by L M Krier
'We have her in sight now, heading our way,' Ted announced, as Jezza let the Fiesta go past then pulled into the traffic behind it, three vehicles back. Luckily there were enough cars to make trailing Angela less obvious.
'Keep her in sight but don't press too close,' Ted advised. 'Rob, are you following?'
'Not far behind you, boss, but the traffic's building up, so give me a clue if you turn off.'
'Traffic is slowing down here now,' Ted told him. 'I think there are roadworks ahead. Temporary traffic lights, with single file traffic.'
The lights were just changing to amber as Angela's car went through. Jezza held her breath, willing the cars in front to go for it. They did and she followed them, tailgating the one in front as the light turned to red.
'Shit!' they heard Rob shout over the radio. 'Some twat's just driven right into the back of me. Sorry, boss.'
'Are you both all right?' Ted asked, his first concern as always for his officers.
'Yeah, fine, but I'm not sure my car is,' Rob said ruefully. 'Keep us posted with where you are and we'll catch you up.'
'Do you want me to stay put here or come after you, boss?' Virgil asked. 'We've got a bit of a walk to the car so we won't be quick.'
'Negative, Virgil, you two stand down,' Ted told them. 'Go and get dry. Jezza and I will try to keep her in sight. If I had any clue where she was going I could get someone up ahead, but we'll just have to follow her for now.'
'She's turning off,' Jezza announced, as Angela swung the Ford into a narrow lane, without indicating. 'Unless this is a known rat-run, we're going to stick out a bit like a sore thumb, following her along here.'
'Hang well back,' Ted told her. 'I've no idea where this goes. I must have driven past it dozens of times but I'm none the wiser.'
'We could ask the GPS,' Jezza suggested.
'I'm rubbish with anything like that, I find it too distracting. Let's just keep following her and see where she leads us. She should have no reason to suspect who we are, unless she's really paranoid.'
The lane was narrow and twisting. If they met any oncoming traffic, it would be uncomfortably tight to squeeze by another vehicle, unless there were any passing places. They had not yet seen any.
Angela seemed to have speeded up somewhat. Whether it was the lack of any other traffic, or she was feeling uncomfortable with another car behind her, they couldn't tell. Jezza was careful to keep back as instructed.
They lost sight of her for a moment on a particularly tight bend. When Jezza rounded it, she suddenly had to hit the brakes, hard. Angela's car had stopped dead in the middle of the road, just before a bridge. The impressive braking system on the Golf brought it to a smooth halt, not too close.
Angela had got out of the car and was standing next to it in the pouring rain, clutching something to her chest. She was shouting towards them, but they couldn't hear what she was saying, from within the cocoon of the vehicle.
'Wait in the car. I'll go and talk to her,' Ted said, opening the passenger door to step out, reaching for his warrant card.
'Be careful, boss,' Jezza said warningly.
'Don't worry,' he said, hitching up the collar of his trench coat against the rain. 'If she whips out any cake, I won't eat it.'
He took a step forward and said calmly, 'Mrs Mortenson? Please don't be alarmed, I'm a police officer.' He held up his warrant card, although she wouldn’t be able to see much through the rain.
'Why are you following me?' the woman's voice was hysterically shrill.
'I'm sorry if we alarmed you, ma'am. We've just been trying to contact you,' Ted continued in the same tone. 'We were concerned about your welfare. No one's seen you for a few days. Could we just have a word with you, please?'
'You've been spying on my house,' she spat. 'I've been watching you, watching it. And you've been in my garden. I left markers, so I'd know if anyone had been in.'
'Mrs Mortensen, could we please have a word, somewhere in the dry?' Ted asked reasonably, rain teeming down his face, droplets forming on the end of his nose.
'Get away from me!' she shouted, backing up a few steps. 'I know what you're trying to do.'
'Mrs Mortensen, all I'm trying to do is to get us both in out of the wet. Would you like me to get into your car, or would you like to come and sit in ours?' he asked, wondering what Jezza would think about them both dripping all over the leather upholstery.
'I just need to ask you a few questions, please,' he continued, keeping his tone as non-threatening as possible.
He took one step forward. Angela immediately screamed at him to stay away, then turned and ran up the slope towards the bridge.
Ted still had the radio in his hand. He said quietly into it, 'Jezza, stay in the car, call specialist back-up. We may need to talk her down. She's clearly very agitated and irrational.'
He walked after Angela as calmly as he could, then caught sight of her, standing on the stone parapet of the bridge above the river, which was swollen from all the recent rain. He stopped as soon as he saw her. She was swaying precariously, still clutching whatever it was she held in her hands.
'Mrs Mortensen, please come down from there,' he said evenly. 'You have nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going to harm you. I just need to ask you some questions. Somewhere out of the rain, in the warm, over a nice cup of tea.'
'My Robert,' she said, her voice much lower, holding up the object, which Ted could now just make out was a framed photograph. 'He was so wonderful. Such a lovely person. They couldn't find a bed for him. Yet some stinking, useless old crone who should have been dead long ago got a bed. And my Robert died.'
'Mrs Mortensen, your husband was very seriously ill,' Ted was still trying to keep his voice calm and reasonable, to buy himself some time. There was no way he could get close enough to the woman to snatch her to safety. He would just have to try to keep her talking until expert help arrived.
'He died, just so some old person could live a few more miserable weeks or months. They could have saved him, if they'd tried. If they'd wanted to. But I've been evening up the score. There's not so many old people left now, blocking beds in hospitals which younger people could have.
'I did it for my Robert. I miss him so, so much. And now I'm going to be with him.'
Ted lunged forward as she took a deliberate step off the parapet and disappeared from sight. He was hauling off his trenchcoat and shoes when Jezza reached him, shouting, 'Boss, no, what the hell do you think you're doing?'
'Going in after her,' Ted said, heading towards the parapet.
'Are you mad? If she doesn't drown first, she'll get sucked into the hydro and chopped to pieces.'
She put out an arm to stop him, which he shrugged off and turned back to the bridge. This time, he totally missed her roundhouse kick which came from behind him and knocked his feet out from under him. He did feel the weight of her as she leapt onto his back, kneeling on his shoulders to pin him face down.
She grabbed his radio and shouted instructions into it.
'Suspect gone into the river near Otterspool, probably swept away downstream. Need urgent Fire and Rescue Service, probably divers.'
She added the coordinates which the GPS had given her while she was waiting in the car as instructed.
Ted could so easily have unseated and immobilised her, but he didn't even attempt to. In a sense, he was relieved. He was no swimmer at all, useless out of his depth, and would probably have drowned. He had just felt that he should at least try.
'DC Vine,' he ground out, 'would you please stop kneeling on me so I can get up and we can both get in out of this rain.'
She leapt up, but she was grinning, especially at his dishevelled appearance. Ted noticed the state of his work suit. Trev was not going to be pleased.
He got to his feet and tried to put his shoes back on. His socks were soaked through, so there seemed little point. Instead he just squelched wetly back towards to car, carrying his sopping shoes, to await the arrival of the cavalry.
'You do know there are probably screens to stop even fish, never mind bodies, getting sucked into the hydro, don't you?' he asked.
Jezza opened the boot and produced a towel, which she threw at him, telling him to get into the car.
'I had to say something to stop you jumping in,' she grinned. 'The team would never have forgiven me if I'd let you drown.'
'And you do know I have black belts in four martial arts?' Ted asked her with mock severity.
Jezza was still grinning widely. 'Good job one of them isn't kickboxing then, eh, boss?'
Chapter Thirty-nine
'I think I might just give myself six out of ten today,' Ted said, surprising Carol.
It was the highest mark he had awarded himself to date in any of their therapy sessions. She was even more surprised that he said it while looking directly at her, rather than staring at the carpet.
He said it with a boyish grin. It made him look both attractive and vulnerable at the same time. It lit up his hazel eyes, with their hint of green. She was pleased to be able to see more of his face, rather than the top of his head as he bent forward.
She had spent a lot of time thinking how thick his hair was and how beautifully kept, always clean and shiny. He had probably been blonde as a baby, now the colour had the slightly dusty look of corn left standing too long before harvest.
'Maybe seven,' he said, on reflection, then, hedging his bets, 'six and a half'.
She knew his recent difficult case had come to an end. Not quite the end he had hoped for, but at least it was finally over and there was closure, of sorts.
Angela's body had been found not far down-river from where she had gone into the water. The post-mortem revealed that she had hit her head as she jumped in, and been knocked unconscious. She had drowned, and her body had been caught on rocks further down, quickly recovered by the Fire and Rescue Service.
'There will have to be an internal enquiry into the circumstances of her death, of course,' the Ice Queen had warned him. 'It's routine, but merely a formality. Neither you nor DC Vine are under any suspicion of any irregularity. It's a pity we could not have brought her to trial, but the likelihood is strong that she would have been found unfit to plead in any event. Grief can do terrible things to the human mind.'
Ted had at least been able to close the file on the killings. They had strong evidence against Angela which would probably have convinced a jury of her guilt. But he agreed with the Ice Queen. Any halfway decent defence team would have been screaming unfit to plead, in view of what were her obviously serious mental health issues.
He had spent some time figuratively beating himself up that they had missed an important link. The first victim chronologically, though not the first they had heard about, Lilian Protheroe, had been in hospital at the same time as Angela's husband, though not on the ICU. It was an angle they had not thought to explore, after the CEO's assertion that no elderly patients were blocking beds which might otherwise have been available to Robert Mortensen.
It had emerged, from later questioning, that Mandy Griffiths had given Angela Mrs Protheroe's name and told her which home she had come from, when Angela had been screaming her protests that the elderly lady had been allocated a bed. She'd given her the information before the reporter arrived on the scene, and he'd been quickly moved on to his appointment so had not heard all the details.
Angela had started to visit Mrs Protheroe in the home after her discharge from hospital. She had established her presence as not suspicious, then taken her chance to poison her. Presumably, once she had found how easy it was to do, she had tried again, then kept on going, until a chain of events made her realise the police were on to her.
It was clear that the articles about the case in the local paper had pushed her over the brink, where she had been teetering since the death of her husband. She must have been worried the police were getting close. Then the incident with Jezza at Cottage Row had clearly sent her into a panic, probably suspecting the police were on to her, and had driven her into hiding.
They found out that she had been staying in a B&B not far away, returning from time to time to keep an eye on her house from a distance. From her vantage point, she had seen what she deduced must be police officers looking around and had realised that the net was closing in.
'If I may give you one piece of advice, Inspector,' the Ice Queen said, in a tone which left Ted in no doubt that it was an order, not a suggestion. 'If ever it were to get out in the public domain that you were related to the first victim, I suspect that having resolved the case would not protect you from the further and terrible wrath of the Chief Constable.
'I would therefore suggest that you take the local reporter out for a decent lunch somewhere, ply him with food and drink of his choice. I would not be averse to signing an expense claim for doing so, in the circumstances.
'I'll get the Press Office to draw something up, a crib sheet for what you can and can't tell him about Angela and about the Mandy Griffiths case. We'll feed him some titbits no one else will get. Put your best charm offensive into operation, then he won't feel the need to go digging any deeper.'
'I shall look forward to it immensely, ma'am,' Ted said with heavy irony.
'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Inspector,' she said, with the hint of a smile and a twinkle.
Ted was back on good terms with Jim Baker once more, which pleased him enormously. He had huge affection and respect for his former boss, both as a colleague and as a good friend. The return dinner party had made sure that his behaviour at their table was forgiven and forgotten.
Ted and Jim had taken the opportunity of a break in the rain to stroll into the garden and talk shop, leaving Trev and Bella at the table.
'A result of sorts, Ted,' Jim said. 'I imagine you're pleased with that, at least?'
'We should have got her sooner,' Ted said ruefully. 'No wonder the Chief Constable was jumping all over me. I had my eye off the case and we missed a thing or two.'
'Random serial killers are the hardest of all to catch, you know that. And you had good reason to be distracted. How is Trev now?'
Ted looked towards the house, smiling fondly.
'He's great,' he said. 'Better than his old self. He's so full of energy.'
'You know, you really should put in some flowering shrubs along this part of the fence.'
Jim always got uncomfortable when Ted talked about anything to do with his relationship with Trev. His changes of subject were often clumsy. Ted laughed to himself.
Trev and Bella were watching them through the open French doors.
'Is it as difficult as people say, living with a policeman?' Bella asked.
'They don't make a very good plus one, that's for sure,' Trev laughed. 'You get used to being stood up, rather a lot. And to eating on your own.'
'So how do you manage? James says you two have been together for a long time.'
'If you love someone enough, you can make anything work,' Trev smiled.
'Will you two ever get married?'
'Ted wants to. It's always me who refuses. He has enough difficulty introducing me as his partner in police circles. I don't want to make it awkward for him by being his husband. Coppers are not generally known for being an open-minded lot.
'Jim's used to us now. He's accepted us, after his fashion. But I'm not sure how he would react if he got invited to our wedding and had to make a best man speech,' he laughed.
* * *
Ted was still holding his therapist's gaze as he continued speaking. It was the longest eye contact he had ever maintained with her.
'You've helped me enormously, Carol, and I can never thank you enough,' he said. 'I've always been rubbish at talking about myself. But I've learned to do it, a bit, and it's helped.
'The other day, I took my mother out for the day. Trev was off playing Hell's Angels with Bizzie Nelson. I took her up to Roman Lakes, where I used to go fishing with my dad. She loved it. I did, too.
/> 'We walked all round the Nature Trail and the History Trail, we ate and drank in the tea rooms. Above all, we talked. I found I was able to tell her all about what happened to me at school. I think I'd subconsciously been blaming her most of my life. Not for what happened. I realise she couldn't have prevented that. But for not being there to make it better afterwards. We hugged a lot and we both cried a bit. I think we're all right now. I think I'm all right now. Hence six and a half out of ten.'
'You know where I am, Ted, if ever you feel there's still more that you need to work through,' she told him.
He stood up and they shook hands warmly. They both maintained the contact slightly longer than was strictly necessary. Carol wondered once again if he knew just how attractive he was.
'Thanks, Carol, but I don't think I will need to,' Ted said quietly. 'Now I know that Trev is going to be all right, I think that I'll be all right, too.'
THE END
About the author
L M Krier is the pen name of former journalist (court reporter) and freelance copywriter, Lesley Tither, who also writes travel memoirs under the name Tottie Limejuice. Lesley previously worked as a case tracker for the Crown Prosecution Service.
'When I'm Old and Grey' is the third book in the DI Ted Darling series of crime novels which began with 'Baby's Got Blue Eyes'. Book II, 'Two Little Boys', is now available. Book IV is scheduled for publication early in 2016
Contact details
If you would like to get in touch, please do so at:
[email protected]
facebook.com/LMKrier
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https://twitter.com/tottielimejuice
Acknowledgements
Thanks to all those who helped with this third book in the DI Ted Darling series – Book IV coming soon.
Beta readers, Jill Pennington, Emma Heath, Kate Pill, Chris Bellamy-Brown, Claire Godfrey
