by Ellis, Tim
‘But...’
‘The Chief Constable said that we have to do a day a week educating and training for six months on the Youth Crime Action Plan as punishment.’
‘We? I bet he didn’t say I had to do...’
‘You could always go back to Cheshunt?’
‘As if.’ She laughed and hugged him.
‘Not satisfied with trying to kill yourself, you now want to kill me as well. I’m driving here, Richards.’
‘You’re the best, Sir.’
***
Monday 30th May
‘Morning Mrs Parsons. I do believe you get lovelier every time you grace my shop with your presence.’
‘Harry Shanks, you’re a rogue. You want to get yourself a nice young wife and have lots of children, instead of buttering up old folks like me.’
‘Other women are mere shadows in the brilliant light of your beauty. What’ll it be today then, Mrs Parsons?’
‘The liver and kidney with the bit of heart you gave me last time was very tasty. I’ll have some more of that if...’
‘Unfortunately, I’ve only got the liver and kidney. The heart only comes in on special delivery.’
‘I’ll have a quarter pound of the liver and kidney then, Harry.’
After Mrs Parsons had left the shop, Marty said, ‘Will the new owners keep me on, do you think?’
‘I don’t know, Marty.’
‘So, what ya gonna do?’
‘Well, the first thing I’m gonna do, is find an apprentice that speaks proper English.’
‘Ha, ha. Yeah, good luck with that, Mr S.’
‘I fancy a change, Marty. My heart isn’t in butchering since my old dad died. I think I’d like to try something different.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, first off, I might do a bit of travelling. Go and see what butchering is like in different parts of the world. Do you know that they eat fried cockroaches in Vietnam?’
‘Don’t be disgusting, Mr S.’
‘You need to open your mind, Marty.’
‘Well, good luck, Mr S. I hope you have a wicked time.’
‘Thank you, Marty... I think.’
***
‘Good morning,’ Chief Superintendent Abby Kirby said. ‘I know you’ve been through a difficult time since my friend and colleague Walter Day died. However, the Chief Constable has chosen me to replace him specifically because he knows that I’ll respect what Walter built up, and I know there are some good people here.’
‘You haven’t slept with her have you, Kowalski?’ Parish whispered.
‘The face doesn’t ring any bells, but then there’ve been so many.’
‘Yeah, good one, Ray.’
‘Am I back with you, Sir?’ Richards said.
‘You won’t be if you keep talking while she’s talking.’
‘Huh!’
After the new Chief had introduced herself and told everyone she’d walk round the station during the day and meet people, she approached Parish and took him by the elbow. ‘My office, Inspector.’
He followed her along the corridor. In her high heels, she was a couple of inches shorter than his six foot one. Her hair was finger length, blonde with grey highlights, or the other way round. Anyway, he thought it suited her. He was also pleased that she was thin, probably a bit too thin if he was being honest, but certainly a big improvement on fatty Marshall. There were crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, and laughter lines round her mouth. He decided that he liked her, but it all depended on what she said to him in the next five minutes.
‘Take a seat, Inspector Parish.’
Certainly a good start, he thought. Not only that, but she’d transformed fatty Marshall’s office back into Walter Day’s office. The carpet and paint were still new, but they’d needed replacing anyway. There was a new pane of glass in the door, and all the furniture had been put back into its familiar places – he felt at home again.
‘Coffee?’
‘Please.’ Yes, he decided that she was as warm as the coffee.
‘And don’t put four sugars in it when I’m watching.’
‘Okay, Chief.’
‘The Chief Constable has told me all about you and Constable Richards.’
He smiled like a used car salesman. ‘All good I hope?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think you like me already.’
She put the coffee down in front of him.
‘Thank you.’ He put two sugars in the cup, and then when she turned to get her own coffee, he slipped another two in.
She sat down opposite him and smiled. ‘Here’s how it’s going to go, Inspector Parish. I’ll return everything to normal – if normal is the right word to use around you – but you have to promise not to make me look like an idiot before I retire.’
He took a swallow of his coffee. ‘I think I can promise that, Chief.’
‘Good, then I think we can work together.’
***
‘What did she say, Sir?’
‘She said you can work with me again.’
Richards jumped up and hugged him. ‘How great is that?’
‘But... there were a number of conditions.’
‘Oh?’
‘She said you have to go to counselling without fail...’
‘Okay.’
‘That you have to help me with the YCAP education and training initiative...’
‘Okay.’
‘That you have to stop annoying me, believe everything I say, and make me a coffee any time I ask.’
Richards laughed. ‘I bet she didn’t even mention me.’
‘She did so, Richards. She wanted to know why – when I could have my pick of wonderful partners – I worked with someone who was a pain in the arse and disobeyed orders at the drop of a hat.’
‘And what did you tell her?’
‘I told her that you were my kind of pain in the arse, Richards.’
‘I love you as well, Sir.’
‘I know you do. Right, coffee first, and then we’ll get down to some serious work.’
***
His absence from the station meant that his in-tray, email inbox and mailbox were overflowing. Eventually, he got to his emails and as he went down the list he found an email ‘From a Friend’, which made his heart skip a beat:
Hi!
Before Sir Charles Lathbury (Peter Tremain) killed himself, he gave me a clue to your parents: frati neri.
I know it’s not much. Sorry I couldn’t get more. Hope it helps.
Good Luck and Goodbye
A Friend
He decided that the ‘friend’ could only be Alex Knight, and wondered, briefly, how she was doing. What in hell’s name did ‘frati neri’ mean? He had come to terms over the weekend with never knowing – now this. He wrote the words on a slip of paper and put it in his wallet.
‘What’s that, Sir?’
‘How can you possibly see round two computers and piles of files what I’m doing?’
‘Special training.’
‘Well, mind your own business.’
‘You know I’ll find out.’
‘I know, but until that time comes, let’s stretch our legs and walk to the canteen. I had a premonition last night.’
‘Oh?’
‘I saw a chocolate muffin in the canteen with my name on it.’
Richards laughed as they walked up the corridor. ‘As if.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aftermath
The explosion destroyed the basement monitoring room and any other evidence relating to what had taken place underneath Harold Wood Hospital. It was two weeks before fire officers considered it safe enough to venture down there, and another month before the debris had been cleared away to enable an investigation to take place. No bodies were found, but as the investigating fire officer said, ‘It was such a large explosion that if anyone had been caught in the blast it would have disintegrated flesh and bone.’ As such, he couldn’t s
ay for certain that there were no bodies embedded in amongst the debris.
In view of the sensitivity of the case between the Murder Investigation Teams at Hertford and Hoddesdon, it was decided not to publicise the pictures Rachel Linklater had created of the suspect. Also, because there had been no more women abducted, it was hoped that the killers had died in the explosion at Harold Wood Hospital.
***
Louise Trenchard discovered that she was pregnant, and even though her parents and all her friends advised against it, she decided to give birth to the baby and put it up for adoption.
***
The slightly pregnant Angela Richards and the nervous wreck that used to be the calm Jed Parish were married on Saturday 25th June. Chief Constable James Miller-Gifford gave Angie away, Ray Kowalski acted as Best Man, and Mary Richards was the Maid of Honour. Parish didn’t understand why they had to have a load of screaming kids involved in the wedding, but Kowalski and Ed’s kids were dressed up like Christmas tree angels and played some part.
In his speech, once he’d thanked everyone for joining them on their special day, he toasted absent friends, making specific mention of Walter Day and Doc Michelin.
During the celebrations, he took Toadstone to one side. ‘Have you still got that ‘for disposal’ card that came off the bin bags?’
‘I’ve been told not to speak to you, Sir.’
‘I’m sure that’s not the case.’
‘The new Deputy Chief Constable left me in no doubt what would happen to my private parts if I got involved in one of your schemes again.’
‘Yes, but he didn’t say don’t talk to me, and anyway it was your idea right from the start.’
‘I doubt that, Sir. I’m a forensic scientist, we don’t have ideas.’
‘I can see I’m going to have to watch you, Toadstone. So, you put all the blame on me?’
‘Of course. We can’t have a hero of the realm facing disciplinary charges.’
‘No, I suppose not. So, what have you done with the piece of card?’
‘It’s in a safe place.’
‘I’d destroy it if I were you.’
‘I couldn’t possibly, but don’t worry, nobody will ever find it.’
‘Good, it wouldn’t do for someone to find out we deliberately withheld information from a senior officer during an active investigation.’
‘They won’t find out from me. Is that it, Sir? I don’t want any senior officers to see me talking to you in the shadows; they might think we’re plotting something.’
Parish laughed. ‘You’re a piece of work, Toadstone.’
‘Thank you, Sir. Have a great honeymoon.’
***
Angkor, Cambodia
‘You’re a genius, Harry,’ Adrian said.
They had visited Angkor Wat earlier, not that they hadn’t seen it before a dozen times, because they had, but the one thing that King Suryavarman II’s temple had in abundance was tourists – young female tourists especially. In fact, one of those tourists – a twenty-five year old American woman by the name of Lia Fairchild – lay naked and strapped to the mortuary table he’d acquired from a strange Cambodian dealer with a hair lip and a glass eye.
She opened her mouth to scream.
‘You can scream as much as you want to because no one will hear you, but you should know that noise makes me angry, and when I get angry I will want to hurt you.’
She closed her mouth.
He ran his hands over her flat stomach, squeezed her breasts and then bent down and kissed her lips. ‘That’s a good girl. I think we’re going to have a beautiful relationship.’ He began to chant:
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil...
Adrian walked to the other room and switched on the monitor. He sat in the executive leather chair and took out his bishop, which was nearly as hard as it could be. ‘Yes, do her good, Harry,’ he said. ‘Do her good.’
####
Thank you for choosing and reading my book. If you enjoyed it, I would be grateful if you could write a review and post it on Amazon.co.uk and/or Amazon.com.
Bonus Interlude
Ragdale Hall Health Hydro & Thermal Spa
18th – 19th June
They arrived late on the Friday night in a two-car convoy. Parish and Angie led the way. Catherine and Richards, who had become firm friends, brought up the rear in Catherine’s two-year old VW Beetle.
After Richards and Catherine had carried out the research and discussed it with Angie, she had booked places for her and Jed on the same weekend. Even though she was getting married the following Saturday and then going on an exotic two-week honeymoon with the man of her dreams. She told Parish that the pregnancy was making her feel fat and ugly, and that she needed a pick-me-up. Parish didn’t really want to go to a health spa with three females – it sounded a bit ‘girlie’, and he hoped Kowalski never found out.
At breakfast the following morning, Richards and Catherine were talking about visiting a club that night after a day of beauty treatments. Parish would have liked bacon, sausages, eggs, fried bread, baked beans, tomatoes, and bubble n’ squeak with a pot of coffee to swill it all down; instead he was forced to eat two minuscule triangles of brown bread with wisps of salmon on top.
‘Is that it?’ he said.
The women gave him a knowing look.
‘I’m sure partying until you can’t stand up isn’t part of the health spa experience.’
‘We’ll be in bed early,’ Catherine said. She and Richards giggled.
‘You’re not to have sex with a man, Richards,’ he said.
‘Sirrr,’ she said, looking round embarrassed. ‘Not so loud.’
‘You can have a drink with a man, kiss and cuddle, even a bit of groping and fondling, but you’re not to have sex with anyone until I’ve vetted him.’
‘But...’
‘No buts. You’ve shown on numerous occasions that you’re absolutely useless at choosing men.’
‘You can’t...’
‘Oh yes I can. If I’m going to adopt you, then I want a happy daughter, not someone who’s been damaged by a slimy toe rag. Do you trust my judgement?’
‘Well yes, but...’
‘Did I, or did I not know Murcer was a bad onion right from the start?’
‘Yes, but...’
‘And how many other disastrous relationships have you been in?’
She hesitated. ‘Three.’
‘How do I know that’s a bare-faced lie, Richards?’
‘Seven, but...’
‘That’s more like it. So, the night’s going well. You’re throwing the Bahamas Mama’s back like tomorrow is never gonna come. You’re boogying, getting on down. He’s whispering sweet nothings in your lughole. Your sweat is mingling together as if destiny had ordained it, and he says, “Come back to my place; let’s consummate our love.” And you say?’
Both Richards and Catherine were curled up with laughter. ‘My side hurts,’ Richards said.
‘No, if you say that he’ll get confused.’
‘I say, “No”.’
‘And he says, “Don’t break my heart, beautiful Mary.” And you say?’
‘Not tonight. If you’re really serious about me, come to the hotel tomorrow morning. You don’t get to sleep with me until the man that’s shacked up with my mum has vetted you.’
‘There you go, that wasn’t too difficult was it?’
‘You know he’ll wear me down. The drink will have reduced my defences to puddles; I’ll be at his mercy.’
‘You’re a policewoman, Richards, not a victim. Do you want to be seen as a victim, someone who has no control over their own life?’
‘Do you see me like that?’
‘Do you see yourself like that?’
‘Do you see me like that, Catherine?’
‘Do you see me like that? We were both victims not long ago.’
‘I’ve been a victim twice,’ Ri
chards said.
‘Talking of which, your decisions have been a bit iffy lately, and Catherine following you back to Harold Wood Hospital puts her decision-making into question as well. So that’s the deal. Angie, do you agree?’
‘I’m afraid so, dear. It’s for your own good.’
‘You both hate me, don’t you? You never want me to find a man. You want me to be a lonely old woman...’
‘We want you to find the right man, dear. You’ll thank us one day.’
Throughout the day, he went from one treatment to another like an experimental subject in a laboratory. Apparently, each guinea pig had their own itinerary, which they constructed from a menu of treatments. Angie chose to go on the ‘Mum’s-To-Be’ programme.
‘So, what am I going to do while you’re getting the paraffin wax hand and foot treatment, the immaculate manicure, the luxury pristine pedicure, the body balancing, the avocado and lemon reviver and the mother-to-be skin conditioner?’
‘Choose something. There look, they’ve got a men’s zone.’
He had no idea what he was doing, but it took him half an hour to do it. He chose the hair cut – well he definitely needed one for the wedding; the dry floatation therapy, which he imagined must be something similar to hovering like a humming bird; the hand maintenance; the foot therapy, and the lava shell back treatment. After lunch, which he assumed would probably be a piece of rice on a cocktail stick, he had opted for the equilibrium massage, the head massage and the age-defying facial to finish off. By the end of the day, he expected to look and feel like a twenty-one year old, and would probably go clubbing with Richards and Catherine.
