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Never Forget

Page 27

by Lisa Cutts


  ‘Or I could simply be checking on my old friend,’ I added.

  ‘I’m guessing that you’re doing all three.’

  I was salivating as the roast potatoes were taken out of their pan. I went to help him carry the dishes to the table, sniffing the food as I went. I was certain that the last home-cooked meal I’d had was eaten at Stan’s. I turned back towards Stan to find him watching me.

  ‘What?’ I said, standing still.

  ‘You reminded me of a dog we once had.’

  ‘Thanks very much, Stan. You’re full of compliments today.’

  ‘The way you keep sniffing the air. It’s very comical.’

  ‘Glad you’re enjoying yourself.’ I changed the subject. I didn’t like being compared to a pet, especially a dead one. ‘I wanted to ask your views on more than one person being involved in a series of murders.’

  ‘You mean a conspiracy?’

  ‘That is a better way of putting it. If you had a suspect who was most definitely alibi’d out of one murder, couldn’t possibly have done another of them, but was a strong contender for all three, where would you track back to?’

  Stan took a sip of his wine before reaching for the carving knife. ‘I take it you are talking about Tony Birdsall and his security system alibi.’

  ‘How can you know that?’ I thought I knew the answer before he gave it.

  ‘Eric Nottingham popped round earlier. You only just missed him. I offered him dinner but his wife already thinks he’s a missing person, so he declined.’

  ‘Bloody hell, he didn’t waste much time.’ I dropped down in the chair, prodding the dish of green beans.

  ‘Language. Anyway, he said the same as you. He’s not happy either.’

  Stan strode over with two plates, large slices of roast lamb covering half of each. He sat down opposite me, bowing his head. For a minute, I was taken aback; I thought he was saying grace. Not that I had any problem with anyone wanting to give thanks for their food, but I’d never seen Stan do it before. I was busy thinking that a health scare could change a person… perhaps he’d found God. Then I realised he was wincing.

  ‘You alright, Stan?’ I put my knife and fork down, ready to go to his side.

  ‘I’m fine, just moved a bit quick.’

  ‘I tried that once. It’s not good for you.’

  ‘I forgot the mint sauce.’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ I said, walking across the kitchen to seek out the jar. I took my time with my head inside the fridge, to give Stan what I estimated was enough time to recover his composure. As I sat back down, I said, ‘This dinner is fantastic by the way.’

  Brushing my comment on the food aside, Stan paused, his fork in the air, and said, ‘Tell me what else is going on. How is the investigation going? I know that Birdsall was arrested but it doesn’t seem as if he’s your man. Not from what you and Eric tell me.’

  ‘We can’t find the other two, Stan. We’re working on it.’

  ‘I’m sure you all are, Nina – but let’s hope it’s before someone else gets stabbed.’

  Chapter 69

  4th October

  ‘How did Birdsall react when we were granted another forty-eight hours by the Magistrates’ Court?’ I asked Wingsy the following morning in the Incident Room.

  ‘Resigned to it. No doubt his brief had warned him he was being interviewed for three murders and it was almost certainly going to happen,’ he replied. ‘He kind of threw in the bit about being with Sophie Alexander at the end of the first day, and kept saying, “You’ll have to go and ask her why I was there.” He didn’t seem very worried or anxious for a man who’d been nicked for something so serious.’

  ‘I’m guessing either one cool psychopath or simply an innocent man,’ I said. ‘Innocent or not, though, I heard that the proverbial hit the fan when Sophie Alexander turned up at court at the same time as Belinda Cook.’

  ‘Yeah, it was pretty funny. Come on,’ said Wingsy, ‘let’s get a tea and you can tell me what you’ve got to do today.’

  We wandered off to the crowded kitchen while I explained about the subscriber check that had been carried out on Charles Bruce and my imminent visit to him. Squeezing into the tiny room, we waited our turn at the hot water dispenser, clutching our mugs. As I took my turn in line, I watched Ray take the milk from the fridge, unscrew the top and sniff the contents. ‘Fuck me,’ he said, screwing up his eyes at the rancid smell. ‘Anyone for yoghurt? That is rough.’

  ‘I’ll leave it,’ I said to Wingsy. ‘I’ll get a cuppa on my way out. Good luck with Birdsall today.’

  I still had to see Charles Bruce. I went to find Catherine or Ray, or, if my luck was really hitting an all-time low, Kim, to let whichever person of rank I could locate first know what I was doing. I saw Ray first.

  ‘Ah, Lolita,’ he said on seeing me in the DSs’ office doorway. ‘Have an urgent enquiry for you this morning.’

  ‘More urgent than Charles Bruce?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. Can you go and see the scorned Belinda Cook as soon as possible? She called Danny first thing this morning and started ranting and raving about Birdsall. Seems that, since the Warrant of Further Detention at the Magistrates’ Court yesterday, she may have tumbled that she was not the sole object of Birdsall’s affections. She was hollering at Danny but he’s got to carry on interviewing. Clearly he can’t leave him in the cells while he speaks to Belinda. Go and see what her problem is.’

  Speaking to Belinda was possibly going to be fairly entertaining. I’d seen total adoration in her eyes when Birdsall had fixed his stare on her a few days earlier. That was before she’d found out he was making excursions to the Alexander household. Hell hath no fury and all that.

  I weighed up who I should carry out the enquiry with. Wingsy and Danny were busy interviewing. Mark Russell had seen her previously with Pierre but I couldn’t find either of them. I would have taken Laura but she seemed to be a bit preoccupied. After careful consideration, I opted to go alone. I couldn’t see the harm in it.

  I pulled up outside Belinda’s house. The curtains were missing from the open living room windows. I’d momentarily forgotten that we’d seized the new soft furnishings. I supposed she couldn’t even rehang the old ones, as we had her curtain wire too.

  Previously, I’d seen grief, disbelief and idolisation on her face. I now expected anger. Sometimes my job didn’t disappoint. The Belinda who answered the door to me was livid. She was not to be placated.

  ‘Hello, Belinda,’ I said.

  ‘Come in,’ she spat. ‘Lucky for you I’ve calmed down.’

  I walked through the entranceway. She slammed the door behind me. ‘Go through,’ she instructed me.

  I didn’t think I’d be needing any of my protective equipment, but I’d checked that I had what I needed, including my cuffs and spray in my harness under my jacket, before I’d left the nick. Best to be on the safe side.

  Belinda took a seat on the same sofa I’d watched her sit on only two weeks ago, but this time she didn’t throw herself on to it. She positioned herself on its cushions, all the while staring at me. The look was pure malevolence. I was glad it wasn’t me she was annoyed with. This woman was in for the kill.

  ‘I’m going to tell you exactly what Tony bloody Birdsall’s been up to,’ she began.

  I nodded my understanding.

  ‘He’s backwards and forwards to Spain dealing in stolen passports. Probably other stuff as well. I’ve heard mention of drugs but I can’t give more details. You want to write this down? I’ll sign it.’

  Course I wanted to write it down, but I also wanted to watch her face with its mask of hatred. I held up my book momentarily and guggled at her again.

  ‘He used to hide the passports here. He was on the phone to someone the day before you nicked him and I heard him use the word “blackmail” and something about a boat in France somewhere.’

  It wasn’t that Belinda’s comments weren’t both useful and fascinating, not to mention hilarious n
ow that Tony was out of the picture, but I needed details or this was all pointless.

  I began with, ‘When did you see the passports?’

  Her face dropped before she bared her teeth at me again. ‘I didn’t see them. Tony told me about them.’

  ‘Where did he keep them?’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me. Said it would be for the best in case he got arrested.’

  This was no use to me at all. I carried on along the usual line of questioning. Eventually, I said to Belinda, ‘I’ll take a statement from you, Belinda, but all of this is your word against Tony’s. I’ll get a couple of colleagues round and with your permission we’ll search your house and garden, but without finding any passports or such items I’m not sure how useful this will be.’

  I was about to add my thanks for her calling us when she grabbed my attention by saying, ‘Doubt there’ll be anything here now. I think he’d already got rid of most of them and his mate Adam took the last one. That’s what Tony told me, anyway.’

  ‘Adam?’ I asked. ‘When was Adam here?’

  ‘He came round the day before Tony got arrested. He and Tony rowed in the hallway. I heard shouting and a couple of thumps. I went to see what they were doing. Tony had Adam in a neck-hold up against the coat rack behind the door. Tony’s much bigger and stronger than Adam so it didn’t last long. Tony made some comment like “Have the passport, then”.’ Belinda looked off into the distance as if she was trying to recall the scene. I made a note to ask her what coats had been hanging up. I reckoned I might have nicely put in place how Adam Spencer’s hair had got caught in Birdsall’s jacket zip.

  Without turning to face me again, Belinda continued. ‘Tony let go of Adam and he fell to the floor. He threw something at him. It looked like a passport.’ She now stared over at me. ‘As he dropped the passport, Tony said to him, “If you go to the police now, they’ll think you’re involved and they’ll think I’m involved. I’ve invested too much in this deal to get caught now. No one likes a grass, Adam.” Before you ask me, officer, I have no idea what the deal was. You ask Birdsall.’

  Belinda was as helpful as she could be in her lust for retribution. There were a couple of problems with it, of course. She was scant on details for starters and, despite my calling for another couple of DCs to search the house with me, we found nothing. The search still took hours. We hadn’t expected to find much, as the house had already been searched immediately after Birdsall’s arrest, and since then he’d been at Riverstone nick and the local Magistrates’ Court. Still, it needed doing. The final problem I had with what she’d told me was that any defence barrister worth a jot would wipe the floor with Belinda in court. She’d be made out to be the wronged woman, hatching a plot to bring about Birsdall’s demise. That, in fairness, was true. Still, there was no other option, so I spent the rest of the day with her, gaining little information but that was the nature of my job: you had to take the ups with the downs. I really didn’t fancy too many more downs.

  Chapter 70

  Friday night, and I got to spend it all on my own. It didn’t bother me and never had but lately I’d been coming home, locking the door and shying away from looking out into the dark. The nights were getting longer. The shadows cast by the trees were invading my kitchen earlier in the day than I would have liked. I’d taken to closing the kitchen blinds, something I’d never bothered with previously, as the only eyes I had thought were likely to peek into my domain from the garden were those of a bird or nocturnal creature.

  As I was coming to the end of my first glass of wine, Laura telephoned me.

  ‘Hi, honey,’ I said.

  ‘Hi, Nina. I’ve got some news,’ she said.

  ‘Good or bad?’

  ‘Kind of good.’

  ‘Go on,’ I said. By this time, I’d sat down at the kitchen table.

  ‘I know I’ve been acting a bit weird lately. You must have noticed?’

  ‘No,’ I lied, tucking the phone against my shoulder so that I could free up a hand to top up my wine easily.

  There was a pause as I pictured her trying to put something into words for me. ‘Well… it’s that I’m pregnant.’

  I was stunned enough to stop pouring claret. I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad.

  ‘It’s early days yet, so keep it to yourself,’ she gushed. ‘It felt so odd keeping it from you, but now I’m glad you know.’

  ‘Well, congratulations, Laura. I’m really pleased for you. Let me know if you need anything. Do many other people know? Such as the father?’

  ‘Well…’ Another hesitation. ‘I’ve only told a couple of people and no, the father doesn’t know.’

  ‘Do you want to come over here tonight? I’d love to come to you but I’m probably already over the limit.’

  ‘That’s some going, Nin – you can only have been home forty minutes. No, I’m having an early night but I’ll see you Monday.’

  I stared at the phone next to my diminishing bottle of wine. I was about to quaff my third glass in one go when my phone rang again. The sight of the one word ‘Wingsy’ in the display made me smile.

  ‘Hi, Wingsy,’ I said.

  ‘You still in the office?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I got home two glasses ago. You OK?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Nina… don’t worry about it, but Birdsall’s being bailed.’

  ‘I wasn’t worried about it until you told me not to worry about it. Now I’m worried.’

  ‘Why are you worried?’

  ‘Because you just told me not to be.’

  ‘Women and their logic.’

  ‘Wingsy, why wasn’t there enough to charge him?’

  ‘Everything he’s told us regarding where he was and what he was doing was checking out. Part of the reason we got the detention extension in the first place was because a lot of stuff was coming back from Spain. We’re hopeful we’re getting Spencer in soon. You on your own tonight?’

  ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘No reason, Nin. Just… just call if you need anything.’

  He ended the call. I sat stock still at my kitchen table, holding the phone to my ear. I would have felt better if he hadn’t called.

  Chapter 71

  5th October

  A fitful Friday night’s sleep was followed by a working Saturday. Always a useful time for police officers to visit people who were unavailable during the week. I had tried to visit Charles Bruce with Pierre before going off duty the previous evening but we’d got no reply. Personally, I’d been grateful, as I’d wanted to get home, but I’d promised Pierre I would see to it first thing in the morning. It couldn’t be put off any longer.

  In the office, I found the paperwork where I’d abandoned it next to my file. As Wingsy and I got into the Golf to drive to the location, I saw him throw a carrier bag on to the back seat.

  ‘That looked suspiciously like a bag of your five-a-day in there, mate,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, Mel’s got me on that poxy diet again this week.’

  ‘Clearly it’s doing you good. Your mood’s improving. Shame it’s not making your hair grow back,’ I said.

  The address we had for Charles Bruce was fifteen miles away, in a fairly decent part of the county, on another new estate in Woodford. As we drove along the main through-road for the estate, the sprawl of immaculate three-storey townhouses ran out somewhere near to the children’s play area, and the social housing began. This was where we pulled up to hear what Charlie had to tell us.

  ‘Before we go inside,’ said Wingsy, ‘tell me where you got this bloke’s number from again.’

  ‘OK. I’ll be upfront with you, you know that. It was given to me by an old acquaintance’s son. He won’t have anything to do with the police. Lifetime of mistrust won’t go away because I take his mum some biscuits now and again. He told me that this fella Charlie knew Daphne Headingly and said she was a pretty decent woman. Taught him to read when others had given up on him. He considered her to be a harmless old bird.’


  Wingsy didn’t look bowled over by what I was telling him.

  ‘I’ve done the checks on him and this house,’ I said. ‘He only has a caution for possession of cannabis when he was a lad. I’d never walk us in here blind.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Nin, I trust you, girl. Let’s say hello.’

  We stepped out of the car and made our way towards No. 27, our target address. We were barely a few feet from the kerbside when the front door opened to reveal a bald white male I could only describe as a man mountain. He stood on the doorstep, watching us walk towards him as he folded his arms across his chest, vest top begging for mercy across a gargantuan torso.

  ‘Fucking hell, Nin,’ said Wingsy in tones as low as he could muster, ‘the trust I have in you may just have been kicked in the nuts.’

  Despite walking towards a pretty hacked-off-looking bare-knuckle fighter, I had to suppress a laugh.

  ‘Mr Charles Bruce?’ I began. This was my enquiry, after all. ‘I’m Detective Nina Foster, from the enquiry into Daphne Headingly’s death. Can we – ?’

  I had rarely seen such an immediate shift in facial features. His cheeks sagged and his eyes lowered for a second. Then he was back.

  ‘Better come in, then, love. And your mate,’ he said, in Wingsy’s direction. ‘Don’t know what the world’s coming to, killing an old lady.’ He moved back to allow us in. He was surprisingly light on his feet when he moved.

  In the kitchen, I watched Charlie glance at the water level on the electric kettle, switching it on to boil before turning and saying, ‘Take it you two want a brew?’

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ I said. ‘How did you know Daphne Headingly?’

  ‘Daphne was alright. Used to be that a kid like me – shit, useless family, filthy dirty all the time, getting into fights, didn’t want to be at school, picked on ’cos I was always trying to act hard – well, there was a time when kids like me dropped out of the system. Couldn’t read and write, so they called you thick.’ He reached towards the neatly lined-up row of mugs on the window sill behind the sink, stopped with his hand around one and said, ‘To be fair to the teachers, I was a right little fucker.’

 

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