LOOT & I'M WITH THE BAND: The DCS Palmer and the Serial Murder Squad series by B.L.Faulkner. Cases 5 & 6 (DCS Palmer and the Serial Murder Squad cases Book 3)

by Barry Faulkner

  ‘Too late, Sergeant – too late to save her now. Get back before the tank goes up. Nothing we can do now.’

  They retreated a safe distance and Gheeta radioed in for fire brigade assistance.

  Half a mile further up the lane, back towards the industrial estate, Sylvia Fenn gave herself a congratulatory smile and chuckled as she drove slowly – lights out – glancing in her mirror every now and then at the red glow in the darkness behind her. Things were working out better than expected; much better. She put the headlights on as she passed the industrial estate car park, noticing the blue flashing lights of several police cars still at Parks’s buildings on the airfield opposite. She didn’t notice the green Jaguar parked – lights out – in the industrial estate Car Park that gave her a hundred yards start and then followed, keeping at a discreet distance.

  Chapter 40

  It was early the following afternoon that Palmer and Singh both arrived at the office in Scotland Yard. Having had a very late night at Gloucester Police HQ, Palmer had insisted they had a car back to London and was home in the early hours. It was just gone three when he slipped into bed next to Mrs P., and a full hour later when his mind stopped churning over the facts of the case and he actually slept.

  He turned from updating the progress board in the team room as Gheeta entered and unslung her shoulder bag onto the desk next to Claire, who was still trying to find connections between the names in the case, but without any luck so far. Palmer smiled at Gheeta.

  ‘I thought I told you to have the day off, Sergeant?’

  ‘You did sir, but I may as well be here trying to make head or tail of this case as standing in my lounge doing the same.’

  She moved over beside him.

  ‘I just can’t get a pattern in my mind, guv – it’s like a jigsaw with a piece missing. Or am I just missing something obvious?’

  ‘No, you’re not. I go along with you.’

  He pointed to the board and used his finger as a pointer as he spoke.

  ‘We get Sidney Fenn turning up dead in a plastic bag in London; then we become aware of Charles Plant, who suffered the same fate in Brighton. Both tie into Harry Robson and Finlay Robson, who then both get killed themselves. The thread between them all is the Leytons’ looted gold. Then there are two unknown principal players, Mooney and Hilton, who disappear a bit sharpish when we want to talk to them. Next, Angela Rathbone does a bunk. We then get information that she and Mooney are an item, so perhaps they, together with Hilton, are the murderers of all four victims. We catch up with them and Parks; Parks has had phone calls from both Harry and Finlay Robson on the day Mooney and Hilton disappeared. Why? What has he got to do with it?’

  Gheeta shrugged.

  ‘All in it together maybe? Harry Robson afraid we’d get Mooney or Hilton, who would put the finger on him for the Plant and Fenn murders, so he arranges through Parks to get them into a safe house?’

  ‘No, I don’t buy that – not with the Harry Robson I knew in the game. If he thought anybody was going to drop him in it they’d be in a plastic sack under fifty tons of concrete themselves, and pretty quickly.’

  ‘So, as he didn’t do that to Mooney and Hilton it would point to them all being in it together.’

  ‘Yes, possibly. But you saw how Angela Rathbone and Harry Robson were acting in the City Concrete office – nothing in their manner towards each other would suggest to me they were in harmony on anything. No, I think we have two strands here: Harry and Finlay, and Mooney, Hilton and Rathbone. Maybe it started off with them all in it, but I wouldn’t mind betting there was a split.’

  ‘And Mooney and Hilton killed the Robsons?’

  ‘Why not? They’ve been put out of harm’s way in Gloucester. Angela Rathbone gives Mooney a bell and says Robson’s been taken in for questioning, so Mooney and Hilton think he might drop them in it.’

  ‘Or, if he got bail, take the gold and do a runner,’ Gheeta interrupted.

  ‘Yes, so either way they then have a good reason to break cover and get the gold themselves, and then get Parks to fly them quickly out. I’m sure he’d be receptive to a bar or two for his trouble.’

  ‘So, perhaps they all met up at the office by coincidence on the night of Robson and Finlay’s murders, and battle commenced?’

  ‘The timeline is right. Angela Rathbone phones Mooney when Robson is brought in for questioning – that was late morning. He and Hilton get on their way back to City Concrete to get the gold from the safe before anybody else can; Robson gets bail, and gets Finlay to meet him there too so they can get the gold and scarper – and bingo; as you say, all four end up in the office at the same time, a few heated words, and battle commenced.’

  ‘Where’s Angela Rathbone during all this? Is she involved?’

  ‘No, she is keeping her head down. Then Mooney would have rung her to tell her they’d killed Robson and Finlay and were off. But, if she’d gone with them back to Gloucester then, and not turned up for work the next morning it would have set our alarm bells ringing. No, she played it very cool.’

  Claire turned from her screen and interrupted their train of thought.

  ‘Sir, there’s something a bit wrong here.’

  They both moved beside her.

  ‘This is the immediate forensic report on Angela Rathbone’s death. It wasn’t an accident – the car was set on fire.’

  ‘What?’ said Palmer as he leant towards the screen.

  ‘Petrol was used as an accelerant. Must have been poured into the car – it wasn’t petrol from the car’s petrol tank because that was still intact, and none of the pipes were broken. The brigade had the fire out before it could explode.’

  Gheeta inhaled deeply.

  ‘So where did the petrol come from?’

  ‘And another thing,’ Claire added. ‘They’ve recovered gold bars from the wreckage and the ditch.’

  ‘Good,’ Palmer smiled. ‘We’d have a few very rich firemen in the Gloucester Brigade if they said they hadn’t.’

  ‘Ten bars, sir.’

  ‘Ten? Only ten? Are you kidding?’

  ‘No, just ten bars. And there’s none on the forensic team’s contents listing from Parks’s buildings or the aircraft’s interior that they were going to fly off in.’

  Palmer and Gheeta looked at each other as their minds took in the information and came to the same conclusion.

  ‘There’s our missing piece of the jigsaw, Sergeant. Our missing piece is an unknown person.’

  Claire was puzzled.

  ‘I don’t understand. What person?’

  Gheeta sat down.

  ‘All the gold – and we know it was about two hundred and thirty bars – had gone from Robson’s safe, and Mooney and Hilton are the only ones that could have removed it. They and Angela Rathbone scarper to Parks with it; we do the raid on Parks, and she gets out the backdoor with the gold. Then she crashes; we know it was a forced crash now, not an accident, because of the petrol. So somebody drove her off the road and set fire to her and the vehicle, but not until they had taken out all the gold they could see, leaving just the ten bars forensics recovered.’

  ‘And they would have to be quick,’ Palmer added. ‘With all that police activity and blue lights at Parks’s place, it would only be a short window of time before Rathbone would be chased when she got out the back. If we had chased her instead of going around the other way to block her off, we’d have nabbed the killer in action. Damn!’

  ‘I’ll go through the City Concrete employees again with a fine-tooth comb,’ Gheeta said as she turned on a computer. ‘They are all ex-cons, so I suppose it could be any of them.’

  ‘No, it would have to be somebody close to the Robsons or Angela Rathbone. They wouldn’t have broadcast they’d got their mitts on all that gold; somebody either sussed it out or was part of the team from day one and we’ve missed them somehow. Either that or somebody was playing a waiting game, and was forced to act when the raid went in.’

  ‘But th
ere isn’t anybody else.’

  ‘There is somewhere. We’ve missed them so far, but there’s another person somewhere. Somebody burnt Angela Rathbone and took the gold. I’ve got interviews booked downstairs with Mooney and Hilton later on; with a bit of luck, when they realise it’s all over and the gold has gone, we might get a name. I’m going for a coffee. You two want one?’

  They both nodded. Then Gheeta’s email pinged.

  ‘Aha!’ she said, pointing to her screen. ‘I asked the industrial estate management company by the airfield to email me a copy of their CCTV that covers the car park entrance for the evening. Might be interesting.’

  ‘And it might not. I need that coffee, I won’t be long.’

  He left as Gheeta downloaded the file and ran it. When he returned with the coffees five minutes later, Gheeta’s wide smile told him she’d found something.

  ‘What have you got then?’ he said as he gave them their coffees. ‘Your smile gives you away.’

  ‘Well, there could be two people to fill our missing person gap. Look at this.’

  Palmer stood behind her as she ran the grainy CCTV file on screen.

  ‘There, see?’ Gheeta pointed. ‘There’s Angela Rathbone coming through the perimeter gate from the airfield. She’s got two big shopping bags, which must be the gold bars; they look heavy. We lose her now as she crosses the road and comes into the car park and goes under the camera’s position. Then she goes back for the other two bags, and again we lose her under the camera’s position.’

  They waited as nothing happened and the camera showed the gate; then a car drove out and turned left.

  ‘There she goes. I’ll fast forward ‘cause nothing happens for fourteen minutes.’

  The picture whizzed through until Gheeta clicked her cursor to stop the ‘fast forward’ mode as a car came into the screen from the left.

  ‘And that is coming from the accident. Nobody passed us on that lane, and that is not Angela Rathbone’s car.’

  ‘Well it couldn’t be, could it?’ Palmer agreed. ‘Her car is going up in flames down the lane. And seeing that nobody entered the lane from the end we had blocked off, that must be the killer; somebody who had been waiting for her down the lane, and seized the opportunity when she did a runner as the raid went in.’

  Gheeta held up a hand to silence him.

  ‘Hang on, watch…’

  As the car passed by the car park and disappeared off the screen to the right, another car – no headlights – slowly came into the camera’s view and exited from the car park to the right.

  ‘So, who is that then? An accomplice? Doesn’t seem to be as it isn’t in a hurry, and left a good few seconds behind the killer’s car going past.’

  Palmer sipped his coffee.

  ‘Could be following it then, keeping a safe distance.’

  ‘It’s a Jag,’ Claire observed.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Palmer asked.

  ‘My dad had one for years – mad on them, he was. I’ll never forget the shape. That was a Jaguar, sir. Bet my mortgage on it.’

  Chapter 41

  Sylvia Fenn was tired, very tired. She sat at her kitchen table, looking at the four bags of gold bars she’d carried in through the back door under cover of darkness and heaved up onto it. She took a bar from a bag and put it on the table. A smile crossed her lips as she looked at it.

  Funny how things work out – two hundred thousand in cash upstairs, and God knows how much here in gold. Always planned to steal Finlay’s money, but the gold is a bonus – a bloody big bonus! Just have to sit tight now for some time, let it all cool down – keep playing the widow, and then when the time is right… hello, life of luxury.

  A sharp ring at the front door bell startled her from her dreams.

  Bit late for callers; nobody expected. Could be the police.

  She quickly took off her coat.

  She’d show them into the front room if it was; act surprised – just going to bed…

  She walked through into the hall and opened the front door. Nobody there.

  Bloody kids larking around...

  She relaxed, shut the door and clicked the lock into place.

  If they ring again, I’ll ignore it. A nice cup of tea, and then a hot soak and into bed.

  She climbed the stairs and went into the bathroom and turned on the hot tap in the bath.

  Life is good. Better hide that gold though, just in case.

  She went back downstairs and into the kitchen, and nearly jumped out of her skin. Sitting at the table was a lady in a gabardine coat and headscarf, her hands firmly holding a double-barrelled shotgun that pointed menacingly at Sylvia. She froze. Margaret Leyton spoke quietly but very firmly.

  ‘Do sit down. Not on the chair – on the floor if you would, with your back against the wall. One silly move and I’ll shoot you.’

  Sylvia Fenn was shaking as she lowered herself to the floor and shifted back against the wall.

  ‘Who are you?’

  Margaret Leyton pulled a kitchen chair from the table and sat facing her.

  ‘My name is Margaret Leyton. My husband is Stanley Leyton; you may have heard of him, he’s an MP? No? Oh well, he’s obviously not as well known as he thinks he is.’

  ‘W…w…what do you want? Why…why…?’

  ‘Why am I here? That’s easy, I’m here to collect what is mine – gold bars that were stolen from me and my husband, and seem to have ended up on your kitchen table. These gold bars.’

  She slid the bar on the table to the edge, and using one hand picked it up and put it back into one of the bags. Sylvia’s mind was racing as she desperately tried to think of a way out. There was only one: sacrifice the gold.

  ‘Take them… Take them all – just take them and go.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to. You know, I would have thought it would have been harder to find you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Charles Plant. Remember him, the bullion dealer from Brighton? He and your husband Sidney worked together on several occasions.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I knew Charles. Not very well, but I met him a few times. Why?’

  ‘He and I were… lovers.’

  She laughed.

  ‘Sounds a ridiculous name for two middle-aged adults, doesn’t it? ‘Lovers’. But we were – and we had plans too, such lovely plans. He and Sidney had hit the bullseye with our gold; shift it out slowly and nobody would be any the wiser. It was all going perfectly; and then your Sidney got greedy and got the Robsons involved, and it all went wrong. You had a thing going with the lad, Finlay.’

  ‘I didn’t, I…’

  ‘Don’t try to deny it. Charles knew all about it, and so did your husband. Oh yes, Sidney knew – he told Charles he knew. But he was going to let it go – keep the money coming in, and then sort out a divorce from you afterwards. Didn’t you know? I thought you might have found out he knew, and that was why you and Finlay had him and my Charles killed, to keep all the money.’

  ‘No, no I had nothing to do with any killings!’

  ‘Really? Now why don’t I believe that? It’s all ended up rather well for you, hasn’t it? Here you are, all alone with all the gold to yourself. Bingo, a full house.’

  ‘I didn’t plan this, I wasn’t involved in any of the murders.’

  ‘Really? What about the poor lady at the airfield – the one toasted in her own car?’

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about. What lady? What airfield?’

  Margaret Leyton laughed a cynical laugh.

  ‘Oh, do give me some credence. I was there, I saw you.’

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘You see when Charles was killed, and my dreams killed with him, I wanted to know why. And then the Robsons paid us a visit and I realised why: greed, pure greed. We had the police come around and so I sat tight for a while. Then seeing the Robson’s murders on the news, it was obvious things were moving along at a pace – and if I didn’t act my gold would disappe
ar quickly with somebody, and I’d never see it again.

  ‘So, I came up to London to poke around a bit and see what I could find out. My husband has a flat in Charing Cross – one of the perks of a rural MP’s life, the poor old taxpayer coughs up the rent each month. Anyway, I thought that secretary woman with the bright red hair would lead me to answers.’

  ‘Angela.’

  ‘Yes, Angela – Angela Rathbone; and lead me she damn well did. I followed her from the City Concrete place on the morning after the Robsons’ murders; nobody noticed me, the place was swarming with police and the usual crowd of ghouls who race to any murder scene. I followed her to her boyfriend Mooney’s place, and guess what? As I was sitting parked up, watching her load their clothes into her car, somebody else was watching too – you. I didn’t cotton on until I followed her from Mooney’s a few cars back; and then I noticed you in front of me, taking every turn she took; you even filled up before the M4 as she did. I had no idea who you were; first I thought you might be plainclothes police, but then two and two made four – especially when you parked up in the industrial estate behind the airfield. You had no suspicion that anybody else was interested in her did you, eh? You hadn’t noticed me, also intent on them.

  ‘You followed them to the restaurant in Gloucester and when they left you booked into a hotel; I didn’t, I followed them back to the airfield after their meal. It was pretty clear that they had the gold and not you, so I wanted to stay close to it, just in case they moved it. I had a most uncomfortable night in the car in that car park; and then I watched all day, trying to work out how to get into the place, grab the gold and get away. Then guess what? All hell breaks loose as that Detective Palmer led a raid on them; and who should come out of the back door but Angela, with four large bags of gold bars. Well, I guessed that’s what they were, the way she was struggling with them – and looking at these same two bags on the table, I guessed right. She came straight over the road and loaded them into her car – I hadn’t noticed it in the car park. And off she went.