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by Hylton Smith


  “Well, what do you know? There is a new starting point because this evidence clearly shows a filial link between Reginald Powell’s parents and the legs from the Priory corpse. Donoghue is about as angry as I’ve ever seen him, because we could have had this lead some time ago. Anyway Steph, we now need to find out more about this young man. I’ll go and see his parents again. You can check out any possible connection to Alex Blake or his family, and you two boys can blitz the database, internet and even the newspapers at the time of his disappearance.” Sam then rang Adams to give him the good news, and this was met with a suggestion.

  “Sam, I’m already in the Midwest, why don’t I check out these parents and give them the potentially bad news about their son. This lead is too important to leave up in the air. I’d like you to stay on top of the two new boys and push this as far as we can. Tell Steph that I think she should go back to see Alex Blake in person because we mustn’t miss anything.”

  Sam informed the others of the plan. Stephanie said she’d have to juggle her personal arrangements to make the trip, and she wasn’t too happy about it, but complied. She sent a text to her friend’s phone because he had made it clear that he could not take personal voice calls at work. She received an almost instant response asking whether she had another ‘friend’ in Southampton. They rearranged their date.

  *

  Northumberland Street was always crowded. One of the main shopping areas of Newcastle, it was a wide, traffic-free zone. Renton was wandering up and down assessing the faces. He found it difficult to concentrate on the vague description of the biker in Chopwell Woods. Thirties, over six feet tall, and athletic didn’t produce too many hits. He began to look at other criteria. There were quite a few people engaged in activities other than shopping. Individuals could be seen selling the Big Issue, newspapers, busking in the hope of the price of a cup of coffee, and many more black economy earners. When the time deadline approached he became more acutely aware of the danger he may be in. This receded after five minutes or so as he started to think Frank was going to be a no show. Another five minutes and he was nearing the limit for getting back to hospital in time to avoid the wrath of the doctor. He decided to ask some of the street vendors if they had to have a licence to practice their occupation. This met with suspicion and he was told to get lost by some, others just moved to another spot. He began his journey back to the hospital when he was stopped by a clown, who was giving leaflets to everyone. They were details of the circus about to open on the Town Moor. When Renton refused the leaflet, the clown smiled and shrugged his shoulders, before saying he was only trying to let people know there was a show in town which would be enjoyed by children.

  “Do you have children Sir?”

  Renton shook his head and tried to ease past the man, who deftly pushed a folded leaflet into his top pocket, bidding him to have a nice day. Renton was furious that he’d been duped by Frank, thinking he would be on another internet photograph. He took the protruding leaflet from his pocket to stick it in the nearest litter bin, and noticed there was a scribble suggesting that he, Inspector Renton should contact the lady who was performing Origami, and selling kits for beginners. He turned immediately and scoured the crowd, but the clown had evaporated into thin air. He trudged back to the top of the street and upon stating his name was given an envelope. When he requested the woman to describe the person who had asked her to keep this for him, she laughed and said it was the clown. He’d rewarded her handsomely for helping him out.

  Chapter 22

  Jack Renton pestered the doctor to the point of harassment. They settled on him being conditionally discharged the next day if he agreed to regular checks as an outpatient.

  “Of course you can discharge yourself, but that may complicate all manner of insurance issues if you suffer a serious incident, and the possibility of that happening has been explained to you several times.”

  “No, I want to be responsible about this, but I also have to think about others who may be at risk from the people who attacked me in the first place. It’s very complicated Doctor, and I can’t say too much, but I don’t intend going back to work yet. I’m happy to stay here with my son, as long as I can venture out when I need to. So I’ll be available for your checks whenever you want me.” They agreed this formula and Renton immediately tried to call back Frank, knowing that it would go to a phone which was unregistered and discarded. It just had to be ticked off the list. He then rang Adams to explain his situation. When he disclosed his meeting with Frank, Ben almost exploded with anger.

  “Give me strength Boss, what a bloody stupid thing to do, not just for your own safety, but the shit it throws on the rest of us.”

  “I know, I know, it’s done now and I haven’t got any visual recollection which would help us, but I did hear his voice clearly. He doesn’t have a regional accent, and it’s very distinctive. I’ve opened the envelope and sure enough it contained the forensic report confirming Rory Davenport’s identity as the armless victim, so now he knows, and will post this, I’m sure. You need to prepare for that, and forget about the consequences for me. I’m not coming back yet anyway, but I’d like to see whatever Donoghue’s people have found at my house, and I want to have a butcher’s to see if there is anything else missing, or strikes me as unusual. It’s still a crime scene so I need you to get Donoghue to turn a blind eye, on the basis that I have already been back to get clean clothes anyway.”

  “Are there any other skeletons just waiting to hit me? I know you can’t officially intrude on a crime scene if you’re still on compassionate leave, but why do you want me to clear this with Donoghue?”

  “Because technically, there is a conflict of interest if I get involved in investigating the burglary. You’ve just quoted the rule book to me, well you haven’t forgotten that I’m a witness have you? And I don’t want to prejudice that status. When I do come back, I won’t be on that case.”

  “Ok, leave it with me. You’re just visiting your home for clean clothes right? And you really are sleeping at the hospital. We can’t involve Donoghue in anything dodgy.”

  “Yes, I bloody well know that, I’m only going to ask questions as a victim. How he answers them is up to him. I’ll just clock the place as part of getting my pyjamas and stuff.”

  “You really are a cunning sort Boss. I didn’t think I’d find out about the pyjamas this way.”

  *

  Alex Blake was pleased to see Stephanie and it was mutual. They had tea and scones before she got down to business. He’d asked all kind of questions about his uncle since her last visit, but all he had been told by the London police was that they had no suspects yet, even though they had a lot of manpower on the case. She didn’t disillusion him, thinking that it would be cruel to indicate it may be like that for a long time.

  “Can I ask if you’ve ever come across the name Reginald Powell?”

  “I don’t think so, who is he?”

  “Someone we are trying to trace. He’s the same age as you, and we’re worried about him because he’s been missing for some time.”

  “Has this got anything to do with my uncle or my mother?”

  “Possibly with your mother, but I don’t see any connection to your uncle. We have to eliminate people from our enquiries and Reginald Powell is one of them. I forgot to say that his birthday is the same as yours, so you are exactly the same age. Do you have any other family apart from your late mother and uncle?”

  “I seem to remember my mother talking of another brother who stayed in Jamaica, but that was when I was a kid, and she wasn’t using drugs. I never heard Uncle Clyde talk about him and I just forgot about having another uncle I suppose.”

  “What about Robert - your Father, did he have any relatives that you know of?”

  “None that he talked about, he didn’t even have close friends, other than a few he served with, but he only met them at reunions.”

  “Can you remember the names of any of them?”

  “You
do think this has something to do with my mother’s death don’t you?”

  “Perhaps, but we don’t know how it may be connected. So, we just have to explore every avenue. Detective work isn’t as glamorous as it seems on the telly; it’s mostly a hard slog, checking things which turn out to be red herrings.”

  “Well, I remember Dad talking about Ginger Walton. He was apparently the practical joker in the squad. It’s hard to remember now, but his real name might have been Garry or Gerry, or even Harry. Anyway, he used to tell Ginger’s jokes to me when I was about ten or eleven. I didn’t think they were funny until I was in Yemen myself, and then I understood the humour. I remember now, his name was Gerry.”

  “I’m pleased to see you again Alex, and I’ll keep in touch. Who knows, I might be back for more of those cream scones.” She felt relaxed about giving him a hug this time, and he responded as if she was his only friend. She phoned Sam as she set off for home.

  “I didn’t get much more from Alex, but it might be worth getting one of the boys to check out a friend of his father’s called Gerry Walton. He apparently served with Robert Blake in Yemen, so the M.O.D. may be the best route.”

  “Ok, Steph, see you soon.”

  *

  Adams accepted a coffee while he sketched in probable closure for Reginald Powell’s parents. They were completely mystified. They had pretty much expected the worst for some time, but couldn’t come to terms with the circumstances. Adams explained that what he had told them should remain between them for the present, as it was critical to keep this from the killer.

  “I know this is asking a lot of you, but it’s important that we find out the identity of all five victims, and their connection to this maniac. It’s the way we have to work. It’s also the best way to help you in dealing with your grief.” Roland Powell comforted his wife and nodded his agreement to Adams. “I’m sorry that I have to ask you again, but although we can show that the victim is almost definitely your son, it would still be helpful if we could obtain some of his DNA to run the full profile. Isn’t there anything you can think of?”

  Vanessa Powell dried away the tears and mentioned something to her husband. They had forgotten about the basement. Reginald had been a keep fit fanatic, and they had installed a shower so he could clean up down there, without bringing mess into the house after a run on the forest trails. There was the usual array of shampoos, gels, after-shaves and an electric razor. “He didn’t live here you see, he moved in with a friend last year, a boyfriend. Roland is quite old-fashioned in that sense and he couldn’t disguise his difficulty in making this boy welcome, so Reginald left home. It would have happened sooner or later, but after his disappearance, his friend Mark never came here anymore, which was understandable. When Reginald lived with Mark, he’d still come for tea sometimes, and he always came along the trails. That’s when we converted his old bedroom into a study. It was a complete makeover, and there was nothing of Reginald’s stuff left in there, and we then modified the basement. It made him realise we still loved him.” She broke down again. Adams took the toiletries and the razor for Donoghue.

  *

  Renton met with Clive Donoghue at his house.

  “Thanks for coming Clive. This is a strange situation, a police officer tiptoeing around his own house, which is a crime scene. I just wanted someone from your department to be here and keep me right while I get some ‘holiday clothes’ for my stay in hospital with Daniel. It’s better than being evacuated, I suppose. I see there’s only one of your lab guys here. Do you want to ask me anything now that my memory seems to be on the mend?”

  “I don’t think so. Although, I hear that you may have recalled a little more detail about the flash from the photo.”

  “Yeah I remember the other guy in the garden. The reflection of the person behind was too dark and as you know, Frank airbrushed the picture on the net anyway.”

  “Do you know exactly where this man stood in the garden?”

  “”Pretty much, it was just to the left of the gate. He must have been in those bushes when I came around the back, before entering the house, otherwise I’d have seen him.”

  “I’d like you to show me Jack, and then I’ll get someone up here to comb that specific area.”

  “Great, so what have you turned up so far?”

  “Not much as yet. Of course there was a lot of stuff you had brought from the office, including some of my reports. Not a good idea really. We’ve been concentrating on the house so far. There are some fingerprints on the glass around the circle which was cut out of the French door. They are smudged as if it had been difficult to get the circle out cleanly. It’s another one of those damned exercises of taking partials and trying to match them with anything on file, like pieces of a jigsaw. It’s very time-consuming. Other than that, I have to admit we are struggling. Hopefully we’ll strike lucky near the back gate.”

  “Ok, can you just accompany me upstairs to get my clothes, so that I don’t compromise anything?”

  “Of course, let’s put on these overshoes and masks.”

  Chapter 23

  Sam and the boys had followed up on Stephanie’s request for information on Gerry Walton, and found nothing other than a perfect service record with the armed forces. They abandoned this trawl and got back to Brett Driscoll. This was looking pretty bleak too, when Sam had a thought. He ran the sequence through his mind again. Driscoll was being groomed for a top role in London. He blemishes his record by incidents which even the Colony couldn’t stomach. He is farmed out to a comparatively ‘mickey mouse’ Salford casino operation in which he is perceived as a spy. He is reputed to have hated this and tried to engineer his way back to London. He reports Martha Blake’s disappearance – why? The word is put out in the Capital that her brother was clipped by the Colony – namely Sol Greenwood, while the neighbour is another member of the mob, who actually put Clyde Hendricks in touch with Carl Kennedy about a loan, which was never taken out. His business is taken over by The High Road Group, which is thought to be bankrolled by the Colony. Driscoll was presumably the man putting the pressure on Carl Kennedy, reminding London that their man Freeman (the neighbour of Hendricks) was to blame. Driscoll would not want another stain on his record. The fact that the police grapevine felt Driscoll was dead, and at the hands of the Colony, fitted neatly with the need to tidy up the killings of Martha and her brother, in which the police were getting too close for comfort. Not the London police, but the bumpkins from the North.

  Sam replayed this time and again, and eventually concluded that Driscoll may have been earmarked for erasure and then setup by the London hierarchy because of some further misdemeanour. And as D.C.I. Forster had said, this was one kind of hit which had to be seen to be handled internally. Sam was reconciled to never finding out what colossal mistake Driscoll made, in addition to the paltry cock-up with the loan to Hendricks. It didn’t really alter his hunch. If the London police force was complicit in this spring cleaning exercise, it would probably extend to the database. He rang Adams.

  “Before you come back, can I run something past you?”

  “Sure, but I’ve just set off so you’d better make it brief.”

  “Your certainty about corruption in the Capital got me thinking, and I remember Donoghue didn’t get a match for any of the five victims’ DNA when checking against previous records. Well that may not be too surprising with Davenport and Martha Blake, but Driscoll should have some information against his name. Even the top guys have notes appended to the charges they have been cleared of.”

  “Go on Sam, you’ve got my attention.”

  “He could have done the old name change trick, especially with a name like Brett Driscoll, but there is another possibility.”

  “Uh-huh, so what is it for Christ’s sake?”

  “The database has been cleaned.”

  “That’s likely to be very difficult to prove.”

  “Yes, but our esteemed Grand Leader has experts working night and day
to block out Frank. They must be able to check with archived files. If I’m right, this kind of selective wiping can only be done centrally. Bradstock’s American guru could check it out. The fact that Frank got in shows it could be done by an outsider, but my money’s on a mole for the Colony.”

  “It’s a great suggestion Sam, but how the hell do we tell Bradstock we suspect his inner sanctum of screwing with the Bible?”

  “That’s your dilemma, it just doesn’t sit right. Rory Davenport had plenty of notes, but nothing to justify a DNA record. I’d have thought a serial drug addict like Martha Blake should have been asked to submit a swab. Driscoll can’t have a cleaner record than you or me. Try that on Bradstock.”

  “Thanks Sam, there could be a vacancy in Newcastle by tomorrow. I’ll pull into the services and rehearse my approach. I must be crazy.”

  *

  The call eventually came. Renton was asked by Frank if he’d got his forensic report from the woman.

  “Yes I did. That was quite a neat trick, and presumably there will be a photograph to go with it?”

  “Naturally, and it may be on the internet at some time if I need to get you moved aside. I would like to know how I have been unable to get access to your Intranet. I am sure you would agree that would be a preferable way of you being replaced, as it would be ‘handled internally’. I also need to know about progress you have made other than Rory Davenport. Even if you are off the case, you must know this. I would rather keep this between us, but unless I am updated, I may have to take action against innocent people, some of whom are already in hospital. That would be unfair, but I live in a world of gross neglect of the innocent and unfortunate, so I am more or less desensitised to such injustice. I will be in touch again soon.” This shift to personal threat to Renton’s family seared through his synapses and he felt extremely queasy. He made his way back into Daniel’s ward but collapsed before he reached the bedside. Jane pressed the emergency call for attention at the side of the bed. Renton was examined and rushed to a private room. He was hooked up to all manner of equipment, including an EEG monitor. Jane was eventually told that such a post-trauma reaction was not totally unexpected. He was readmitted to an intensive care unit and had yet to recover consciousness. Jane used his mobile to ring Ben Adams, who was by now near to Scotch Corner, about forty miles from Newcastle. He pulled on to the hard shoulder and when he heard what she had to say he felt quite sick himself. He said he would come directly to the hospital but she said Renton wasn’t allowed to have visitors at present, not even her. She promised to let him know of any change.

 

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