by Ted Tayler
“Did you ever see her talking to Warren Baker?”
“The creepy forensics guy, I would hope not. Genevieve was a curvy, attractive woman who kept herself to herself. There were rumours she was seeing a married man, but I didn’t find out who he was while I still worked there.”
“A married police officer?” asked Gus.
“Who else are we going to meet, Gus? I wouldn’t have met Phyllis if she hadn’t been in the back office. When you’re both in the job, the relationship has a better chance of success, in my view. Civilians don’t understand us.”
“That’s enough background for me, Phil. You didn’t see anyone slipping that phone in their pocket, and with the many comings and goings, someone might have got away with it with no one being the wiser. We’ll keep searching. Thanks for your help. Thank Phyllis for the coffee and biscuits, won’t you? Take care, both of you.”
Phil saw Gus to the front door. Phyllis joined him on the step, and she waved at Gus as the Focus slowly pulled away from the kerb. Gus stopped in the nearest layby and studied his phone. Sarum Close, just off the A360. Twenty minutes’ drive at this time of day. Gus realised he had thirty minutes to kill before Alex would arrive. This layby was as good a spot as any to mull over what they’d learned since yesterday.
After five minutes, Gus had a thought. He called the Old Police Station office to speak to Neil Davis.
“Alright, guv,” said Neil. “Did you get lost?”
“Not a chance, Neil. I’m on familiar ground. How did you get on identifying that senior police officer?”
“Crashed and burned. I dug out the family tree for every station across the force area for the years we were interested in. It would surprise you how many names there were, guv. You remember the officers who stick around for years, like yourself, no offence. But then, officers are just passing through, people on temporary secondments, and those who retired through ill-health.”
“Skip to the bottom line, Neil,” said Gus.
“I couldn’t find anyone whose wife died of cancer during the years I checked.”
“Perhaps Serena Campbell got the dates wrong,” said Gus.
“I thought of that, guv, and extended the period by two years on either side. Perhaps Ms Campbell got the whole thing wrong, guv. The man at the parties wasn’t a senior officer.”
“Serena Campbell convinced me she was telling the truth, Neil,” said Gus. “Okay, we’ll need to grill the woman again on the matter. Why don’t you and Luke get onto that?”
“Will do, guv. Is that all?”
“Can I speak to Blessing, please?”
“Yes, guv,” said Blessing, “How can I help?”
“Have you linked the names we got from Serena Campbell with Graham Street, Blessing?”
“Kathy Mellor gave birth to a son in 1972. She named him Derek. Kathy married John Preston earlier in the same year.”
“Derek Preston, the builder, is one of Graham Street’s children? John married Kathy when she was pregnant by another man. Did he know? What a tangled web we have before us, Blessing.”
“It gets better, guv, or worse, depending on how you look at it. Sonya Tucker had a baby by Graham Street in 1968. Ralph Tucker, the tree surgeon, is another half-brother of Martyn Street.”
“Don’t tell me,” said Gus. “The third woman’s maiden name was Milligan, or she married someone of that name.”
“No guv,” said Blessing. “Maureen Glendenning had a child, name and whereabouts unknown. She may have put the baby up for adoption. Maureen disappeared soon after the birth. Nobody has seen or heard of her since 1968. She’s believed to be living in Spain.”
“Many thanks, Blessing,” said Gus. “I’m glad I spoke to you before I meet two of Graham Street’s children this afternoon. This case was strange at the beginning. Now it’s getting surreal.”
“Good hunting this afternoon, guv,” said Blessing. “Alex should reach Bemerton Heath in fifteen minutes.”
Gus ended the call and spent the next fifteen minutes revising every opinion he had of anyone connected to this case. As the clock on the dashboard ticked closer to one o’clock, Gus drove the short distance to Sarum Close. Alex had already parked outside the house where MP Builders were working. The van was a giveaway.
Gus parked the Focus and crossed the road to join Alex Hardy.
“Have you heard from Neil, Alex?” he asked.
“We spoke before I left, guv. It frustrated Neil not finding the name of the senior officer.”
“Did Blessing share her findings with the rest of you?” asked Gus.
Alex grinned.
“We could tell what Blessing was finding was dynamite, guv,” said Alex. “It was as if Ted Hastings was in the room.”
“I know what you’re on about for a change,” said Gus. “Suzie never misses an episode of Line of Duty, although I can’t imagine Blessing using the language that character does.”
“Not quite,” said Alex, “but ‘Holy Moly’ and ‘Heaven help us’ told us she’d found something juicy.”
“Theo Reeves told us Graham Street fathered children with several women. Until I heard from Blessing thirty minutes ago, I never imagined so many of them connected to the case. It has to be significant, surely?”
“Two conversations this afternoon could give us the answer to that one, guv. Shall we get Stuart Milligan out of the way first?”
Gus nodded his agreement. They walked up the driveway to where the builders had parked their van. Derek Preston sat inside, eating his lunch. Stuart Milligan stood on the doorstep watching them.
“The owners are at work,” he said. “We can do this inside. I’m painting the lounge, so let’s use the kitchen.”
Gus and Alex followed Milligan along the hallway into the kitchen. The pair had been working here installing a fitted kitchen. He preferred the rustic look of his kitchen at the bungalow. That looked as if its owners used it regularly. This room was more for show than anything else: white goods and chrome everywhere, but no warmth or soul.
“What did you want to ask me?” asked Stuart Milligan.
“Tell us about the Monday morning of the murder,” said Gus. “Leave nothing out.”
“I arrived at the Reeves’s house in Oakley Road at eight-fifteen. As I reversed the van into the corner of the driveway, Theo Reeves was just leaving for work. Marion came out of the house to chat with me for a minute, then went back indoors. I started fetching my tools from the van and transferring them to the rooms inside the house where we planned to work that day. Steph, the daughter, was eating breakfast in the kitchen when I passed the door. I said hello; she nodded and carried on eating. Steph cycled to school at around twenty-five past eight, the same time as normal. I heard a mobile phone. It must have been Marion’s, but she wasn’t talking to anyone. I asked her if everything was okay as she rushed out of the house. She was later than usual; it was after nine. Marion left here fifteen minutes earlier than that every weekday we’d worked here until that morning.”
“Where was Derek while this was going on?” asked Alex.
“Derek was here, moving the gear around and preparing to start work.”
“Derek’s sat in the passenger seat of your van today,” said Alex. “Do you drive everywhere, or do you take it in turns?”
“We’ve taken it in turns for the twenty years we’ve worked together. Derek drives his car if he needs to go to the bank or when one of his kids had football practice a few years back. Something which meant he needed to leave a job early. Our kids are old enough to make their own way anywhere these days.”
“What about the Monday morning of the murder?” asked Gus. “Was Derek in the van when you arrived?”
“Derek drove his car that day,” said Stuart Milligan, “He wanted to bank several cheques that arrived in the post on Saturday. Money was tight, and suppliers were putting the pressure on. We need to bolster our bank balance to make sure none of our cheques bounced.”
“When did Derek leave t
he house to visit the bank?” asked Gus. “How long was he away?”
“It was after Marion left. No later than a quarter past nine. I wasn’t checking the clock, but he must have got back before ten.”
“Are you certain of that?” asked Alex.
“How long does it take to drive into town, pay in a few cheques and drive back?” said Stuart. “Ask him when you finish talking to me.”
“According to Theo Reeves,” said Alex, “who did that journey every day, it took four or five minutes to reach the town centre. The banks opened at nine, so even with an early morning rush, Derek would have been in and out of the bank in five minutes. If Derek left no later than nine-fifteen, he should have gotten back here in around fifteen minutes, twenty minutes tops. You said he must have got back by ten. Why are you so sure of that?”
“We have the radio on while we’re working. There was something on the news bulletin on the hour that we laughed about. I remember what it was. Our kids were young then, and we took them to a Lapland-style theme park in Hampshire just before Christmas. It was a rip-off, and loads of parents complained. They jailed the brothers who set it up for a year that day.”
“How can you be sure it wasn’t the eleven o’clock news bulletin?” asked Gus.
“If I’d heard it on my own at ten, I would have told Derek when he got back, wouldn’t I? As I said, check with Derek. See if he remembers what we heard.”
“When did you hear about the murder?” asked Alex.
“We’d stopped for lunch,” said Stuart. “Theo came home in a state, told us to pack up, and he’d be in touch when he needed us again. A police officer in a uniform arrived as I was driving the van off the driveway. Theo let her in straight away. I knew something serious had happened but didn’t find out Marion died until later that day. I thought Steph had got knocked off her bike cycling to school. Something like that. You never think it will be murder, do you?”
“And Derek?” asked Gus.
“He was still walking to his car. I was going in the opposite direction, so we didn’t speak until I rang him later that evening to talk about Marion. We saw her every day; she was a good person.”
“You didn’t see Stephanie or Martyn?” asked Gus.
“No, I don’t know how they got home. I guess the police collected Steph and Martyn from school and work, then brought them back. The woman I saw arrive in her car was there for that reason.”
“A Family Liaison Officer,” said Alex. “Yes, that’s normal procedure. Did either of you recognise the woman?”
“I’d never seen her before,” said Stuart, “Derek was on the pavement walking to his car as she arrived. She was behind him; he might not even have seen her. I never mentioned her when we spoke later.”
Gus tried to make the numbers work while Stuart spoke with Alex. Derek Preston was one of Graham Street’s children. Did he know that, or had John and Kathy Preston kept it from him? Could Derek Preston be the killer? That was impossible if he was here with Stuart at ten o’clock.
Time of death could only be one hundred percent accurate when a skilled medical practitioner was present at the exact moment it occurred. Perhaps Marion Reeves died at nine-thirty? No, that didn’t work either. Serena Campbell told him the text message she received from the blackmailer said they’d seen the builder’s van reversing onto the drive and Stephanie leave for school.
Derek Preston was at Oakley Road at nine twenty-five. Stuart Milligan was inside the house getting ready to start work. The pair weren’t together. Derek had arrived in his car and transferred his gear from the van to whichever room in the house he was due to work. Derek could have sent that text message.
Derek Preston left Oakley Road to visit the bank but took a detour to Churchfields.
“I think we’re ready to speak to Derek now,” he said.
Alex left the kitchen and walked to the front door.
“The van’s gone, guv!” he shouted.
“Call it in to Bourne Hill, Alex,” said Gus, dashing into the hallway. “Get a general alert bulletin issued to every officer in the area. Preston can’t have got far. You know the colour and make of the van, and the signage is a giveaway. Get the registration of the van from Milligan. Ask him for details of the car Preston drives. Send uniforms to his home address as a matter of urgency in case he switches cars. Arrest Preston, get him into custody. He’s wanted in connection to a crime.”
“Is Preston our killer, guv?” asked Alex.
“Can’t be sure,” said Gus. “But everything points to him being our blackmailer.”
“I can’t believe it,” said Stuart. “You must have got it wrong. I’ve known Derek ever since we were at school.”
“Did you know John Preston wasn’t his father?” asked Gus.
“You’re kidding?” said Stuart.
“Think back to the week after the murder,” said Gus. “Did you get a phone call from your bank?”
“Not that I can remember. Why?”
“If you’ve still got statements going back seven years, I should check Derek paid in those cheques on Monday morning. I bet those statements will show he went to the bank in the days following the murder when you two took time off. Theo didn’t want you here until after the funeral. Unless someone had an urgent job to offer you, you had nowhere to go. Am I right?”
“I did a few jobs at home,” said Stuart. “What they say about builders is spot-on. Our wives get no running repairs done, even though they’ve got experts on hand. My wife had nothing to moan about after the ten days to a fortnight I spent ticking off items on her to-do list. I don’t know what Derek did while we waited. We went to Oakley Road as soon as Theo called to say we could start work again. It wasn’t the same, though. He wasn’t that interested in getting it finished. Steph and Martyn were in bits.”
“Theo has a slightly different view of that time,” said Gus. “He thought you hung around longer than necessary. Theo told us you only went there one day a week. Sometimes you left things unfinished for several weeks.”
“Things are making sense now,” said Stuart. “Derek was the one who didn’t want to go there to work. He said it made him feel uncomfortable. I was uneasy too, so I just went along with what he said.”
“Where would Derek run to?” asked Alex, who had returned to the kitchen and had heard the latter part of the conversation.
“No idea,” shrugged Stuart. “He must have panicked. His wife is at work in Salisbury, and the kids are at school. Derek wouldn’t leave them behind.”
“Are his parents still alive?” asked Gus.
“John, his father, well, I always thought he was his father, was a lot older than Kathy. It would have been 2009 when he died. Kathy died in January, a couple of months before Marion’s murder.”
Gus was happier with the numbers now. They still had a significant problem to solve, but there was light at the end of the tunnel.
CHAPTER 12
Gus and Alex left Stuart Milligan at the house on Sarum Close and drove in convoy to Wilton House. They had an hour, at least, before meeting Ralph Tucker. The fruit loaf at the Garden Centre café was an enormous temptation.
“What do you think Stuart Milligan will do, guv?” asked Alex as they found a seat in the café.
“We warned him not to contact his partner,” said Gus. “Milligan seemed a decent sort. I imagine he’s wondering how much it will cost to get the van signage altered. If he gets it back in one piece.”
“We need to speak to Derek Preston’s wife, guv,” said Alex. “Milligan didn’t think Preston would do anything stupid, but you never know. Preston knows what he’s done. He might think it’s the only way out.”
“I don’t believe Preston is our killer, Alex,” said Gus. “The timing doesn’t fit, nor would a blackmailer kill the goose that laid the golden egg. Of course, Marion Reeves may have died earlier than the time in the murder file. Milligan swears his partner returned to the house well before ten o’clock. What didn’t he say?”
&
nbsp; Alex looked puzzled for a second and then snapped his fingers.
“Milligan didn’t say Preston had changed his clothing or was covered in blood when he returned. Why did he run if he didn’t do it, guv?”
“If Preston admits he was in the car, demanding money from Marion Reeves in return for intimate photos, he believes nobody will accept his story she was alive when he left her.”
“The sooner we find him and get him into custody, the better, guv,” said Alex. “Derek Preston has a lot of explaining to do, but he could provide us with vital information.”
“There’s a good chance Preston saw the killer between getting out of the Lexus and walking to his car, you mean?” asked Gus.
“We might get lucky, guv,” said Alex.
Gus tucked into his extra-large slice of fruit loaf and looked around the room. Serena Campbell wasn’t working this afternoon. Gus tried to think what they’d forgotten to ask her. The untraceable senior police officer was a nuisance. Gus put that part of the enquiry on hold until they homed in on the major prize. The person who murdered Marion Reeves.
“The guy just walking into the café could be our tree surgeon,” said Alex.
“I never met Graham Street,” said Gus. “Tough to tell whether there’s a likeness between Ralph Tucker and his father. Can you see anything in the three men we’ve identified as Street’s children to suggest they were related?”
“Martyn Street is much taller than the man I’m looking at, guv, but physically they’re similar. We haven’t met Derek Preston yet, except for a brief sighting of him munching on a sandwich in the van.”
“I’m in the right place, aren’t I?” said Ralph Tucker. “You two are the police officers I’m supposed to meet.”
“Sit down, Mr Tucker,” said Gus. “I’m Gus Freeman, and this is DS Alex Hardy from Wiltshire Police. We have several questions for you relating to Marion Reeves and Martyn Street.”
“I remember Marion Reeves,” said Ralph, shaking his head. “Nasty business, that. You didn’t find who did it, did you?”
