by David Menon
After her divorce Abigail added the money she got from the sale of the marital home to some money she’d inherited from her Grandfather and invested it in a pub in the then up and coming district of Castlefield just off Manchester city centre. She’d built it up into a thriving business that was a number one venue for up and coming rock bands as well as tribute acts to bands who were more famous. It was a thriving business and she loved running it. She’d never been an all lace and frills kind of girl and she liked to dress up in all the leathers that seemed to go with the atmosphere of the place. She made a fortune on food at the bar too, catering for both the lunch and dinner crowds. She and her son Harvey lived in the flat upstairs and she reckoned she wasn’t doing a bad job as a single Mum. Harvey seemed as okay as any fourteen year- old with parents who didn’t live together could do. At least he knew who his father was which made him luckier than some of the kids at school who lived in single Mum households without any contact with their fathers at all or any idea as to who he might be. She’d told him early on that the man called Ben who called round on a regular basis was his father but that he couldn’t live with them for all kinds of reasons. He’d accepted it then although he was more pissed off about it now. Being a teenager in transition from smelly kid to someone who wants to make their mark on the world could be difficult, but still he didn’t give her any actual bother about anything much. Just the odd snide comment about being the second class son to Ben’s other son Joshua who was his first born with Kaitlin. Abigail always dismissed such comments from him although it did hurt her inside because it may actually be true. Perhaps it was inevitable given the circumstances.
‘So what was your excuse for getting a pass out tonight?’ asked Abigail. They were in bed and consumed with a wonderful post-coital feeling.
‘I didn’t have to use one’ said Ben. ‘Kaitlin took Josh with her parents to some family gathering and although I was invited it was also suggested that her parents didn’t want me there. Then she told me they were staying overnight and I saw my chance to wake up and look at you and wish it could be this way every morning’.
‘I’m sorry’.
‘Don’t be. There’s no need. It’s just how the cards have fallen’.
‘It’s how I made them fall when I said I didn’t want to settle down with you’.
‘Except you have settled down with me’ said Ben who knew that Abigail didn’t have relationships with any other men. ‘Kaitlin loves to refer to herself as Princess Diana and you as Camilla who’s made her marriage pretty crowded’.
‘I’ll bet she does’ said Abigail, smiling at the thought of little Miss Barbie doll making a meal out of her husband being in love with another woman and an older woman at that. She must be loving all the drama of it. ‘I know it can’t be easy for her though’.
‘I know’ said Ben. ‘But to be honest I’ve got other things on my mind like this bloody circuit that I’ve fallen foul of’.
‘You know Ben you really do need to be careful of those boys in the circuit’ Abigail warned. ‘I’ll keep my ears open. You’d be surprised what you accidentally overhear in my job’.
‘Hey, now don’t be putting yourself or Harvey at any risk, Abigail. Promise me?’
‘I can take care of myself’ said Abigail. ‘But that doesn’t stop me helping to protect you’.
‘Seriously, the only ones I want you to think about are yourself and Harvey’ said Ben who, come to think of it, wanted an answer to a more mundane question about their son. ‘So tell me about this sleepover at Ethan’s house that Harvey has been on tonight? Was it pre-arranged or did it suddenly appear in his diary when he knew I was coming?’
‘You’re paranoid’.
‘Does he still hate his old Dad?’
‘Harvey doesn’t hate you, Ben’ said Abigail. ‘I really don’t want you to think that’.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it isn’t true’ Abigail insisted. ‘He’s just a teenager and he blames you for not trying harder with me after he’d known that I was the one who said no to us getting together. He’d have liked to have been part of a normal family’.
‘So I get the blame for something you decided and gave me no choice over’ said Ben. ‘Charming’.
‘That’s a bit harsh’.
‘Are you saying it isn’t true?’
Abigail had to concede that one. ‘No’.
‘Anyway, I get that kind of blame stuff thrown at me every bloody day at home’.
‘Well there is something that you don’t get at home as good as you get it here’ said Abigail as she
twisted some of the hairs on his chest with her fingers. ‘You’ve admitted it on many occasions’.
‘Yes well anymore of that will have to wait because I’ve got to go and meet my new team and my new boss’.
‘Nervous?’
‘A little’ Ben admitted. ‘Anyway, I hear my new boss DSI Barton is also on the wrong side of the circuit and Chief Constable Hermitage in particular after he’d been found out to have been sleeping with Hermitage’s wife’.
Abigail laughed. ‘My God! What are you boys like?’
‘We’re as bad as you girls make us’.
Barton gathered together his newly enlarged team for their first briefing session. After the official introductions of DS Masters and DC Ng he got straight down to business.
‘So, Karina Kowalewski’ Barton began. ‘Twenty-one years old from Gdansk in Poland. Shared a flat with two other Polish nationals in the Northern Quarter of the city. DS Masters? I’m going to turn to you to tell us what you know because you were the original investigating officer on this case, weren’t you’.
‘I certainly was, sir’ answered Masters. ‘We centred our work on a suspect called Scott Delaney because he’d admitted to having had sexual relations with Miss Kowalewski on the night that she did after having picked her up in a city centre bar. She worked on the catering staff at Stepping Hill hospital serving meals and refreshments to all the patients on some of the wards there. By all accounts she was popular with both staff and patients alike, very hard working, didn’t need to be asked or told what to do. She would show initiative and enthusiasm for what she had to do. Her colleagues were distraught at what happened to her’.
‘None of them came up as potential suspects?’ asked DCI Ollie Wright.
‘No sir’ Masters answered. ‘Everything about them checked out. As you can see from the picture she was a very attractive young woman but she didn’t have a regular boyfriend which surprised me’.
‘She might just have been very choosy about who she had relationships with?’ suggested Wright.
‘Maybe, sir, I don’t know, but on that fateful night she decided to have sex with Scott Delaney in the back of his car’.
‘It might not have been consensual?’ ventured DC Ng.
‘Well there were no marks on her body that would’ve been consistent with her having been forced into a sexual act’ said Masters.
‘How did we know that she’d been with Scott Delaney specifically?’ asked DS Adrian Bradshaw.
‘He came forward and volunteered the information’ said Masters. ‘He said that he’d gone out for early evening drinks straight after work and that he’d gone home around eight. They were both seen by CCTV cameras in the business car park on Whitworth street going into the car park and then Miss Kowalewski is seen leaving on foot, alone, and heading back in the direction of the bar she’d been in where she’d met Delaney who moments later is seen driving out of the car park, also alone. Delaney thought that his information might help us find her killer’.
‘But I take it that you’re firmly of the belief that Delaney is innocent of Miss Kowalewski’s murder, Ben?’ asked Barton.
‘Yes I believe he is, sir’.
‘And why do you believe that?’
‘Call it copper’s instinct, call it what you like, but sir, Delaney just didn’t come across to me as a killer. The very fact that he came forward and volunteered
that he’d had sexual relations with Miss Kowalewski on the night in question and his general demeanour during questioning made me firmly of the belief that he had nothing to hide’.
‘But what do we know about Delaney?’ asked Bradshaw.
‘Well this is where it gets a little interesting’ Masters began. ‘Delaney has been in a relationship for the last three years and is indeed engaged to a young woman called Stacey Donaldson who is the daughter of Mark Donaldson who as we all probably know was one of Manchester’s most prominent prosecution lawyers’.
And with alleged links to the circuit, thought Barton. Well, well, well.
‘But it seems that Miss Donaldson’s parents don’t want her to marry Scott Delaney because they don’t think he’s good enough for their daughter. And I came under intense pressure to charge Delaney which I resisted because, like I said I just don’t believe he’s the killer and there is absolutely no evidence to say that he is’.
Chief Constable Ronald Hermitage breezed through the squad room on his way to Barton’s office in his usual way of acting like some Roman commander who’d like to send the people he didn’t like to the lions. And that would begin with Barton. Everyone sitting at their desks looked up and then looked away again. None of them wanted to make eye contact with their ultimate boss.
‘Barton!’ Hermitage commanded as he went into Barton’s office and slammed the door shut behind him.
‘And good morning to you too, sir’ said Barton who had no time for the fat useless prick and had been wondering what the best way would be to deal with him. He’d decided to be as contemptuous as he could get away with and more. As he sat there looking at Hermitage he was reminded of when Lena told him that having sex with her husband felt like she had a wardrobe on top of her with the key still in the lock. The poor bitch. She deserves a medal.
‘Well aren’t you going to stand up?’
‘Oh I think we’re past the whole respect thing, don’t you sir?’
‘Is that what you thought when you were fucking my wife?’
‘Is that what you were thinking when you invaded my private space at home in front of my son and my sister?’
‘Just remember who you’re talking to, Barton’.
‘And you remember who you’re talking to, Hermitage! Can I remind you that I’ve got the biggest clean up record of any DSI in this force?’.
‘Nobody is indispensable, Barton’ Hermitage sneered. ‘Don’t make the mistake of believing that when you need to reassure yourself’.
‘And don’t you make the mistake of believing that I will allow you to do any damage to my career. Sir. I will respect you in front of other officers but when we’re on our own it will be a different matter’.
‘Now listen, Barton, and listen bloody good because I don’t make a habit of repeating myself. I am not going to let you sit in this station like some unexploded bomb. And I’ll come down on you like a ton of bloody bricks if you so much as put one foot wrong. Do you understand?’
‘Is that a threat, sir?’
‘No it’s a promise. And I don’t know about you but I keep mine’.
‘Well then enlighten me with your version of the truth or are we adopting the Trump principle of making up alternative facts?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well I should be the one promising you since I know of your involvement with the circuit’.
‘Watch it Barton’.
‘Oh I think you should watch it too, sir’.
‘You’re on my radar screen Barton and I intend to deal with you once and for all’.
‘Oh I won’t forget, sir’ said Barton.
‘And I’m hoping that won’t be the end of it’.
‘So I assume that DS Masters has been placed here in my team so that you can keep at least two of your enemies in one place?’
‘You’re sometimes too clever for your own good, Barton’.
‘Thought so’ said Barton. ‘Now Masters wouldn’t take money from you to send an innocent man to prison and I presume you were trying to send down Scott Delaney on behalf of Mark Donaldson who I also assume is some kind of comrade of yours’.
‘Oh you’re so moral except when it comes to getting inside the knickers of another man’s wife’ said Hermitage. ‘Well let me remind you DSI Barton that the case of the murder of the Polish hospital catering worker is still unsolved thanks to the refusal of DS Masters to charge Scott Delaney’.
‘An innocent man’.
‘You really don’t realise what you’re up against here, do you? You really don’t know how high this goes?’
‘Oh I can make a few educated guesses, sir’ said Barton. ‘So why don’t you leave me to get on with the job of being an honest police officer and you do what you like. Then we’ll see who survives in the crime fighting universe’.
Helen Donaldson always took her red spaniel dog Fritz for a walk in the park every morning after she and her husband Mark had finished breakfast. Since he’d retired from his lifelong career as a prosecution lawyer they’d done everything they hadn’t intended to do.
Helen didn’t mind so much. She adored Fritz although on a morning like this when it had started to spit with rain she wished he didn’t make it clear that he was intent on staying out as long as possible. But then again she thought that the brisk walk would give her plenty of the fresh air that she no doubt needed. She wasn’t getting any younger after all.
She breathed in the fresh air and smiled. She loved living here in the small town of Marple on the edge of the Peak District and she loved the sound of the stream that cut right through the middle of the park where she came every morning with Fritz. She looked up and wondered what it was that Fritz was so taken by on a rock that was just above the bank of the stream. He started barking and clearly wanted her to come and see for herself what he’d found. She was immediately fearful because a few days ago it had been reported that a large python called ‘Arthur’ had escaped from its owner who lived nearby. It made Helen wonder why on earth anyone would want to keep a snake as a pet. You couldn’t exactly throw a ball and watch it chase after it and bring it back to you. It wouldn’t ever show you any affection. And if it leapt up and started licking your face when you came home then you’d be in big trouble. So what was the point?
She didn’t want Fritz to be in any danger. The stupid mutt would probably think the snake was something to play with if he had found it, but something about the way he seemed to be getting quite anxious made her think that perhaps it wasn’t something else entirely he’d found.
When she got to the bank of the stream and looked down she screamed at what she saw. It was the naked body of a young girl with black burn marks all over her. Then she took a closer look and squealed out with pain that came from deep down inside her soul as she recognised her.
It was her daughter Stacey.
FOUR
DCI Ollie Wright was driving himself and DSI Barton out to the latest crime scene which would take them the best part of an hour. The traffic along the A6 between Manchester and Stockport was at its usual high level and progress at times was painfully slow. They were on their way to the far end of their jurisdiction as the Greater Manchester force and Wright took the opportunity to broach a particular subject with his boss.
‘Sir?’ Wright began. ‘The team have some concerns’.
‘Oh?’ Barton responded although he wasn’t entirely surprised at Wright’s approach. In fact he’d been expecting it. ‘And are you going to tell me what about, Ollie?’
‘The long and short of it is, sir, that they don’t want their careers to get caught up in some kind of fight between you and Chief Constable Hermitage. They know about your affair with his wife and believe me, nobody is judging you about that’.
‘But?’
‘They’re afraid that their jobs might be at risk at worst or their careers might be stalled and hindered at best because of the poisonous nature of your relationship with the Chief Constable’.
‘And you were elected to see what you could find out?’
Wright cleared his throat. ‘Something like that, sir, yes’.
‘Well don’t worry I understand, Ollie’ said Barton. ‘And I understand why people might be anxious for the reasons you’ve stated. But look, can I ask you to trust me on this?’
‘That goes without saying, sir. And I speak for the whole team when I say that’.
‘Thanks Ollie’ said Barton who was feeling more than a little uncomfortable about the very idea of the team having their backs to the wall because of his shenanigans. But his conflict with the chief constable was his and his alone. There would be no reason why it should impact on the rest of the team and he’d be the first to move in with his intellectual tanks if it did. But he was certain that nothing like that would ever happen. He’d get to the circuit before the circuit got to him or any of his team. And if they did then he’d cut their fucking hands off. ‘But I need to ask everyone to trust me on this’.
‘And they will, sir, out of their loyalty to you’.
‘And I won’t’ said Barton who nevertheless didn’t know what else he could say that wouldn’t compromise the behind-the-scenes moves to expose and destroy what’s left of the circuit as he’d agreed with Superintendent Chambers. Knives were being sharpened to get Hermitage but Barton couldn’t let that out. ‘They don’t need to worry, Ollie. I just can’t say anymore than that just now’.
‘Well I think that will be enough for everyone, sir’ said Wright. ‘And my absolute loyalty to you goes without saying’.
‘Thanks Ollie. I appreciate that’.
When they finally got to the crime scene on the edge of the town of Marple at the very top end of the Peak district it meant walking across a lot of parkland that had been rendered wet and sodden by the rain that showed no sign of letting up.
Standing there waiting for them was an old friend from Barton’s past, the pathologist Dr. Rashid Ahmed. The two men greeted each other with a bear hug.
‘How are you, Jeff?’
‘Well I shouldn’t complain really, Rashid’.
