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

by Boyd, Damien

  ‘Let’s go back to Jake’s drug dealing,’ said Jane.

  ‘For fuck’s sake we’ve been through that already.’

  ‘We’ll go through it one more time if we may. Which nightclubs did Jake frequent in Bridgwater?’

  ‘Rococo’s and the Paradise. They’re the only two. I’ve already told you.’

  Dixon could see that Sarah was becoming angry. He leaned across the table and spoke slowly and quietly.

  ‘When did you find out that Jake killed your sister?’

  Sarah sat back in her chair. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She looked up at the ceiling and then back to Dixon. She opened her mouth to speak but instead began sobbing. Dixon waited.

  ‘I…’ the words were lost in tears.

  ‘I believe what you’ve told me so far, so please don’t lie to me now.’

  Sarah fixed Dixon in the gaze of her bloodshot eyes.

  ‘I thought it a bit odd that you bagged up his belongings and dumped them at his parents’ house so soon after he died,’ said Dixon.

  Sarah sat up in her chair and wiped away the tears with the palms of her hands.

  ‘I found out the day after he died.’

  ‘On the Saturday?’ Dixon continued the questioning.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’

  ‘Because I knew what you’d think. You’d think I killed him.’

  ‘I don’t, as it happens, but then I’ve been wrong before.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him.’

  ‘I need to know how you found out about Jenna.’

  ‘I was working Friday night as usual and Jake wasn’t in when I got home about midnight. I thought he was probably out in either Bridgwater or Weston so I went to bed.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He still wasn’t back when I woke up in the morning so I tried his mobile and got no reply. Then his father rang me. I was in a bit of a state so I told work I wouldn’t be in and went to see my mum.’

  ‘Ok, so that’s how you found out about Jake’s death. How did you find out he supplied the drugs to Jenna?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you’ll think they killed Jake.’

  ‘So this person knew before Jake died that he supplied the drugs to Jenna?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘I think we need to have a word with your mother then, don’t we?’

  ‘She didn’t kill him.’ Sarah was now sobbing uncontrollably.

  ‘Who told her?’

  ‘I don’t know, a policeman, I think.’

  ‘And she knew before Jake died that he was suspected of supplying the drugs that killed her youngest daughter. Is that right, Sarah?’

  ‘Yes, but she didn’t kill him.’

  ‘Where will we find your mum?’

  ‘I don’t know, she’s probably still at work.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘The sorting office in Burnham-on-Sea. She’s the manager.’

  Steve Gorman was sitting on the seafront with Mark Pearce enjoying an ice cream when his phone rang.

  ‘Steve Gorman.’

  ‘Steve, it’s Nick Dixon.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’ Gorman turned to Pearce and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Have you found Hunter?’

  ‘No, Sir. He’s not at work or at home. We’re just waiting for a work colleague to get back so we can have a word with him.’

  ‘What about neighbours?’

  ‘A Mrs Morton at number 16 Wells Close says that she saw him getting his fishing tackle ready on Saturday afternoon but she’s not seen him since. The assistant manager at the sorting office says that he didn’t turn up for work this morning either.’

  ‘Sorting office?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. Hunter is a postman.’

  ‘Did you see the manager?’

  ‘No, she’s not in today. We saw the assistant manager, Linda Dickinson.’

  ‘The manager, Steve, is Tina Williams. Jenna Williams’ mother.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘How much longer is this work colleague likely to be?’

  ‘I’m expecting a call any moment now.’

  ‘Ok, get a statement from him. Ask him if he knows where Hunter might have gone fishing and, if not, what type of fishing he did.’

  ‘Type of fishing?’

  ‘Yes, that will tell us where he might have gone. Then I need you to get over to 17 Bason Bridge Lane, East Huntspill, and pick up Tina Williams.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘According to her daughter, she knew that Jake had supplied the drugs to Jenna but, at the moment, she is just helping us with our enquiries. Right?’

  ‘Yes, Sir, we’ll be as quick as we can.’

  Dixon stood in front of the whiteboard with DCI Lewis, having spotted him coming a fraction too late to make good his escape.

  ‘Any developments, Nick?’

  ‘I’ve interviewed Sarah Heath who says that she found out after Jake died that he had supplied the drugs to her sister.’

  ‘Why didn’t she mention it before?’

  ‘So we didn’t think that she killed Jake apparently but the reality is that she was probably protecting the person who told her.’

  ‘And who was that?’

  ‘Her mother.’

  ‘Her mother?’

  ‘Yes. Imagine knowing that your eldest daughter’s boyfriend supplied the drugs that killed your youngest daughter.’

  ‘Motive enough murder, surely?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Dan Hunter has gone missing, or at least Steve Gorman can’t find him.’

  ‘Gorman couldn’t find his own backside with both hands.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for that, Sir. The interesting point, though, is that Hunter is a postman based at the sorting office in Burnham-on-Sea where Tina Williams, Jenna Williams’ mother, is the manager.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘The obvious conclusion is that Tina Williams killed Jake and possibly also Dan Hunter to shut him up,’ said Dixon. ‘But it’s just too obvious.’

  ‘Or Hunter killed Jake at Tina’s bidding?’

  ‘Both are possible, Sir, but I still think we’re barking up the wrong tree.’

  ‘What are you doing about it?’

  ‘I’ve got Jake’s girlfriend, Sarah, in the cells. Gorman has picked up Tina Williams and should be here in about twenty minutes, I’m told.’

  ‘Good. Let me know how you get on.’

  The interview with Tina Williams began just after 4.00pm. She had been cautioned on arrival at Bridgwater Police Station and had exercised her right to legal representation. This had resulted in a delay of nearly an hour while they waited for a police station accredited solicitor. Dixon used the opportunity to take Monty for a walk. He had always regarded the accreditation process for solicitors to be something of nonsense because most of them were clerks without a qualification to their name. Having said that, he hoped that the possibility of a murder charge might bring out someone who knew what they were doing.

  Tina Williams was in her mid fifties with short dark hair and greying roots. She was wearing jeans and a knitted pullover. After the usual introductions for the tape and a reminder that she was still under caution, Dixon began.

  ‘We are investigating the murder of Jake Fayter, Tina. Sarah’s boyfriend.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How well did you know Jake?’

  ‘Not that well. He’d only been going out with Sarah for about a year.’

  ‘How often did you see him?’

  ‘Not that often. He was always away climbing or, at least, that was what Sarah told me.’

  ‘Did you like him?’

  ‘He was nice enough but I didn’t like what he was doing.’

  ‘Dealing drugs?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You knew he was dealing drugs?’

 
‘Yes. Sarah told me.’

  ‘Why would she tell you that? It’s hardly the sort of thing that you’d admit to your mother, that your boyfriend is a drug dealer, is it?’

  ‘I couldn’t understand where he got his money from but I eventually got it out of her. I begged her to leave him but she wouldn’t.’

  ‘When did you find out that it was Jake who’d supplied the drugs to Jenna?’

  Tina looked across at her solicitor who smiled reassuringly and nodded. She began to cry.

  ‘I really don’t want to upset you unnecessarily, Tina, but it’s important that we understand when you found out that Jake may have supplied the drugs to your daughter. We’re investigating a murder and I’m sure you would agree that it gives you a powerful motive for wanting Jake dead.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him.’

  ‘When did you find out about Jake?’

  ‘About a week after Jenna died. It was before her funeral. He came to it, the little shit, crying buckets. How I didn’t kill him then I’ll never know.’

  Dixon glanced across at Jane Winter, who raised her eyebrows. They could see Tina’s solicitor writing furiously in his notebook.

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘A policeman. The one investigating the case.’

  ‘What was his name?’

  ‘I can’t remember. It was the same policeman who brought me here.’

  ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘He told me that they had a suspect and were trying to get more evidence against him. He said he was a rock climber. I mean, who else could it have been?’

  ‘He didn’t mention Jake Fayter by name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tell me about Dan Hunter.’

  ‘What do you want to know? He works with me at the sorting office and has done for about seventeen years.’

  ‘He was Jake’s climbing partner?’

  ‘Yes. Dan was interested in climbing so I put them in touch. That was before I knew what Jake was up to.’

  ‘Did they go climbing often?’

  ‘From what I can gather but I didn’t know Dan that well to be honest. He’s a postman and I’m the depot manager.’

  ‘Were you aware that Dan didn’t turn up for work today?’

  ‘No, I’ve had the day off. Linda, my assistant, would’ve sorted that out.’

  Dixon paused.

  ‘Are you glad that Jake is dead?’

  Tina’s solicitor looked up.

  ‘My client doesn’t have to answer that question.’

  ‘It’s alright,’ said Tina. ‘No, I am not glad he is dead. It doesn’t bring my daughter back does it? I’m glad that he’s out of Sarah’s life but not that he’s dead.’

  Dixon brought the interview to a close. It had been short but it had confirmed what he already knew. Neither Tina Williams nor Sarah Heath had killed Jake. He turned to Jane Winter.

  ‘Release them, Jane. Ask the desk sergeant to lay on a car to take them home.’

  ‘Lewis will go mad!’

  ‘This isn’t about the drugs, and you and I both know it. This is about the birds eggs. I’ll stake my job on it.’

  ‘I think you just did, Sir.’

  Dixon was sitting in his office ten minutes later when the door flew open and Steve Gorman barged in.

  ‘You let them go. What the hell did you do that for?’

  ‘Shut the door.’ Dixon spoke calmly and quietly. Gorman shut the door. Dixon gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

  ‘Sit down.’

  Gorman sat down. Dixon waited until he did so and then stood up.

  ‘First things first, Steve. If you barge into my office and speak to me like that again you and I are going to fall out big time.’

  Gorman opened his mouth to reply but Dixon dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

  ‘Secondly, it is my investigation and if I choose to release a suspect or suspects then that is my decision and mine alone. Clear?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘You should also be aware that Tina Williams has confirmed in interview that you gave her sufficient information to identify Jake as the suspect in the death of her daughter.’

  ‘I didn’t tell her anything.’

  ‘You told her that the suspect was a rock climber and that was enough, apparently.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘Thanks to you, she knew before Jenna’s funeral that Jake was the prime suspect.’

  ‘But she didn’t kill him.’

  ‘No, I don’t think she did. Anyway, this is going to be out of my hands now, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Now, let’s try and get this investigation back on track. Get onto DVLA and get a detailed description of Hunter’s car. I also need the statements that you took this morning.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’ Gorman got up to leave Dixon’s office.

  ‘Make sure everyone is available for a short meeting at 6 o’clock, will you?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Not a good day, all in all,’ said Dixon. Mercifully, DCI Lewis was not listening in.

  ‘What progress on Hunter’s car, Steve?’

  ‘It’s a green VW Passat estate, Sir. 2005, so it’s the old shape. Registration number FYY 922,’ said Gorman.

  ‘Must be a personalised number plate or something, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘We need to find Hunter tomorrow.’ Dixon addressed Steve Gorman and DC Mark Pearce. ‘I want you two sat outside his house first thing in the morning and, if he hasn’t turned up by lunchtime, we’ll get a warrant and go in.’

  ‘Is stealing birds eggs an arrestable offence, Sir?’ asked Mark Pearce.

  ‘Yes it is. We also need to be looking for Hunter’s car. We know he hasn’t been seen since he went fishing, assuming, of course, that he actually went fishing. We know from the statement from Tim Keenan that Hunter used to go pike fishing this time of year so we need to get all of the car parks along the King’s Sedgemoor Drain and also Gold Corner Pumping Station checked for starters. Mark, can you get the local boys onto that in the morning?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Any news on the bank statements?’

  ‘I’ve got Fayter’s and there’s a transfer in from a Swiss account and then the payment out to the Subaru garage. Not much else. I’m still waiting for Dan Hunter’s to arrive,’ replied Mark Pearce.

  ‘Jane, can you chase up the High Tech Unit, please? We still haven’t had their report on Jake’s laptop and iPhone.’

  ‘I’ll get onto that first thing in the morning, Sir.’

  ‘Ok, well that’s enough for today. I can feel a beer coming on, I think.’

  Nine

  Dixon spent the morning reviewing the enhanced photographs and video footage of Jake taken by the tourists in the gorge. He could see Jake fighting the shakes until he could hang on no longer. He felt mixed emotions now, his sadness tempered by the knowledge that Jake had been dealing drugs and stealing birds eggs, but he remained grateful that the cameraman had turned away at the finish. He learnt nothing new from the footage, nor did he from Jake’s bank statements. Apart from the money arriving from Switzerland and the payment to the Subaru garage, there was very little activity, confirming, perhaps, that Jake lived hand to mouth on cash.

  Dixon knew that he needed to track down the dealer with the contacts in Dubai, and the seventy thousand pounds from the sale of the second batch of eggs. It was looking increasingly unlikely that Dan Hunter would be able to shed any light on this. Lunchtime had come and gone with still no sign of him and a search warrant was now being executed at 12 Wells Close, Burnham-on-Sea. Hopefully, that would turn up something useful.

  Just after 3.00pm there was a knock on his office door. It was Jane Winter.

  ‘Jane, any news on Hunter’s bank statements?’

  ‘Not yet, Sir, but we have found his car.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Gold Corner Pumping Station.’

  ‘I
told them to look there this morning, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘And there’s some abandoned fishing tackle out on the…er…South Drain, is it?’

  ‘Yes it is. Ring Steve Gorman and let him know. Then get your wellies.’

  Dixon turned right into the narrow country lane on the sharp bend before he reached East Huntspill. He followed the single-track lane carefully. He knew from experience that there were deep drainage ditches either side and the low evening sun was directly in his eyes as he headed towards Gold Corner Pumping Station. Some relief from the glare was offered by the occasional bush or tree but the Somerset Levels were a bleak and open place at the best of times, offering little in the way of shade or shelter.

  He arrived at Gold Corner Pumping Station and pulled into the car park to be met by PC Stevens, who had made the call. Dixon was assured that Scenes of Crime Officers were on their way and that a flatbed lorry had also been summoned to recover Hunter’s car.

  ‘What about divers?’

  ‘Coming from Bristol, Sir. It’s likely to be dark before they get here.’

  ‘Better tell ‘em to bring their torches then.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Any CCTV on the pumping station?’ Dixon pointed to the large brick and glass building at the junction of the South Drain and the River Huntspill.

  ‘I’ll check, Sir.’

  Dixon went to the back of his Land Rover and put on his wellington boots. Jane did the same.

  ‘Which side of the Drain is it, constable?’

  ‘That side, Sir,’ said Stevens, gesturing to the north. ‘Do you know the way?’

  ‘I do, yes, thank you.’

  Dixon crossed the road and went through the wooden five bar gate. Jane followed. They took the muddy farm track around to the right, over the River Cripps and went into the field adjacent to the South Drain. They walked along the north bank of the South Drain in the short section that ran behind the farm and the pumping station. Dixon could see fishing tackle hanging in the trees. They followed the bank around to the left and out onto the main section of the drain.

  The South Drain was part of the original drainage system that created the Somerset Levels. It was thirty yards wide and twelve to fifteen feet deep. The Environment Agency had announced sometime ago their intention to dredge it along its full length to create a deeper channel and so the North Somerset Angling Association had given up their licence to fish it. There had been no maintenance of the banks in recent years as a result and they had become overgrown. Nevertheless, it still held a good head of fish and was a popular venue, particularly now that no angling club licence was required.