As The Crow Flies (The DI Nick Dixon Crime Series)

by Boyd, Damien

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘So, what we do is place a fake death notice online and wait for them?’

  ‘That was my first thought but it’s not quite that simple, Steve.’

  ‘It never is.’

  Dixon ignored him.

  ‘I think this gang is too intelligent to fall for that. I certainly wouldn’t. At the very least, I’d check with the Land Registry website to see that the deceased is the registered proprietor of the property.’

  ‘Registered proprietor?’

  ‘Owner, you twat, Dave.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Steve.’ Dixon continued. ‘This means that we’re going to need to use a genuine death notice where the deceased was the owner of the property. Steve, can you liaise with funeral directors in, say, Bridgwater and Wells? We’re looking for a death where the property has been left unoccupied. Ideally, one where the executors are local solicitors and there’s no direct family involved. Ok? Ask that they notify us immediately.’

  ‘I’ll get onto that straightaway.’

  ‘Hopefully, we’ll have time to set up surveillance inside the property and around before the death notice is placed online. Assuming all goes to plan, we should have a visit from the gang within two days.’

  ‘Are you proposing to wait inside the property?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Dave. It could be a long wait. I suggest we look for a friendly neighbour who might let us sit in an upstairs room overlooking the property. We can have a surveillance van nearby and perhaps even the helicopter on standby?’

  Dixon looked towards DCI Lewis who nodded in agreement.

  ‘I’d suggest having an armed response unit on standby just in case.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir. We’ll certainly take you up on that. Any other questions?’

  ‘Have you thought about checking with the Land Registry, Sir, to see if they can tell you who has been searching against the eleven properties burgled so far?’ asked Jane.

  ‘I looked at that. I did ask but the Land Registry tell me that they can’t help us on that one, at least not officially.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  ‘A bit of both probably but I’m not too concerned about that. I’d expect this lot to be too savvy to leave that sort of footprint. They’re probably using web-based email set up via a proxy server and almost certainly a stolen credit card each time to pay the Land Registry fee.’

  ‘Good point, Sir.’

  Dave Harding leaned across to Steve Gorman. ‘What the hell is a proxy server?’

  Dixon ignored it.

  ‘Ok, Dave, can you help Jane with the statements from the funeral directors, please? Again, what we’re looking for is the date when the notice was sent to the newspapers for publication. It may also mean taking statements from the editors or somebody at the newspaper to confirm when the notice was actually placed online. I reckon it’ll prove that the death notice went live on the internet forty-eight hours before each burglary.’

  ‘Are you keeping Devon and Cornwall in the loop, Nick?’ Lewis again.

  ‘Yes, Sir. I’m dropping down to Torquay this afternoon to liaise with the officer investigating down there. They’re already looking into when the death notice was placed in the Herald Express. It’s published every Wednesday and I’m guessing that the death notice went online either Friday or maybe Thursday at the earliest. I’ll let you know.’

  There was a general gathering up of papers.

  ‘Right then, everybody, if we could meet back here at, say, 6.00pm this evening. It will then be a matter of waiting for a call from a funeral director. Be aware that when the call comes, we’ll have to move pretty damn quick.’

  Dixon had only just sat down in his office when DCI Lewis appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Very impressive. Let’s hope we get a result.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘I gather you’ve been asking questions about the climbing accident in Cheddar Gorge last week?’

  ‘Accident?’

  ‘Incident then.’

  ‘It’s my job to ask questions, Sir. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Not as far as I am concerned, no. I’m just wondering why you’re so interested in the case?’

  ‘Jake Fayter was my climbing partner for six years before I joined the Met.’

  ‘What I’m not clear about is why you would think it was anything other than a straightforward accident? The ropes had clearly not been cut so the obvious inference is that the knot came undone?’

  ‘That is not a mistake Jake would have made…’

  Lewis interrupted. ‘Let’s look at it another way then. If the knot at the top had been properly tied there is simply no way that anybody could have undone it with his weight sitting on the ropes, surely?’

  ‘I can think of at least one way straight off the bat.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Using a second anchor and a clamp fixed to the ropes below the knot to take the weight.’

  ‘Possible but unlikely.’

  ‘It is, Sir, but actually it’s far more straightforward than that.’ Dixon leaned back in his chair. ‘Jake was using the ropes to protect himself while he was practising the moves on a new route. He’d been trying it for nearly two years, according to his parents. They told me that he was very nearly at the point when he was ready for the first ascent, which means that he was able to do all of the moves on the climb.’

  ‘Which means that his weight would have been on the rock face for longer?’

  ‘And off the rope, that’s right, Sir. So, assuming Jake was practising one of the easier sequences, his weight could have been off the rope for anything up to 5 minutes, longer even, which is plenty of time for the knot to have been undone at the top.’

  Lewis nodded slowly.

  ‘Not only that but the weight on the end of the rope Jake was using to keep it tight was his small rucksack, which contained just a small bottle of Coke and some clothing.’

  ‘Have you told anybody about this?’

  ‘No, not yet. I’m told that one of the witnesses shot a short section of video footage shortly before the fall and I’m hoping that will show whether Jake was climbing immediately before the fall or whether he was sitting with his weight on the rope. If he was climbing, then his weight would have been off the rope and the knot could have been undone. It’s just something that is niggling me, Sir.’

  ‘I can see that. But an accident still remains the most likely explanation.’

  ‘Very possibly, Sir, but I shall keep asking questions until I am satisfied.’

  ‘You do that, Nick. Just try not to ruffle too many feathers.’

  It had been a long day. Apart from half an hour on Meadfoot beach and a quick tour of the Torquay Police Station car park, Monty had spent the rest of the time in the back of the Land Rover. Dixon felt that this was better than leaving him at home on his own all day, particularly given that his tenancy agreement banned pets.

  He was back in the incident room at Bridgwater Police Station just after 5:30pm. Everyone was there so he suggested that the day’s debriefing start straightaway.

  ‘What news? Jane, you first.’

  ‘I’ve checked with the funeral directors and with the newspapers and, surprise surprise, in each case the death notice went live on the internet between twenty-four and forty-eight hours before the burglary.’

  ‘Well done, Jane. How have you got on, Steve?’

  ‘I’ve been in touch with all the funeral directors in Bridgwater and Wells. I included Burnham-on-Sea for good measure, as well. Got a call back within an hour or two from Carters in Bridgwater with an elderly gentleman in Spaxton who died yesterday, apparently.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  Jane couldn’t stifle a laugh and Dixon realised immediately what he had said. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get too excited, Sir. I spoke to the solicitor dealing with the estate and he won’t cooperate with us. Too worried about getting sued, I expect. It�
�s bloody irritating because the property looks ideal from Google Earth but, instead of playing ball, the jobsworth twat has instructed the funeral directors not to place the death notice at all.’

  ‘Git.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Dave. The news from Torquay is that the burglary took place thirty six hours after the death notice went online so we’re now in a race with Devon to catch these buggers. Let’s spread the net a bit wider. We need to get in touch with funeral directors across the whole county. Steve, can you get onto that first thing in the morning?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Any other developments?’

  Silence.

  ‘Ok, well if not let’s call it a day and meet back here in the morning. Jane, you will have your work cut out taking new statements from the funeral directors and newspapers, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m going to do the funeral directors and Dave will cover the newspapers.’

  ‘Good, well I’ll see you all tomorrow.’

  Dixon arrived home just after 6.30pm. It was too late to take Monty for another walk so he fed him and then opened a can of beer.

  Dixon had always enjoyed a good film. He regarded his favourite films as places to go rather than simply movies to be watched and this evening he fancied a trip to the high seas. He must have seen Master and Commander at least fifteen times. In fact, his collection consisted of no more than twenty films but he had watched all of them many times over. He stretched out on the floor in front of the television with Monty curled up beside him and was asleep before the first cannon shot was fired.

  Three

  Dixon was sitting at his desk waiting for the phone to ring when it rang. It was not the call that he had been expecting.

  ‘PC Cole, Sir.’

  ‘Good morning, constable. I’m assuming you have some news for me?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. I’ve got Fayter’s climbing equipment from the mortuary, or rather his harness and the shunt thing. They’re a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Anything unusual about them?’

  ‘The harness had been cut off him at the mortuary but apart from that I can see no damage or anything unusual about them at all.’

  ‘Hang onto them for the time being will you? What about the phone?’

  ‘I’ve got that too.’

  ‘Where did you find it?’

  ‘I didn’t, Sir. It was dropped in by the father.’

  ‘Where did he find it?’

  ‘In the car.’

  ‘Am I to assume from that that you haven’t checked the car?’

  ‘No, Sir. It was recovered from the scene direct to the parents’ house.’

  ‘Don’t you think it might good idea to check the car then?’

  ‘What do you think I might find, Sir?’

  ‘Well you would have found the phone for starters, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I can check it later on today, if you think it necessary?’

  ‘No, leave it to me. Just make sure that you hang onto the phone until I say so. What is it, by the way?’

  ‘An iPhone, Sir.’

  ‘Any news on the statements from Birmingham?’

  ‘We should have them by the end of the week. I’m expecting the photos from the High Tech Unit later on today or first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t forget to email them straight across to me as soon as you get them, constable.’

  ‘I won’t, Sir.’

  Sarah Heath had readily agreed to a meeting when Dixon had telephoned her first thing in the morning and it was just after 10.30am when he pulled up outside the address in The Grove, Burnham-on-Sea. He had left strict instructions for Steve Gorman to ring him immediately he received a call from a funeral director.

  Dixon guessed that the property was 1930’s. It was adjacent to the Avenue Lawn Tennis Club and had clearly been divided into flats. Jake had shared the garden flat with Sarah and this was accessed by a door at the side of the property.

  Dixon thought that she was in her early thirties. She had short blonde hair and wore jeans and a white T-shirt but otherwise looked as if she had just got out of bed. At her invitation, Dixon followed Sarah through to the lounge, which was at the rear of the flat, overlooking the garden.

  She offered Dixon coffee, which he accepted, and disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on. The kitchen was in a small alcove at the back of the lounge and Dixon could hear Sarah from where he was sitting on the leather sofa. He took a moment to take in the room. There was a large television with a DVD rack next to it. A display of dried flowers told him that the fireplace was not in use. The mantelpiece was covered with photographs and ornaments and an ornate mirror was hanging on the wall above. Otherwise, there was a low three seat sofa that Dixon was sitting on, a glass coffee table with TV and DVD gizmos on it and a small table and chairs against the wall on the opposite side of the room. That would be the dining area.

  Dixon noticed immediately that there was not a single trace of Jake in the room. No photographs of him on the mantelpiece, none of his books anywhere nor any of the action films that he knew Jake enjoyed in the DVD collection.

  They had exchanged the usual pleasantries when Dixon had first arrived but Sarah had not said a word whilst she was making the coffee. Dixon had left her to it. When she reappeared with two mugs of coffee, he took the initiative.

  ‘How long did you know, Jake?’

  ‘We met about two years ago when he was still seeing Ruth. I was working in the Clarence. It all got a bit messy for a time. Then he dumped her and moved in with me.’

  ‘Is this your flat then?’

  ‘Yes, well I rent it. I’ve lived here about four years now, I think.’

  She sat on the floor with her back against the patio window.

  ‘Where are you working now?’

  ‘I’m still at the Clarence.’

  ‘Had Jake moved in full-time or was he just staying here from time to time, only I don’t see any of his stuff around the place?’

  ‘I bagged it all up and dropped it back to his parents yesterday.’

  ‘Why was that, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘I do mind you asking.’ There was suddenly aggression in Sarah’s voice. ‘Are you here in an official capacity?’

  Dixon kicked himself for the insensitive question.

  ‘No, not at all. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Jake.’

  Sarah forced a smile of sorts.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s difficult. He talked about you a lot, you know. The glory days he used to call them.’

  ‘That they were.’

  ‘He told me about his solo ascent of, what was it, Quiet Waters?’

  ‘He told everyone about that. So, you know why I’m here?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what happened. I simply cannot believe that his knot just came undone.’

  Sarah looked as if she was about to start crying.

  ‘Was he working?’ asked Dixon.

  ‘Not really. Odd jobs for cash, you know. He was claiming Jobseekers Allowance as well.’

  ‘What sort of cash in hand jobs was he doing?’

  ‘A bit of gardening here and there, the odd bit of labouring. He worked on the roller coaster at the leisure centre too. Nothing regular.’

  ‘Had he been climbing a lot recently?’

  ‘Not a huge amount. He’d been on several trips to Wales with Dan and one trip to Jordan but he wasn’t climbing as much as he used to.’

  ‘Jordan?’

  ‘Yes, there’s some good climbing out there, apparently. Plenty of new routes to be had, he said.’

  ‘Tell me about Dan.’

  ‘Dan Hunter. His new climbing partner. I didn’t know him that well.’

  ‘Did you ever go climbing?’

  ‘Never. Never saw the point in it.’

  ‘You sound like my mum.’

  Sarah smiled, stood up and turned to look out of the wind
ow. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said. When she turned round to face Dixon, the smile had gone. ‘If you’re saying that Jake’s knot wouldn’t have come undone, are you saying that somebody else undid it? That would be murder, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I’m not saying that, no. I’m just saying that I don’t know what happened and I owe it to him to find out. I can’t rule out foul play, of course. But, equally, I have no evidence to suggest that it was foul play. Does that make sense?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t expect to find anything but I promised Maureen I’d look into it.’

  Sarah opened the patio door and stepped into the garden. Dixon followed.

  ‘Do you know anyone who might have had a grudge against him?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Was he involved in anything he shouldn’t have been, Sarah?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He was driving a Subaru Impreza. And it’s not an old one, as you know. That’s a lot of cash in hand and Jobseeker’s Allowance, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘Look, this isn’t about what Jake was up to. It’s about what happened to him. It’s about seeing if there’s anyone out there who might have a motive to do him harm. Ok?’

  ‘Of course, there’s no one. Don’t be so…’ Her voice tailed off.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s probably nothing.’

  ‘Tell me anyway.’

  ‘The night before he died we were in the Vic. He went outside for a smoke and I could see him arguing with a bloke.’

  ‘Did you ask him what it was about?’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me.’

  ‘Would you recognise the man again?’

  ‘I doubt it. Jake was stood between him and me most of the time.’

  ‘Did you tell PC Cole about this when he spoke to you?’

  ‘He hasn’t spoken to me yet. He’s spoken to John and Maureen but not me.’

  ‘And you’ve got no idea who this man was or what the argument was about?’

  ‘No.’

  It was a short drive from Sarah's flat in The Grove to Jake's parents’ bungalow in Braithwaite Place but Dixon managed to fit in a telephone call to PC Cole. He told him to take a witness statement from Sarah straightaway and, specifically, to get as much information as he could from her about the argument Jake had with an as yet unidentified white male outside the Vic the night before he died. Cole had asked whether he thought the two incidents were connected. Dixon thought that he had been quite restrained in his response, simply reminding Cole that was the purpose of an investigation.