asked. “Did Stacey discover that the nature reserve was where a dealer did business? Was a thirteen-year-old girl going to confront a hardened male criminal armed with a five-inch blade?”
“No comment,”
“No need, Ryan,” said Lydia. “You wouldn’t have let Stacey go there alone. You didn’t abandon her at the bottom of Redpost Drive to walk home. The quickest route to Juno Way was to follow the path through the reserve and the park I mentioned.”
Ryan Lock shifted uneasily in his seat and stared at the floor.
“Why don’t you tell us the truth, Ryan?” said Alex.
“I can’t,” said Ryan.
“Let’s recap, Ryan,” said Alex, “just to get things in the right order. Several drug-related items turned up during a spot-check at school in December that led to your exclusion. Stacey phoned when she heard the news, and you met. As a friend, she aimed to get you to stop taking drugs and discover where you were getting them. Three more meetings took place over the next six weeks, culminating in the argument that Sunday night. Because Stacey was determined to confront the drug dealer in the nature reserve, you walked to the bottom of Redpost Drive together and then made your way onto the reserve.”
“Then I walked home,” said Ryan, “I walked back through the park. I forgot. I didn’t go back to the main road.”
“A likely tale,” said Lydia. “I think you remember every second of the night when your friend got killed.”
“If you had to guess, Ryan,” said Alex, “what was Stacey carrying in that shoulder bag?”
“She might have had a big torch and a blanket.”
“What for?” asked Alex.
“What if she planned to lie in wait? It was freezing.”
“The torch was to illuminate the face of the man she hoped to meet, I assume. What time was he arriving? How did Stacey know that was when he would be there? Did your friend realise how dangerous it could be? How could she get away?”
“Stacey was dead-set on stopping the supply of drugs to school kids. Once she got her teeth into something, she was relentless. Stacey kept nagging at me to tell her when he might be in town. I phoned her in the week and told her he met someone on Sunday nights, but I never thought she’d actually go.”
“We’re almost there, Ryan,” said Lydia. “Why don’t you give us a name? Do it for Stacey, and the other young lives this man is ruining.”
“It’s complicated. I can’t say any more. He might hurt Mum if he knew I was speaking to you. If I told you anything, he’d be after me as soon as I get out. I’m sorry. I didn’t want Stacey to die.”
“We’ll leave things as they are, for now, Ryan,” said Alex. “I’ll arrange protection for your mother, and as far as the outside world is concerned you gave ‘no comment’ replies to every question we posed. You can contact me on this number when you’re ready to talk more freely. If we discover the person's name during our enquiries, we’ll return for a full statement. How does that sound?”
“My Mum will be alright?” said Ryan.
“We’ll do everything we can,” said Alex.
“Thanks,”
The warder escorted Ryan out of the interview room. Alex and Lydia stayed behind, going over what they learned.
Meanwhile, in the Old Police Station office, Gus and the rest of the team spent the morning following up the investigation's other threads.
“I’m having no luck contacting Rod Maidment on the phone number Debbie Read supplied, guv,” said Luke Chambers.
“We have an address in Wroughton, don’t we?” asked Gus.
“Nothing specific, guv. Debbie Read never went there. Maidment must have slept at her place while the girls were at Vanessa’s or her mother’s. Gareth Francis’s list just gives Wroughton as his location.”
“Maybe Maidment got a new phone,” said Neil Davis. “What about Vanessa, guv? I wonder whether her mobile number was the same as the one he gave Debbie?”
“There’s something wrong with that list, guv,” said Blessing Umeh.
“In what way, Blessing?” said Gus.
“On Friday, we asked Debbie to confirm that the list was accurate. She admitted that although several names might be out of sequence, they were correct for the year in question. I’ve checked the Polish nationals who no longer live in the UK. The dates when they travelled home were before the dates shown on Debbie’s list. I think she believed we wouldn’t bother checking, because of the hassle of getting in touch with them.”
“We’re concentrating on the asterisked names on the list,” said Neil, “because they were with Debbie as a couple longer. What difference does it make if Debbie misremembered several one-night stands?”
“I don’t believe she did, Neil,” said Blessing. “I think she’s moved the name of someone important and hidden the gap with these four Polish workers.”
“Who could she have moved and why?” asked Gus. “What are you thinking, Blessing?”
“There are two things to consider,” said Blessing. “Did she leave a name out altogether? If we have every possible name among the four that Luke is checking, plus this Maidment character, then Debbie Read and that man have something to hide. There’s something important missing between the dates where those foreign workers appeared on the list.”
“Which dates do they cover?” asked
Gus.
“December 2012 to October 2013, guv,” said Blessing. “That’s what started me wondering. It meant Debbie got lucky with four men in around forty weeks.”
“That’s a better strike rate than I ever managed when I was single,” said Neil.
“The thing is, guv, Debbie gave us twenty other names to cover the remaining three hundred weeks in the period between her husband walking out and her daughter’s death.”
“You might read too much into the numbers, Blessing,” said Luke. “One in ten, or one in fifteen, how does it help us?”
“I think Blessing has hit on something worth pursuing,” said Gus. “Although I agree there could be a simple answer. One of Debbie’s girls could have been ill, and she didn’t get out socially for a while. Then there are the extended relationships. What if one of those men broke up with her and Debbie got hurt? She might swear off men for a month or two. Luke, take Blessing with you and interview Debbie Read again. Ask whether there was another name that she tried to hide. Show her the evidence we’ve gathered on the foreign workers. She might just claim she got them out of sequence, but keep at her. She’s hiding something. How significant it is, I don’t know.”
“On it, guv,” said Luke.
“Neil,” said Gus, “call Vanessa Nicholls. She should be out of bed by now. Check Rod Maidment’s phone number. Ask if she knows his address in Wroughton. Don’t tell Vanessa that we know he also had a relationship with her sister.”
“I get it, guv,” said Neil, “if I ask the right questions, she might let on that she knew. I’ll try to sound as if it was news to me.”
Blessing thought that the morning had gone well. Something told her the anomaly she’d spotted was important. It felt good to contribute positively to the team’s effort.
“Do you have anything else, Blessing?” asked Gus.
“No, guv. What do you wish me to do? I can fetch you a coffee.”
“I’ll go, Blessing,” said Gus. “I need to keep in your good books. You did a deep-dive on those four foreign workers. Can you double-check the names, addresses and phone numbers of the fifteen men you haven’t looked at yet? If you’re right, and Debbie Read was devious when compiling that list, she might have given us more duff information.”
