Rough Justice (Justice Series Book 10)

by M A Comley

  “Oh no, you’re not going to watch Titanic again!”

  Lorne cupped her hand around the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, “I damn well hope not. It’s a great film. I just wish they hadn’t made it so bloody long.”

  “I hear you on that one. Enjoy your evening, whatever you decide to watch, and look out for the side effects of those jacket spuds, too.”

  Carol hung up, leaving Lorne staring at the phone.

  Charlie appeared in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. That woman never ceases to amaze me. What film have you chosen?”

  “Marley and Me. Are you up for the tear-jerking finale?”

  “Just make sure my wine glass is topped up all the way through. I should be fine then. Let me crack on with this. I’ll soon have it finished.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one holding you up.” Charlie spun on her heel and left the kitchen again.

  Lorne quickly assembled the ingredients of the meal and lit the oven before pouring both of them a glass of wine. Before long, she and Charlie were tucking into their jacket potatoes and laughing at the exploits of a golden Labrador causing chaos on the screen. By the end of the film, Lorne was feeling maudlin and patted the sofa for Henry to climb up for a cuddle.

  The old boy just about managed the task but yelped when he got his leg caught between the cushions.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

  Henry licked her face, forgiving her.

  Ten minutes later, when the girls were getting ready to go up to bed, an exhausted Tony entered through the back door.

  Lorne collapsed into his arms, overwhelmed by the three glasses of red wine she’d consumed. “I missed you tonight, handsome.”

  Tony wrapped his arms around her and snuggled into her neck. “Well, that’s good to know. It would be preferable if you’d actually told me when you were stone-cold sober, but this will have to suffice.”

  “Cheeky sod. You know I wuve you.” She hiccupped and looked up at him, her gaze blurry and an odd sensation sweeping through her tummy. “Twony… I don’t feel so good.”

  Tony swept her up in his arms and took her upstairs to the bathroom. “You stay here. I’ll be back after I’ve checked the kennels and locked up downstairs, all right?”

  Her head swam, and she smiled at his swaying figure in the doorway. “Okay, don’t be wong.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In the morning, Lorne regretted downing a bottle of wine.

  “Oh, God, I feel like crap!” She rolled over, placed her feet on the floor, and held her throbbing head in her open hands.

  “And you’re expecting sympathy from me?” Tony asked. He crawled behind her and placed his head over her shoulder.

  Lorne pulled her head away. “Do you have to shout?”

  He jumped off the bed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey, I have to go in there first,” she called after him, wincing when the screech in her voice injured her throbbing head further.

  “You should’ve got your arse out of bed quicker then. I’ll only be five minutes. A coffee would be most welcome. Thanks, darling,” her husband shouted above the noise of the running shower.

  Tentatively, Lorne descended the stairs. After greeting Henry with his morning kiss and cuddle, she filled the kettle, slumped into the chair, and waited for the water to boil.

  Tony joined her ten minutes later, his hair still damp, and his eyes twinkling with devilment. He waved a finger at her and winked. “That’ll teach you not to overindulge on a school night.”

  Ignoring the jibe, she asked, “Are you starting work early? Is it the same case?”

  “Yep, something came to light last night, and Joe and I agreed on a new strategy for today.”

  “That’s a little evasive. What do you mean?”

  Tony picked up Lorne’s lukewarm coffee, downed it, then crossed the room to the back door. “I’ll tell you tonight. I’m hoping it will be an early one today—if things go according to plan, that is. The painkillers are in the bathroom cabinet. You might want to take a packet to work with you. I can’t see that wearing off any time soon, Mrs. Warner. Shame on you for getting into such a state.”

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s all Charlie’s fault for putting that darn movie on. See you later. Have a good day. Ring me at lunchtime if you can.”

  “I will. Have a good day. Love you.”

  Lorne was the last member of the team to arrive at work. Her head still felt as if someone had shoved it in a bubble tied to a set of drums. “What’s with all the excitement?”

  Katy frowned and approached her. “You look rough. Not feeling too good?”

  “Self-inflicted. Hey, you should have laid eyes on me an hour ago.”

  Katy shook her head, not amused in the slightest. “Taken anything for this self-inflicted punishment, have you?”

  “Yep. I’m well on the road to recovery, boss. I promise it won’t affect my work.”

  “It better not, Lorne, for your sake.” Katy turned and addressed the rest of the team: “Okay, as we know, the case was shown to the public on Crimewatch last night. The important thing is to monitor any calls we receive, giving priority to any sightings of Noelle herself or her car. So far, we have two possible leads that we need to chase up this morning. Let me know right away as the calls happen, okay?”

  “What sort of sightings are they?” Lorne asked.

  “One said she recognised Noelle. The woman wasn’t sure when or where she saw her, though. I’ll send Graham out to get a statement from her. The other call was about the car. Again, the information was a little obscure, nothing definitive we can sink our teeth into just yet. Graham, check the locations of the two calls and see if you can fit them in at the same time, will you?”

  “Yes, boss.” He picked up the two sheets of paper from his desk and studied them. “From what I can tell, they’re within a few miles of each other.”

  “Okay, that’s doable this morning, right? Also, can you pinpoint the locations on the map as the calls come in? Let’s start forming a picture of possible sightings. It’ll help us weed out the ones we shouldn’t be wasting our time on—you know, the ones we think might be too far afield.”

  “The trouble with that is, we can’t really discount anything that comes in, boss, not without feeling the wrath of the super, or indeed, Noelle’s family. We owe it to them to chase up every lead. Who knows how far the person who abducted Noelle travelled before…” Lorne paused and glanced over her shoulder at the door, just in case any unexpected visitors were lurking there. “Before they dumped her body. If her body was discarded, we still can’t rule out the possibility of Noelle being held somewhere. That could turn out to be the remotest part of London for all we know.”

  “Okay, that’s a fair enough point. For now, let’s gather the evidence and map everything out. I’d still like you to interview those two callers, Graham,” Katy insisted. She pulled Lorne to one side and whispered, “If Carol is to be believed, then I don’t want to lead the team down the wrong path.”

  “I agree. Talking of Carol, I rang her last night, and she came up with two initials.”

  “Of the attacker?”

  “Nope, the victim. She came up with N and C.” Lorne smiled when she noted an impressed eyebrow disappear into her partner’s fringe.

  “Interesting, Noelle Chesterfield, eh? I don’t suppose she could embellish you with the initials of a possible suspect?”

  “No such luck. I did ask, though. Maybe something will come through soon. I think she’s having a torrid time with the girl’s tortured soul.” Lorne shrugged. “I don’t have a clue how these things work. We’ll just need to be patient. I’ll ring her when I get home this evening. I told her to take a few days off from work.”

  “Did you see the programme last night?”

  Lorne cringed and admitted she hadn’t. “Sorry, Charlie and I made the most of Tony being stuck at work.”

  “I see, hence t
he hangover this morning. Well, the show did us proud. The girl who played Noelle was a great likeness, so I envisage a mountain of calls coming our way today. Mind if I talk frankly?”

  “Go for it.” Lorne feared she knew what her partner was about to say next and prepared herself for a major dressing down.

  “I’m not one for going OTT about these kinds of things, but I do draw the line at members of my team showing up for work hungover and looking like they’d spent the night at a zombie’s initiation party. If this had arisen with any other team member, I would have sent them home and docked their wages.”

  “I’m sorry, Katy. I’ve never done it before, and I’ll certainly think twice about doing it in the future. I promise it won’t affect my work. If it does, you have my permission to dock my wages.”

  “I’ll do more than that, Lorne. I’ll have no hesitation in suspending you,” she warned. As Katy turned and headed for her office, she shot over her shoulder, “Don’t let me down, Sergeant.”

  “I won’t,” Lorne called back, regretting it when her words reverberated around the inside of her skull again, punishing her.

  Calls dribbled in during the course of the morning. Then, around eleven o’clock, Lorne answered a call that had the potential to break the case wide open. As soon as she hung up, she knocked on Katy’s door and entered.

  Katy looked up, frowned, and sat back in her chair. “Why did you knock? I’m not mad at you, Lorne. You know you can come in whenever you want to.”

  “I’d rather knock than have my head chewed off. It’s in a delicate state this morning, as you’re fully aware. Seriously, I have some amazing news.” She smiled and waved the sheet of paper in front of her as she dropped into the spare chair.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think we might have located Noelle’s car. In fact, I’m pretty certain we have.”

  Katy eagerly sat forward. “Really? That’s wonderful news. Where?”

  “Here’s the thing—the car was just about to be crushed. The scrapyard owner watched the programme last night. He recognised the make, colour, and model, and the plate number.”

  “Wow, that’s fortunate. Is it far?”

  “About twenty minutes away. I’ve called forensics. They’re on their way over to the site now.”

  Katy stood and slipped on her jacket. “Come on, let’s get over there and see for ourselves. This is brilliant news.”

  By the time they arrived at the location, forensics had cordoned off the area. Lorne and Katy introduced themselves to the scrapyard owner. He pointed to the vehicle and walked with them to the car.

  “Mr. Cheedle, can you tell us a little bit more about the car? Where it was found? How did it come to be here?” Katy asked.

  “No problem. I’ll have to double check my records to make sure I’ve got all the facts straight, but from what I can remember, a young guy dropped the car off on the back of a loader. Said it wasn’t worth keeping anymore because the engine had died. We get so many cars in here. It was an older model, so I just took his word for it and gave him the scrap value.”

  Katy glanced at Lorne then back at the short, chubby man. “So you’d have this guy’s name and address on record then?”

  “Yep, although whether he gave me his real address, I have no way of knowing. I can dig that information out for you.”

  “That’s great. Can you do that for us now?” Lorne asked, eager to see if any of the names on their suspect list matched the man who’d dropped off the vehicle.

  The man groaned and retraced his steps back to the porta cabin office near the entrance.

  “I bet it turns out to be a fake address and identity. The question is whether the guy found the vehicle after it was abandoned and brought it here just to pick up the scrap money, or was the man who deposited the car here Noelle’s abductor?” Lorne said.

  Katy nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Another thing that bothers me about this is why the scrapyard didn’t log the vehicle at DVLA. He has to, doesn’t he?”

  “Let’s get all the info we need from him first and then pull him up on that,” Lorne replied.

  The crusher on the other side of the yard whined as it squeezed the life out of an old wreck. Unease gnawed at Lorne’s stomach when she was reminded about the case she and Pete had solved involving a gang of men who made it their business to rid the country of all the unwanted racing greyhounds.

  “Lorne? Are you okay? You look peaky all of a sudden.”

  “I’m fine. My mind just revisited an old case. That’s all. I’ll tell you about it some time.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Here he comes.”

  The man reappeared, panting heavily. He handed a piece of paper to Katy. She read the name, shook her head then handed it over to Lorne. She was disappointed that she didn’t recognise it, either.

  “We’ll pay the gentleman a visit. I don’t suppose you can give us a description of the man, Mr. Cheedle?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Please try. Anything will do. Any distinguishing features, perhaps?” Katy urged.

  “Let me think.” He closed his eyes for a moment or two then opened them quickly. “A tattoo, here, on his forearm.”

  “That’s great. Of what? Can you remember?”

  “No. Some kind of animal maybe. Not one hundred percent certain of that, though.”

  “That’s a start. What about his physique?”

  “Well, he was around the six-foot mark, I guess. Skinny-gutted sod, he was.”

  “Hair colour? Blemished or clear skin? Anything else would really help us form a picture of this man.” Katy smiled and distractedly glanced in the direction of Noelle’s car, where the two forensics men dressed in white overalls had just opened the driver’s door.

  “Sorry, that’s all you’re going to get out of me. I just can’t remember that far back. We get loads of people through those gates a week.”

  “I bet. But how many of them turn up with a car loaded on a trailer?” Katy asked, a tight smile tugging at her lips.

  “You’d be surprised,” the man replied sharply.

  “Okay, I’ll have to concede that you can’t remember the nitty-gritty facts. How about this then? When a car comes into your yard, aren’t you supposed to send the log book to DVLA in Swansea to strike it off the system?”

  He frowned and scratched his head. “That’s right.”

  “See, this is our problem. If you had reported the car, struck it off, then maybe our case would have been solved a long time ago. Did the car not ring a bell with you six months ago when the case appeared on the local news?” Katy said.

  “For a start, I don’t watch the local news or get the local paper, before you ask that one. The only reason the car came to mind last night was because of the show. I did the honest-citizen kind of thing and reported it, and now that you’re giving me grief, I’m kinda wishing I hadn’t bothered informing you.”

  “I’m sorry, if that’s how it’s coming across. We’re really appreciative of you contacting us. We’re just eager to know the car’s whereabouts for the last six months, since the owner was reported missing. If the car was brought here within the first day or two, then it’ll narrow our search down. Another question for you, Mr. Cheedle. Do you usually store cars for six months or more? Wouldn’t you need to crush them sooner to avoid the yard reaching its full capacity?”

  “Ordinarily, yes. But it depends on the make of the car and if it is more valuable to have the car sitting around here or just getting rid. This particular car, we’ve found useful to have hanging around for the spare-parts value. As for registering it, the guy who brought it in swore blind that he’d sent the paperwork off to DVLA. I didn’t have any reason not to believe him about that. He seemed genuine enough to me.”

  “Then I’ll have to accept that. We’ll just check on the forensic guys and then get out of your hair. Thanks for your time and for contacting us.” Katy dismissed th
e man, who grudgingly turned and started walking back to his office.

  “Let’s hope we can find evidence in the car,” Lorne said as they strode over to the vehicle.

  Katy introduced them both to the forensics team. “I know you’ve only just started, but have you found anything yet?”

  The taller of the two men, who’d introduced himself as Jim, smiled and tapped his nose with his index finger. “As it happens, yes. From what we were told about the victim’s height, it would appear that the seat position has been altered.”

  Lorne snorted. “That figures, if the bloke who dropped it off here got in the vehicle. Any way of knowing how tall the person was? A rough guess perhaps?”

  “I’d say between five ten and six two, and that would be a very rough guess off the top of my head. The next step is to look for any possible DNA, although given the location, I’m sure that will prove to be plentiful and not the kind of DNA we’re after…”

  “Hold on a moment. What do we have here?” The other forensic guy pulled something out from under the driver’s seat and held it up for all to see.

  Lorne gasped. “A handbag. Noelle’s handbag?”

  “Looks that way. I’ll get a pair of gloves for you both so you can peep inside before we take it back to the lab.”

  Katy nudged Lorne. “This could be just what we need to draw this to a conclusion.”

  “I agree. Good job we came down here. It would have been days before we got to hear about this evidence otherwise.”

  Katy glanced at her watch. “We’ll gather what we can then shoot off. I want to return to Dilbert’s house, see if we can find him home during the day.”

  “Good idea.”

  Jim held out two sets of plastic gloves for Lorne and Katy, then he laid out a large clear evidence bag on the floor and emptied the contents of the handbag on top of it.

  A small address book caught Lorne’s attention immediately. “Mind if I take a look?”

  Jim handed the hardback book to her, and she leafed through its many entries.

  “Looks like she was a popular girl. It’s a shame we couldn’t get to work on this immediately.” She smiled at Jim in hope, more than expectation, and was greeted with a stern shake of his head.