Walk On By: DI Ted Darling Book 7

by L M Krier

  The Ice Queen shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘What are we coming to indeed, when people are capable of such acts, and they become spectator sports? The only glimmer of hope is that, presumably, some of these distasteful videos will appear online somewhere at some point and we might be able to find them and trace the attacker that way. Assuming uniformed officers attending haven’t been able to see any of the footage to identify the attacker already.’

  ‘I was planning to put Océane on to finding whatever she can online. At the moment we haven’t anything for her to work on for Croesus, so I might as well see if we can use her to help wrap up some of the assaults. I don’t even know how long it took first responders to get there, so any onlookers might have been long gone, complete with film footage.’

  ‘I’m fully in agreement with that. In view of the constant restraints and pressure to reduce personnel, it is essential that we can show that every single member of your team is fully employed on cases all the time.’

  It was later than Ted would have liked before he got home. There was no sign of his mother, but Trev was at the kitchen table with his TEFL work strewn all over everywhere. Whatever he was doing, Trev somehow always managed to make a mess. It was usually Ted who tidied up after him.

  ‘How is she?’ Ted asked him, pausing to kiss him, then bending to stroke each of the six cats in turn as they came to greet him, purring their pleasure.

  ‘In bed, sleeping, poor thing. She was so shaken up, Ted. It was awful. She was trembling and weepy and couldn’t really do anything. She just let me help her get cleaned up, then I made her some tea and put her to bed. Luckily, the painkillers they gave her are strong and she went out like a light, so I’ve left her to it for now. I just keep popping up to check how she’s doing.’

  Ted leaned in to hug him.

  ‘I am so sorry I couldn’t be there for her myself. I’m a rubbish son, and a useless partner. I let you both down. And I’ve not even been able to go and see Jim yet.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Annie understands, and so do I. And I don’t mind at all, I honestly don’t. I love her too, you know. She’s been more like a mother to me in the short time I’ve known her than my own ever was in fifteen years.

  ‘One of us will need to nip up to her house and get her a change of clothes and some toiletries. I can do that quickly now, if you like? I’ve eaten, and it won’t take me long. How was your day?’

  Ted made a face.

  ‘I’ve got to appear at a press conference tomorrow morning and you know how much I hate that.’

  ‘I’ll choose you the best shirt and tie to wear. I can’t take another day off tomorrow, we’ve got too much work on. But I’ll nip home at lunchtime to make sure Annie’s all right, and we can hopefully both watch you on telly together, if it makes the lunchtime news. She’ll love that.’

  Trev was interrupted by his mobile. Ted sat down at the table and started looking idly through Trev’s coursework. He could never understand how someone so academically brilliant could work amongst such chaos.

  ‘Hi, Shewee,’ Trev greeted his younger sister by her nickname, then grinned at Ted. ‘Oh, sor-ree. Siobhan. Well, of course, if Henry doesn’t like your nickname, I shall stop using it immediately. So Henry is still an item?

  ‘No, of course I understand you’re just good friends. And no, neither of us thought for a moment that you were sleeping together.’

  He winked at Ted as he spoke. They had both met his sister’s wealthy, horsey friend and were both convinced his interest in Siobhan was not of the kind she hoped it might be.

  ‘Seriously, though, you’re still young, there’s plenty of time to find the right person. It may not be Henry. Just don’t let him try to change you too much. If he likes you, he’ll accept you as you are.

  ‘Ted’s fine, he sends his love. Good luck in the event at the weekend. I’d come if I could but I’m looking after Ted’s mum. She had a bit of a fall and broke her wrist.’

  ‘So, we’re not allowed to call her Shewee any more?’ Ted asked when he rang off.

  ‘Henry doesn’t approve. Having totally changed the way she looks and dresses, he’s now decreed what she can and can’t call herself. I really hope little sis is not going to have her heart broken. She still thinks Henry cares for her, but she’s clearly just the token girlfriend to take home to show his parents he’s interested in girls. I think you and I both know that’s probably not the case.’

  This time the wheelchair was tipped over as well, partly across Ted’s father as he lay in a pool of his own urine. Ted tried to keep all trace of impatience out of his voice as he went across the room to right them both.

  ‘How did you manage to tip the chair over as well? You need to be careful. You could have bashed your head on the fireplace. Or is that what you were trying to do?’

  ‘I want you to get me some cannabis.’

  ‘Cannabis?’ Ted echoed, as he helped his father to lock his arms around his neck so he could heft him back up and into the chair. ‘You know I can’t do that. I’m a police officer. What do you want cannabis for, anyway?’

  ‘The pain. You have no idea how bad it can get. The regular medication barely touches it some days. I’ve heard that cannabis can work miracles. I want you to get me some.’

  ‘Well, we’ll go and see your doctor, see if you can get it on prescription. I’ve heard it may be possible. Have you had anything to eat today? You’ve not touched the sandwiches I made you, I see.’

  ‘I hate cheese and Branston.’

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since I decided that there must be some things I can make up my own mind about. Are you going out tonight?’

  ‘You know I am. It’s my judo evening. I’ll get you cleaned up, then I’ll make you something to eat before I go out. What do you fancy?’

  ‘Boiled eggs and dippy soldiers. Stop treating me like a child, Ted. I’m still your father, even if I’m not much of a man.’

  Ted picked up an empty bottle from the floor and took it through to the kitchen before wheeling his father to the specially adapted bathroom at the rear of the property.

  ‘You really need to do something about the drinking, dad. Why don’t you try going to AA again?’

  ‘And why don’t you try not being so judgemental? Why do they call it Alcoholics Anonymous, anyway? There’s nothing anonymous about saying, “I’m Joe, I’m an alcoholic. My wife left me because I can’t get it up on demand now I’m a cripple and my son patronises me and treats me as if I was five”.’

  Ted put a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry, dad. I don’t mean to.’

  His father lifted a shaking hand, put it over Ted’s and patted it.

  ‘I’m sorry too, son. That was uncalled for. I know I’m a burden to you. I get so sick of these four walls and four wheels. Would you take me with you tonight?’

  Ted hesitated.

  ‘You know I like to walk there, get limbered up on the way.’

  ‘I can still wheel myself. You just need to give me a bit of a hand for the kerbs, in places. Or are you ashamed of me? Is that because I’m a cripple, or a drunk?’

  Ted had helped him out of most of his clothes and was manoeuvring the wheelchair and the slide board to get him across to the seat over the bath.

  ‘That’s not fair, and you know it.’

  His father was crying now. Tears seemed to come so easily to him recently. The stereotypical lachrymose alcoholic. The weight was dropping off him, too. That visit to the doctor wasn’t going to wait much longer.

  ‘I’m sorry, son. You’re right, that wasn’t fair. I’m being a selfish old sod. Tell me about your day. Did you have to shoot anyone today?’

  Ted smiled.

  ‘Not today. Luckily, it doesn’t happen every day. And I will take you tonight. Of course I will. It will be nice for you to have a bit of an outing. We can go for a drink with some of the other members afterwards. But just one for you, and a couple of
snakebites for me, all right? And don’t forget, I’m taking you away for the weekend next month, to the shooting championships.’

  ‘You’re a good son. You should be taking your boyfriend, not an old wreck like me. I don’t deserve you. I really don’t.’

  This time Ted woke without crying out, though his heart was racing. He had the strange dream sensation of falling from a great height and landing with a jolt. It had not been enough to make Trev do more than sigh in his sleep and snuggle down even further under the duvet.

  Ted checked the time on his mobile phone. He decided he might as well get up and go into work even earlier than he’d planned. He knew he was not going to find sleep again easily. He slid soundlessly out of bed, pulled on his sweats and padded to the spare room. He opened the door quietly and put his head round to see if his mother was all right.

  ‘Teddy?’ she asked, her voice sounding anxious.

  In the street light filtering through the curtains, he could see her trying to sit up, struggling to switch on the bedside lamp, movements made awkward by the plaster cast on her wrist. Ted went across to do it for her.

  ‘Sorry if I woke you, mam. Did you sleep all right? I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  ‘I was already awake, bach. Dere, come and sit with me for a moment, if you’ve got time. I want to talk to you.’

  ‘How are you feeling? Is it painful? What can I get you? And don’t worry, I’m making sure that the person who did this to you is caught and brought to trial, as soon as possible.’

  She moved her injured arm to lay her hand awkwardly over his, weighed down by the plaster.

  ‘I slept a bit, but I’ve been awake a lot, too, thinking. And I’ve made a decision. That man kept shouting at me to go back to my own country. So that’s what I want to do, Teddy, bach. I want to go back home, to Wales. Not just for a visit. I want to go back to live there.’

  Ted was surprised at the depth of feeling her news invoked in him. His mother had not long been back in his life and now he risked losing her once more.

  ‘But you’ve made your home here. And you’ve got me now, and Trev ...’

  ‘Stockport was never my home, bach. I was here because of Joe. We got the chance to rent that specially adapted house, which was perfect for his needs. Then I stayed for my mam, because she was well settled here, and because I always hoped I’d find you again. And now I have, and I know you’re doing so well in your work and you’re very happy with Trev. You managed without me before, and you’ll go on managing.

  ‘It’s not that far for you to come and visit me, whenever you can. And we can keep in touch by phone, all the time. Trev’s promised to help sort me out with a computer and emails and that thing where you can see people while you talk to them. Skype, is it?’

  Ted felt another slight pang that his mother had clearly discussed her plans with Trev before him. Then he mentally reproached himself. He wasn’t there enough for her to talk to him, even when she was hurt and clearly needed him.

  ‘Aldwyth has been going on at me ever since my mam died to go back home. She’s even said I could share her house, now she’s on her own. We get on well, always have done, always stayed in touch, and it would help both of us, financially. I could sell mam’s house, have a bit of money put by. And it’s high time I retired. I could afford to do it, if I did all that.

  ‘So it’s time for me to do exactly what that man told me to do. I’m going to go home, Teddy.’

  Chapter Eight

  Ted was not thrilled to find himself alone with Marston for the pre press conference briefing. He had assumed the Press Officer would be there as well, as was standard procedure, but was told she would be joining them later. He didn’t relish the prospect of it being just the two of them but there was nothing he could do about it.

  ‘Right, turn your mobile off. I don’t want us to be interrupted. Or recorded,’ Marston began.

  In private, he didn’t even make a pretence of asking after Ted’s mother. Ted did as he was instructed, then left his phone on the table in front of him, in plain view.

  ‘You seem to have made bugger all progress on the killing so far, but we don’t want to tell the public that. I’ll start the conference off and field most of the questions. You sit there trying to look as if you know what you’re doing. At some point some bright spark is going ask if we’re confident and anticipating an early arrest. I’ll bat that question over to you. You can tell them you’re using every resource available, you’re all over the case and you’re definitely confident of an early result.’

  ‘With respect, sir, wouldn’t it be better to give a more guarded response? We’re going to look a bit foolish if we don’t deliver after a promise like that.’

  ‘Not we, Darling. You. You’re the one who’s going to make that promise, on camera. You’re the one on whose head the shit is going to descend from a great height when you don’t pull it off. And I don’t think you’re going to. I think your friends in high places are finally going to see what I saw long ago. You’re not up to the job. You’ve just been lucky up to now.’

  Ted wasn’t worried. No one who knew him, and that included the Chief Constable, would think that such rash boasts were his own words. Marston was trying to set him up for a fall and it was in danger of backfiring on him, if he was not careful.

  ‘Whatever you say, sir,’ he said evenly.

  Marston’s face darkened but whatever retort he was about to make was interrupted by a fortuitous knock on the door and the Press Officer coming in, with her bundle of documents. She looked surprised to see both men already there, clearly in discussion.

  ‘Sorry, Chief, did I get the time wrong? I thought I was early, but it seems I might be late,’ she said apologetically.

  Her form of address to Marston was not lost on Ted. Chief was usually reserved for Chief Constables or their deputies. Some senior officers with ideas above their station insisted on it for the rank of Chief Superintendent. Clearly Marston was one of them.

  ‘No, not at all, Jayne, DCI Darling and I were just catching up on old times. Please, take a seat. Do you two know each other?’

  Ted was the old-fashioned sort. He’d stood up as soon as the young woman came into the room. He knew that some women, probably with more modern ideas than he had, didn’t like it but he couldn’t help it. It was the way he’d been brought up and he made no apology for it. He smiled as he shook her hand.

  She sat down with them as they went over how the conference was to unfold. Ted noticed that Marston gave an entirely different version of the line he’d outlined earlier when it was just the two of them for what Ted’s input was going to be.

  Press conferences were the stuff of Ted’s nightmares. He hated fuss, hated being put on display. He usually spent his time scowling. He knew this time he was going to have to pull something out of the bag, live on camera, that would reassure the public whilst sticking as near as he dared to what he’d been told earlier. Marston was determined to hang him out to dry, clearly, unless he boxed clever. Ted was not a political animal. He was a copper, plain and simple, and a good one, despite the Chief Super’s views. These smoke and mirror games were well outside his comfort zone. He wished Jim Baker was there to watch his back, as he usually did. It made him feel even worse that he’d not yet been able to go and see his boss and friend.

  There was a good turnout for the conference. Clearly the idea of a scam escalating into a killing had caught the interest of the media. Marston went confidently through his introduction and summary of the case so far. He was good at it, Ted had to acknowledge that, although he viewed him as more of a PR person than a proper copper. He could see the local reporter from Stockport amongst the pack; Pocket Billiards’ replacement. She looked even younger and more timid than when he’d first met her in the pub.

  Marston finished what he was saying, dealing skilfully with questions on the bogus police side of the enquiry. Then he introduced Ted and threw him to the wolves in the form of saying he would answer an
y questions on the murder investigation.

  All Ted could think was that at some point, Trev and his mother were going to be watching his performance. He kept his mind focused on that, looked into the cameras and tried to make his expression as composed and sincere as he could. To his surprise, it was Penny Hunter who leapt in with the first question and it was a gift to him.

  ‘DCI Darling, is it true that you have a one hundred per cent clear-up rate in murder investigations to date and is that why you’ve been chosen to head this part of the enquiry?’

  ‘Thank you for the question, Penny. I head up an extremely experienced team in Stockport. Thanks to their hard work, yes, we do have a good record. It’s this dedication and determination which makes us hopeful of a good result in this case.’

  Ted felt Marston shift in his seat next to him. He knew that he wanted Ted to sound more confident than that.

  The questions started to come thick and fast.

  ‘Do you have a suspect yet for the killing?’

  ‘At this early stage in the enquiry, it would not be helpful to go into such detail. As soon as there is more information, you will all be kept informed.’

  Another weight change from Marston in his chair. He was clearly furious that Ted wasn’t following the direction he had given him but there was nothing he could do about it under the scrutiny of the press. Questions were still being thrown at Ted and he was desperately playing ping pong, trying to answer them in the best possible way.

  When the question the Chief Super had been hoping for came, he cleared his throat pointedly. Now Ted would have to tread with extreme caution.

  ‘Are you confident of making an early arrest for the killing?’

  ‘We are always optimistic of an early conclusion to any case. As I’ve said, we have a dedicated and experienced team working on this, with all the resources at our disposal. I would hope to have further news for you all soon.’

  Marston wound things up then, as the press started to leave and he and Ted stood up, he took hold of Ted’s arm in a vice-like grip.