The Singhing Detective

by M. C. Dutton

  Jenny smiled and thanked Sharon and with a pair of tweezers picked up the tiniest of threads caught on the smallest sliver of wood on the back of the chair. It was barely visible to the naked eye. Jenny exhaled, bit her lip and, with a smack of her lips, said “Aha” with deep satisfaction. She dropped it into a plastic bag and sealed it immediately. She caught Jazz’s look of well? and said she wasn’t certain but it could be a relevant piece of wool. The lab would tell them more. She continued to search and dust the chair. She took fingerprints, especially those around the rim of the seat of the chair. If Tony had been here, that is where his fingerprints would most probably be found. Jazz was so glad he had Jenny here. If there was anything to find, however small, she would find it.

  They left her to get on with her job and went upstairs to see where Mad Pete had been kept that night and exactly what he did and who he saw when he left the room in a panic. It wasn’t much help and Jazz came down the stairs as Mad Pete was showing him how he ran into the back room. He stopped and looked at the front room. He wondered who had been in there. It seemed as if Mad Pete could run around and had seen many faces but he wasn’t allowed in the front room and the door was being guarded. It begged the question why?

  Jenny would be in the back room for at least another hour, she was very thorough. He made sure no one entered the front room. He hoped she would find something of interest in there. He looked outside and saw a woman talking to a police officer so he went to see what was being said. Her name was Flora and she lived across the road. She was telling the officer what she saw last night. It was about midnight and she was pretty mad at the noise outside. She told them everyone had cats down the street and she was woken by cats fighting and mewing. She got up to look out of her window onto the street below to see where they were. It was then that she saw three men coming out of the house across the road. She didn’t think much of it other than that she didn’t know who they were. She didn’t have double glazing so she heard the men saying hello to the driver and something about a journey and the slamming of doors. She said the engine revved for a while and then took off. When she had seen all the police arrive earlier, she wondered if it was connected.

  Jazz asked if she would recognise any of the men but she said no because it was dark, though she did say she thought they were all wearing suits. She said she couldn’t see much but it looked like one of the men was being escorted to the car. When asked what that meant, she said they had his arm. It was distracting out in the street and Jazz suggested she came down to the station with him where it would be quieter to make a statement. She was happy to do that. He instructed the officers to knock on all doors and see if anyone else saw anything. Cases were always solved better when memories were still fresh. He thanked Flora for coming forward and sat her in one of the unmarked cars ready to go back to Ilford. If anyone else was spoken to, he told officers to bring them down to Ilford Police Station immediately. Flora was his for the moment.

  He went back inside and asked Jenny to keep in touch with him and she promised to have everything analysed immediately; hopefully by the afternoon she would have some useful information. He went looking for Mad Pete, who was sitting round the back of the house giving himself a shot of heroin. Jazz overlooked what was happening for the moment. He couldn’t have Mad Pete going through DTs and screaming all over the place at such a crucial time.

  He took a spaced out Mad Pete back to Ilford along with Flora, who seemed to find the smell a bit difficult so Jazz opened all the windows of the car. The journey back was interesting. Flora seemed quite an eagle-eyed person, which was fantastic. He was hoping if she saw a picture of Tony she might recognise him. Unfortunately she had watched television in the back room of her house but she slept in the front bedroom upstairs. Therefore she saw nothing all evening and it was only the noise of cats fighting that woke her up and made her look out of her window. He hadn’t forgotten she said they got into a Land Rover; they would look further into that at Ilford Police Station. For the first time today he felt like he was getting a bit of a break; Flora was going to help make his day, he hoped. He felt sick in his stomach and badly wanted a drink. He just couldn’t think of anything else other than where was Tony and was he alright and the unbearable thought that something bad might have happened and ultimately it was all his fault.

  Sharon stayed behind to talk to neighbours and take anyone who saw or heard anything to Ilford Police Station for interviews. She wanted to ensure that no neighbour was overlooked and the right questions were put to them. From experience she knew people often started a conversation with I saw nothing but after careful questioning it could turn out that they saw something significant to the case. It felt dark and hopeless and unimaginable that anything could possibly have happened to Tony. Before the guilt of not watching Tony’s back overtook her, she got on with knocking on doors.

  Jazz found a room for Flora to sit in. He got a young police officer who was just sitting in the canteen minding his own business to babysit Mad Pete. He didn’t want him sidling off anywhere. He was going to get Flora a nice cup of tea and organise pictures for her to look at. He knew he would have to face DCI Radley and he was prepared for that.

  From across the canteen, a booming voice shattered the hum of muted voices. “There you are you fucking bastard. I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Jazz didn’t have to look round, it was Tom Black, DS for the murder squad. Tom was big in every way. Big body, big voice and a big problem if you got on the wrong side of him. He was 6’ 5” of rippling fat. If he hadn’t been so tall he would have needed wheels under his belly to get him around.

  Jazz turned round and smiled. “Hello, Boomer, long time no see.”

  The big man strode with an intention that would have frightened someone who didn’t know him. On reaching Jazz, he grabbed him with a strength that pressed him to the protruding stomach, taking Jazz’s breath away, and then he felt the huge hands affectionately patting his back . Jazz wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out with all the pressure on his chest and back. Just as the stars were appearing in his eyes and he thought he might black out from lack of oxygen, the hold was released by a shaking of his shoulders.

  “It’s good to see you,” Boomer shouted affectionately. This was a rare sight; Boomer didn’t give most people the time of day. He was viewed at best warily and at worst with fear. He was a loose cannon and no one quite knew what he would do next. Some would say that Jazz and Boomer had that in common.

  “How long have you been back you mad fucker?” That wasn’t a question, more a statement. He went on: “Back five minutes and there have been seven murders and we have lost a Police Detective. Bloody hell, that’s some going even for you, you bastard.” Although not entirely serious with these comments, Boomer shook his head in dismay and uttered “I have never known such a fucking, bloody, shitty time in the Met in all the long years I have been here.” He stared long and hard at Jazz. And as if by mutual understanding they both walked to DS Tom Black’s office and closed the door behind them. The big and brash act had fallen to the wayside and Tom sat heavily in his chair and sighed deeply. He looked up and, in a subdued, quiet voice, he asked, “Do you know what this is all about Jazz?”

  Jazz sat hunched on a chair holding his head with both hands. His calm act disappeared and here in private he let the fear and worry that had been suppressed rise to the surface. Boomer and he went back many, many years. They understood each other and Boomer was one of the very few who knew the truth about the incident that happened all those years ago. He would never give out details, the incident was Jazz’s call to handle as he wanted.

  Boomer should have been a country squire. He lived in Dorset and went home and lead a different life. He grew vegetables and fruit. He hunted and fished and had two huge freezers to keep his harvests in. Boomer was a very intelligent man but his view on life was quite simplistic. If it flew, shoot it and if it swam, hook it and eat it. He worked in a similar way in the Met.

  He kn
ew Jazz and when he brushed aside all the splinters of cockiness, drinking and taking chances where prudence would be better, he would rather have Jazz watching his back than many fellow officers he worked with. No other officer would condone that view but to Boomer’s simple view of life, Jazz was just an honest fisherman doing his job. He had no other agenda. If you started Boomer on those who wanted to rise in the ranks quickly in the Met and didn’t mind treading on the heads, faces and hands of colleagues to get there, the shouting and swearing would go on for hours.

  They would work together on this case; they decided between them that nothing would stop them until the murders were solved and Tony was found. Now Jazz had the full force of the murder squad behind him and between them, he and Tom Boomer Black would catch the bastards. They agreed Tony wasn’t dead until they found him dead. They were looking for a living man. Both knew this was unlikely based on what Mad Pete had said and where would they take him anyway and why would they bother? It was looking dire. The question they both kept asking themselves was why would anyone want to kill Tony, a police officer, a raw Detective Constable with no known contacts with the Viets; and above all a man who had done nothing wrong that they knew of? None of it made sense at all. Boomer set about sending his team to look into Tony’s personal life to see if there was anything there that could give clues to his abduction. They both thought this unlikely but had to go through the motions.

  The questions started: Why had he gone to the house in Forest Gate that evening and why would he leave his car? His car was locked up and if he had been hauled out of his car, it was unlikely the thugs responsible would think to lock the car afterwards. They found the wrappings of food he had eaten in the car and they were sent away to forensics to see if they contained any clues. The wrappings had been neatly folded up and placed on the floor of the passenger seat. They could find no disturbance in the car itself to suggest he had been hauled out.

  Jazz said solemnly, “It’s all going to be down to good old fashioned police work.” With that, he asked if he could borrow one of Boomer’s team to make some enquiries. Boomer readily agreed and an officer was called in. Jazz told him to check and find out what mobile Tony had and the number. “I think it is one of those fancy candy assed buggers that does everything,” he told the officer. “If so we could ping it and find out where it is.”

  The officer, a youngish man and keen to help, said, “If it is a GSP signal, Sir, we have a good chance of finding it. I will work on it now and get back to you as soon as I have any information, Sir.” With a nod from Jazz, he went off. There was a police officer missing and everyone would work long and hard to find him.

  Jazz told Boomer that Sharon was looking at the CCTV cameras in the area to see if they could track the Land Rover. “Thank God for CCTV,” he murmured to no one in particular.

  Boomer, lifting the depressed atmosphere, said wryly, “I see it’s old-fashioned policing we are doing.”

  Jazz looked up and realised what he had said and smiled. “OK, old-fashioned policing and new technology. I’m off to interview Flora and see what she can add.” With grim smiles, they both left Boomer’s office to go and gather everything they could to find Tony.

  Jazz found Flora chatting to a policewoman who had got her a cup of tea and biscuits . She looked at ease and comfortable. Hopefully, she would be ready to go over every detail again and please God come up with something they could use. Time was getting on and if there was any chance of finding Tony it would have to be soon. Flora was a good witness. She had spent the time thinking back and trying to remember something significant in that casual glance out of the window last night.

  She told Jazz that all the men had suits on; it appeared that the one in the middle of the other two men was being held by his arms. She said that three men in total got into the Land Rover and there was a driver sitting in the Range Rover so all together there were four men. She wasn’t sure but she thought they might be Asian; she couldn’t explain why she thought that. It was dark outside and she could only see their outlines. Jazz reckoned they were the Vietnamese. She confirmed the time was 12:10 a.m. because she looked at her clock when she woke up. This gave Sharon a more accurate time to look on the CCTVs. She had a job and a half coordinating all the CCTV in the area and getting the bits she wanted to see downloaded. Jazz had no worries about her, she would get it done.

  He rang Sharon to tell her the precise time, according to Flora, that Tony was seen getting into the Land Rover. She told him she had six officers using six different machines going through the CCTV. Everyone was anxious to do their bit to find a fellow officer. Now the time was pinpointed, they could easily spot the Land Rover and that would be the start of a CCTV jigsaw which would piece together the journey Tony was on and hopefully find him. There were lots of CCTV cameras in Forest Gate.

  Meanwhile, Jazz wanted some time with Sharon. She was the last person to speak to Tony before he went off to Forest Gate. They would talk through it over the phone. He didn’t want her to leave the CCTV unit and he wanted to stay close to the station for the time being. He wanted every detail from her now. He called in Boomer to listen over the speaker so he was aware of what exactly happened when Sharon left Tony last night.

  Sharon was prepared for this meeting. She had thought long and hard about what was said and what was going to happen when Tony left. On reflection, she thought he seemed a bit cagey about what he was going to do. She said at the time she didn’t give it a second thought. He was just going to take a look at the outside of the house. She presumed, wrongly, she conceded, that he would get on to Intelligence to find out who lived in the house and if any of them had a police record. It was the correct procedure and she never assumed that Tony would stray away from correct procedure. Sharon was now making excuses for not checking what Tony was doing and Jazz stopped her there.

  “This is not a witch hunt, I’m not looking to blame anyone for what Tony did. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

  Sharon wanted to argue but Jazz was having none of it. She confirmed that Tony went off to take a look at Clinton Road about 7 p.m. She said he had paperwork to tidy up and then he got her a coffee just before he left. He didn’t share any information with her. As far as she was concerned, he was taking a look at the road and house on his way home. She wasn’t aware of any phone calls he made and said he seemed quite relaxed when he left her. Jazz thanked her and told her to get on with sorting out the CCTV.

  Now he had to go and find DCI Radley and make his peace with him. Boomer was continuing with his enquiries regarding the murders. So far it looked like tit for tat. Some Vietnamese, some Chinese. Intelligence said two were from the Triads, three from the Snakeheads and two were Vietnamese. There was going to be a round up of gang leaders in a short while. It would take some organisation to ensure the right people were arrested before they went underground. They would be taken to Dagenham Police Station for questioning. The cells were kept empty for their use later in the day.

  The station was a hive of activity. With all the hustle and bustle, Jazz still noticed the looks he was getting from those standing still long enough to watch him move through the station. He knew that look. It had happened again and although hatred was a strong word to use, to Jazz it felt like he was the most detested person in the country. The thing was, he agreed with them, he felt like he was jinxed and anyone working with him was in serious trouble. He knew he had to get a grip and keep going until Tony was found. He dodged into the gents toilet for a long swig from his hip flask and to splash his face with water to freshen up. He popped a mint in his mouth and made his way to DCI Radley’s office. What could be worse, he thought; he was hated and reviled by his fellow officers, DCI Radley couldn’t do much more to him except, of course, pull him off the case. He couldn’t let that happen. He owed it to Alice and he owed it to Tony to finish this case. It felt like he had worked a whole day already and it was only 12 noon.

  The day, so far, had whizzed by and now it felt like the w
hole Met force was working on this case. Jazz had never seen so many officers in the building, all vying for desk space and brushing past each other as they rushed here, there and everywhere. Everyone seemed to have a purpose and that purpose was to find Tony and do it quickly. For a moment he felt like a lone person in a bubble as he watched everyone around him move; they were on a mission and none of them wanted to acknowledge him as part of it. He knew that feeling and he had to keep a grip on himself. This was not the time to crack; he would address that later. He was part of everything and he would make sure everyone knew that.

  As he passed the door to the custody suite, he saw Bob. The friendly face was good to see. He asked that Bob keep Mad Pete quiet and ready for him when he had finished. Bob just nodded and patted Jazz on the back; he knew what he was going through and said whatever Jazz needed to just ask him. Jazz gave him a grateful smile and carried on to his DCI’s office.

  He knocked quietly on DCI Radley’s office door and waited respectfully for the “Come in” that was shouted crisply from inside. With a deep breath, Jazz opened the door and entered, knowing it was going to be bad.

  The shouting could be heard down the corridor. All knew DCI Radley was having a massive fit. They thought Jazz deserved whatever he got and no one cared what happened to him. It was all happening again and those officers who were not around during the first incident were told in no uncertain terms what had happened before. All reckoned Jazz should just jump off the roof and be done with it. He was a Jonah who no one wanted to be near.