Doors Without Numbers

by C. D. Neill

  He ignored the phone ringing on the desk opposite and ejected the DVD, replacing it in the evidence bag. Dunn leaned over him with exaggerated impatience to answer the phone, she greeted the caller then covered the mouthpiece and enquired where Galvin was. Hammond looked up and shrugged before returning to his brainstorming.

  The receiver was replaced but Dunn continued to stand close to him. “That was Galvin’s mother in law, she doesn’t sound happy, apparently he’s not answering his mobile.”

  Hammond didn’t look up. “I expect he needs a breather, poor guy is probably surrounded by nagging women and raging hormones at home.”

  He heard Dunn’s sharp intake of breath and automatically tensed his shoulders as if expecting a recrimination.

  “Well, apparently his wife thinks the baby is coming soon so I am going to find him. If you see him, make sure you tell him to phone home.”

  She waited until he grunted a reply before walking off at a brisk pace. Hammond looked up as she left. He contemplated on the irony of how women expected the world to slow to a stop when a baby was due yet insist of moving on following a death. His eyes were tired, he allowed the eyelids to close over them momentarily whilst he rubbed his face with both palms. He thought about Lloyd Harris and for the first time felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

  He was still at the desk half an hour later, trying to unravel the weave he had inherited from Harris when Galvin came in. He sat on the nearest chair to Hammond and told him he was terrified of what the next twenty four hours would bring. Hammond, lost in his own brooding, presumed Galvin was referring to the investigation and asked why the next twenty-four hours were particularly relevant, had Beech given a deadline? Galvin shook his head and explained he was talking about his impending role as a father. Hammond sighed and resisted the temptation to tell Galvin to concentrate on the job in hand. Instead he asked what was so terrifying about having a baby, it was part of human existence, perfectly normal.

  Galvin studied Hammond’s face for a moment, possibly aware that he was the cause of Hammond’s irritation, but his need to be counselled was greater than Hammond’s need for peace. “I haven’t a clue what I am supposed to be doing. Already I feel as if I am in the way, that I am a nuisance. Does it get any easier? What if I don’t feel anything for the baby?”

  “Galvin, the sad fact is that no first time parent has a clue what to do, it’s all guesswork. There will be times when your child will think you are their hero and then they grow up to consider you are an embarrassment, but during the time in-between, there will be moments that remind you of why you even considered the idea of having a baby in the first place. I have been a Father twenty-four years and I still don’t know how to be a good parent, but what matters is that you love your child and that they know it.”

  Hammond finished his speech and bent his head back over his notes. The air filled with silence that was only interrupted by Galvin’s sigh. He looked back up again at the younger man who had remained in his chair and was now biting his lower lip deep in thought. “Do you need to leave?”

  Galvin looked surprised. “No, my wife said it would be best if I stay here just in case it is another false alarm, but I’ve set my phone to have a particular ring tone so that I will know when she goes into labour.”

  Hammond got up from the chair. “In that case, you need a distraction. Come with me.”

  Obeying Hammond’s instruction, Galvin parked by the Kelsey’s apartment block and together they retraced Kelsey’s steps around the perimeter of the building. Hammond was finding the rest at the office had benefited his ankle and he was able to bear weight without discomfort. His pace equalled Galvin’s. They searched the undergrowth on either side of the path and compared their findings. A cigarette packet, plastic bottles and crisp packets were the only evidence of previous human activity.

  “Maybe Kelsey wasn’t dumping anything, you can easily see the road where you were parked in the window’s reflection. It’s possible he was just toying with you.”

  “Only a guilty conscience would make him think he was the one under scrutiny in the first place. The flat was too clean, it felt as if something was missing, We’ll continue.”

  The two men continued down London Road on either side and examined any possible hiding places. It became evident that they were wasting their time.

  “Kelsey came this way and was gone several minutes before his return to the flat. He wasn’t carrying anything on him on the way or on the return journey. Yet, I am sure he came down this way deliberately, so where would he have gone?

  “Visiting a friend?” Galvin’s voice was quiet but carried a hint of negativity. He had doubts that Hammond had interpreted Kelsey’s actions correctly. The man had probably just taken a walk, the only person who suspected Kelsey of hiding anything was Hammond and his suspicion was based purely on instinct.

  Hammond wasn’t listening. He glanced up and down the road, and forced himself to banish all self doubt. His gut told him that Kelsey had brought something from the flat to deposit somewhere. He had to listen to what his instinct was telling him. Galvin was standing waiting for instructions, his hand remained in his trouser pocket, no doubt clasped around his phone waiting for the call from home. Hammond’s stare caused the younger man to feel uncomfortable before he realised that Hammond was looking at the post office behind him.

  “To hide something of value, you need to ensure that you will get it back without running the risk of damage or discovery.” Hammond entered the post office and waited for the customers in the queue to be served before showing his identity card to the clerk.

  “Were you working here at nine this morning?” he asked with a smile.

  The clerk nodded affirmatively. “Did you serve this gentleman around the time you opened? He may have been your first customer.” Whilst he spoke, Hammond slid Kelsey’s e-fit under the glass division.

  The Clerk nodded, then called out to his female colleague who was occupied arranging sacks of mail ready for the next collection.

  “Yes, I remember him, I wouldn’t normally but Sarah asked me to run out and try to find him after he left.”

  “You did? Why?”

  The clerk didn’t answer Hammond, instead he called to his colleague who walked towards him with an enquiring expression. She returned Hammond’s smile as he bent down, directing his voice towards the microphone that allowed communication on either side of the glass window. He pointed to the e-fit and repeated his question. She studied the paper and then nodded, gesturing she would come around and talk to him at the front. She did so and they walked to the side of the shop where they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Yes, this is the man from this morning. He seemed pleasant enough, very polite.”

  “Did he buy postage for a parcel at all?” Hammond noticed she was wearing a black bra that was evident under her white blouse and averted his eyes.

  The woman nodded positively. “Yes. He asked for postage for printed papers, but of course, we have the new postage system in place now so we can only charge for weight, rather than size. I explained this and he put it on the scales, I told him how much he owed and he gave me the exact money before sliding the parcel underneath. Then he left.”

  “Could you describe the package for me?” Even as he spoke it, Hammond was not sure what kind of answer he expected but her response exceeded anything he would have wished for.

  “I’ve got it at the back. The package didn’t have a complete address on the front and no sender’s address. I got Stuart...” She pointed to the other clerk “..to run after him so that he could correct it and include it in the twelve o’clock collection, but he had gone. I was waiting to hear what I should do from my supervisor but in the meantime, a woman came in and tried to claim it on his behalf.”

  Hammond felt exhilaration rise within his chest. “Why didn’t you give it to her?”

  “Well, I couldn’t prove that she had the right to. I told her to get the gentleman who had tried to send
it to come back and write the recipient’s address in full.”

  “The woman that came in. Did she say who she was?”

  The clerk shook her head. “No, but I can describe her.” Her eyes looked up toward the ceiling as she engaged her memory. “Tall, slim, very attractive. Dark hair tied back in a elegant fashion. I reckon she must have been fifty or so.”

  Hammond handed her the e-fit of Goodchild. “Is this her?”

  The clerk smiled and nodded before looking at both men in turn. “Why? What have they done?”

  Hammond ignored the question and instead asked to see the parcel.

  Hammond returned to the office triumphant. He now saw that until that moment, he had followed a trail laid by assumption rather than looking at reality. He had believed Harris had wanted him to investigate suicides because he had found a murder victim’s hairbrush in a despondent’s apartment. This had been a ludicrous reason to start another enquiry, yet Hammond had done so because he had assumed Harris had good reason to. The reality of that situation was that no-one else would have bothered without more evidence of Mark Callum committing murder twenty years previously. From the moment he had agreed to help Harris, he had assumed that the suicides had been suspicious deaths which he now realised were not. All despondents had died by their own hand. Yet, their deaths had lead to an unexpected explanation, one that Hammond only now realised. He gathered up all the post-it notes from the desks and went in search for Morris.

  He found Morris in the canteen, he was texting on his mobile phone but quickly stopped as Hammond approached and held up a hand as if to ward off any enquiry.

  “Before you ask, I released her. There wasn’t enough to hold her.”

  Hammond paused before seating himself beside his colleague. “I’m not surprised. I think you are right. I don’t think Kathleen understands what this is all about either.”

  Morris looked at Hammond sharply. “You’ve changed your tune. Missing her already?”

  The sarcasm was lost on Hammond, he sat forward eagerly. “We were assuming that this was all to cover up deaths made to look like suicides, but that didn’t make sense. Harris wanted to discover something, but we didn’t know what. He used me to find out on his behalf, something that he believed he was unwittingly involved in.”

  Morris was watching Hammond with an annoyed expression, his fingers remained on the keypad of his phone as if waiting for the opportunity to continue his text message.

  “You said yourself that all those previously fostered by Goodchild may have been involved with illicit earnings, they survived on an income that we cannot trace. What if they were all involved with organised crime? Cheryl Bailey said that Goodchild chose her charges with a specific requisite, that they had a skill or ability that could be used somehow. Until now, I presumed that Rachel Turner had been investigating Goodchild for the purpose of tracing her biological son, Lucas Dean. But could Turner have been working with Goodchild, she chose each child on Goodchild’s behalf? That it was she who arranged for each of them to be referred to Goodchild’s care so that they could be used. Goodchild wasn’t registered as a foster carer, which meant that they were practically untraceable, and easily managed. Cheryl said that Goodchild would remind the children that they had to reverse their fortunes by striking back, she brainwashed them into compliance. But, it went wrong when Turner discovered that one of those she had referred to Goodchild was her own son. So she tries to undo the damage by reporting Bradley Kelsey as an unsuitable guardian hoping that her actions would expose the organisation.”

  Hammond’s mind was racing and he was finding his speech was becoming rushed. Morris watched him incredulously. “But that would expose herself to scrutiny. If what you say is true then Rachel Turner was equally guilty of child exploitation and would have faced charges.”

  Hammond shrugged. “She loved her son enough to take the chance .”

  “Do you think she was killed?”

  They both were silent with the knowledge that it was unlikely they would discover Rachel Turner, alive or dead.

  Morris eventually spoke. “What has this got to do with Cheryl Bailey?”

  “She knew too much. She brought attention to Theresa Davenport’s death, with the accusation that Theresa was manipulated into taking her own life. I looked into her death as a result of Cheryl writing on a public forum. Cheryl told me about Goodchild, about the connection between Harris, Goodchild and Kathleen.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain her murder.”

  “Yes, it does. Cheryl suspected Goodchild had caused Theresa to be depressed and reclusive but what she didn’t realise was that she had witnessed first-hand the workings of a criminal organisation. Even Salima was involved, she was used as bait to attract wealthy suitors who could then be manipulated into parting with their cash. A honey-trap I think you call it, but it went wrong when Salima was killed by a potential mark.”

  Morris had now leaned forward, he was dubious about Hammond’s theories but interested enough to listen further.

  “So Harris, what relevance has he to all of this?”

  There was a disturbance at the next table as an officer in tactical wear spilled his tea and yelped as the hot liquid scalded his hand. The two men looked over distracted for a moment before Hammond resumed voicing his thoughts.

  “I think Harris covered up Salima’s murder to protect Goodchild. Cheryl said that Harris had confronted Goodchild before taking Kathleen into his care. At first I thought it was because he wanted parental custody but he must have been aware that Kathleen was being used in some way by her mother. I know that the children in Goodchild’s care were all scarred; a marking left by Goodchild on their bodies to remind them that they belonged to her. (Those were Kathleen’s words.) If Harris suspected abuse then that would explain why he took Kathleen away from that harmful environment, but it doesn’t explain why he didn’t report Goodchild or even arrest her in his capacity as a Police Officer and attempt to protect the others. He must have been involved to a certain point, but was ignorant of the full extent of Goodchild’s crimes. When Mark Callum died, he became suspicious. The manner of death was peculiar as were the others. He wanted me to discover what she was up to and act accordingly.”

  Morris shook his head. “That doesn’t seem right to me. Why didn’t he just tell us everything himself?”

  “He was losing his memory, anything he would have said to us would have been invalidated by his mental impairment.”

  “His office was ransacked before he disappeared. You saw it. If Kathleen was telling the truth, Harris was in a rage when he left. Otherwise, it was staged for our benefit. You haven’t explained why.”

  “Harris was desperate to know the truth behind the suicides and I think he discovered it the night he disappeared. I just haven’t worked out how.”

  Hammond listed the items found in Kelsey’s flat. “The DVD’s found were filmed for the benefit of potential buyers of cheap labour. The photographs found on Kelsey’s phone were probably intended to be downloaded onto the internet. We now have a confirmed link between Kelsey and Goodchild. “ He went on to explain to Morris about the package Kelsey had attempted to send back to himself at the post office. Kelsey had probably rushed and in his haste, didn’t notice he had written an incomplete address. When he realised his mistake he sent Goodchild to collect the package on his behalf but the post office wouldn’t hand anything over without permission. The package had contained seventeen passports from minors. Kids from Eastern Europe, Africa and Asia. Morris’ eyes’ widened.

  “So the motive behind Cheryl’s murder and the attempted murder on you was to cover up child trafficking?”

  Hammond nodded. “I’m sure of it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “The kids were probably brought in via Eurostar. They can travel unaccompanied and there are no specialist police patrols in Ashford so they could easily have been brought over here from across Europe without too many questions being asked.” Morris’ left han
d had abandoned its task of trying to continue texting on his mobile, instead he returned the phone to his trouser pocket as he stood up from the table, indicating Hammond do the same. They walked from the canteen, their heads bowed, as they attempted to compile a plan of action between them.

  “We need to find Kelsey. I was hoping that Traffic had picked him up but his trail went cold five miles from his flat. The car was abandoned and I doubt that any vehicle search will prove fruitful.” Morris stopped walking suddenly and stood in the middle of the corridor, ignoring other pedestrians who attempted to get past him by shuffling sideways against the wall. Feeling it was necessary to apologise on his colleagues behalf, Hammond smiled at the irritated faces and stepped back to allow access.

  “You know Kathleen better than I. Are you convinced she knows nothing about this? If she is involved...” Morris’s voice trailed off.

  Hammond faced the other man directly. “Harris was adamant that Kathleen was kept in the dark about what he asked me to do. I presumed it was because he didn’t want her to remember about her childhood with Goodchild, but now I wonder whether it was to protect her from knowing what they were involved in.”

  “Harris must have known that Goodchild was involved in trafficking. He told you about the girls brought in for prostitution, he was probably part of it.”

  “No, I think Harris was a grass eater, not a meat eater.” He spoke the thoughts aloud but he was reassuring himself rather than Morris. He had wondered before how corrupt Harris had been but now he realised that Harris had simply pretended not to notice what was going on, rather than being directly involved.