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by Malcolm Hollingdrake


  It was Harry Nixon who answered. “Hull. Now, sir?” He noted the location and jotted down the contact details before replacing the receiver and rubbing his head.

  “Not a happy bunny, Harry?” Grimshaw leaned across his desk and ruffled his hair. “Seek and you shall find, my friend, that’s the policeman’s lot.”

  “Fucking Hull of all places.” He picked up the phone and dialled the contact. He needed to know if he would require a translator and their exact location for the rest of the day. He also wanted Forensics to search the van and their belongings before he arrived. He collected the file on ‘H’, photographs of the crime scene and the evidence.

  ***

  As they opened the door the bell signalled their arrival at Jo’s. The familiar smell greeted them. As they released Leonard’s hands, he immediately pulled his hat down to just above his eyes as Jo walked into the shop. She smiled and clapped her hands. “A very happy birthday, Leonard, and welcome to my shop. I hope you like meeting all of my friends. I know you’ve met and liked Karl’s.”

  He looked first at Penny and then at Karl.

  “What do you say to Jo, Leonard?”

  “Happy birthday,” Leonard said in all innocence.

  They smiled.

  Jo came around from behind the counter and held out her hand. “It’s your birthday. Come, I have something for you.”

  To Penny’s amazement he took her hand and followed. They went up the stairs to her apartment and set out on the small table were four glasses of orange juice and a small cake holding one candle. Leonard’s other hand went straight to his mouth and he turned to look at Penny. She watched as the saliva dribbled down his chin and she moved swiftly to collect the drips with her handkerchief. Karl could see the mother’s love in her eyes and now here, with people who showed her son kindness, she was blooming.

  They helped him out of his coat and put his hat on the chair. He blew out the candle, quickly had his drink and a piece of cake and was ready to see what Karl had brought him for.

  “Your mum and me will stay here. We won’t get customers as I’ve put the closed sign on the door and dropped the latch.” She emphasised the words, dropped the latch, and smiled at Karl. It did not go unnoticed and he grinned. “Karl will show you my wonders of the natural world.”

  The gerbils and the Degus fascinated Leonard, especially as Karl had to lift the roll of twigs to reveal the curled up rodents. He explained that they were wrapped together as they liked company and felt safe, just as he liked a hug from his mum. He explained too that some were separated as they were different sexes, but Leonard showed no interest. It was as they moved into the room at the back of the shop he grew more curious. Here were the reptiles. Some were familiar but others were new to him. He loved the Desert Blonde Tarantula and he squealed with delight as Karl put it on his hand.

  “Spiders have eight eyes, Leonard, eight. How many do you have?”

  “Two.” He instinctively pointed to them.

  “And how many knees do you have?”

  He did the same, laughing out loud. “They’re like Tony. This one is pretty and this one too.” He pointed to a Pink Zebra spider in the next case. As they moved round, Leonard settled as he became overwhelmed by the number of animals and insects collected in one place.

  Jo turned to Leonard. “Some people don’t like shops like this as they feel the animals should be free, but they help youngsters understand the beauty of the natural world. Without these places we would never see such magnificent creatures in Harrogate other than at the circus or a zoo.”

  As they approached the large vivarium at the end of the room, for the first time Karl sensed Leonard’s reluctance to move closer. He lifted the cover and gently brought out Lilith, the four-foot constrictor and allowed it to wrap around his arm. “This is a constrictor, Leonard. It wraps itself around the things it will eat. She is like Kaa, only bigger.”

  Leonard moved closer and put out his arm.

  “Not this time. She could hurt you and I don’t want to hurt her getting her free from you. Just look for the moment.”

  ***

  Harry Nixon turned right at the roundabout on Hedon Road and followed the satnav instructions. His mood had changed as the traffic had been lighter than he had anticipated and the sound of the gulls’ cries and the sight of the boats acted as a tonic, as did the view as he neared Hull. Once at the docks, he was soon through to the second security barrier. He leaned out of the car and pressed the communication button. Within seconds it was raised and he parked between two border force vans.

  Custom House, the force’s main building was not unattractive. On entering he received the obligatory lanyard denoting his visitor status and was then escorted to an office on the first floor. There was no one there.

  “Mr Sullivan will be with you shortly, Mr Nixon. May I get you tea or coffee?” Harry smiled as he had followed the Clive Sullivan Way to get there. “Coffee, please. White, no sugar.” He looked out of the window across the car park towards the dock. Two large cranes, like sentries, one blue and one yellow, towered way above everything else. Even though the view did not stretch to the ocean he had seen worse. As he craned his neck, the Hull-Zeebrugge ferry was clearly visible and the revving of wagon engines and reversing warning indicators penetrated the double glazing.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Mr Nixon, John Sullivan and before you ask, I’m not a relative of Clive. If I had a pound …” He carried the coffee, a cup and saucer – Cyril would approve. “As you may know we have the facilities to hold these men for twenty-four hours with the support of the port police. After forensic tests on the van, the contents and the vehicle have been moved to temperature controlled storage. As you can imagine after the latest dreadful tragedy linked to this port, we have increased the number of checks not only for inbound but also for outbound. When you’re ready.”

  The three men had been kept separately since their arrest and the youngest was the last to be brought into the secure room. The others had remained silent and disinterested. Harry checked his Dictaphone and the file he had brought with him after returning the items from the last interview. An officer from the Port Police stood at the door. Harry said nothing, he neither looked at the man nor made any attempt to speak. It had been established they all understood and spoke English, even though they had said very little in the previous interviews. Harry slid a photograph of Owen and Quinn across the table. They were both dressed in jeans and shirts.

  “Have you seen these men before?” Harry assessed the man was in his early twenties. There was neither recognition nor any emotion shown as there should not be as he knew neither. Harry then brought out a recent photograph of Humphrey. It was found at the cottage on his mobile, probably taken within the month. As he pushed it across the table, he saw it immediately, the glance away, the immediate shake of the head. He slipped a photograph of the butcher’s knife and glove found at Bostock’s farm. He put that on top of Humphrey’s photograph. The latest had been taken at the crime scene, it showed the wires hanging from the tree and the odd bloodied fleece close by. Harry sat back. He said nothing. The young man fumbled with the three images as he constantly shook his head and pulled the occasional face at the crime scene. It was the last piece of paper that Nixon brought to the table that had the effect. It showed a picture of a prison cell on one side and a boarding card on the other. Harry flicked it one way and then the other.

  “You decide to work with me, and tell me who he is and what he’s done, and you can go. Or we’ll decide in court from the evidence we have. Considering what your friends have said, you’ll be going here.” He let his finger rest on the picture of the cell. “Whereas they,” he turned the card over to show the boarding pass, “will be long gone.”

  ***

  Leonard was reluctant to leave Lilith. He kept saying the word over and over again but it sounded more like Lilly as he manoeuvred himself to look directly in the snake’s eyes.

  “It’s looking at me,
it’s looking at me.” The words he would normally cry when he saw a child were spoken with a softness. “It’s like the seat in the park.”

  Karl knew to what he referred. A good number of the seats in Valley Gardens had iron serpents for legs; the head and protruding forked tongue below the bench and the dragonlike tail forming the backrest. The serpent had long-standing links to Harrogate.

  Karl put the snake back and covered the vivarium. “If you’re good today, maybe Jo will invite us back to see her animal friends again.”

  Penny and Jo had returned and Leonard turned and smiled. “If you’re good,” they said in unison.

  Within half an hour the three were back at the house and Leonard was guided into the room; the curtains had been drawn to give the best atmosphere for revealing the gift. Penny had covered his eyes with her hand. They heard a slight chuckle mixed with the words he kept repeating – happy birthday, Leonard. Happy birthday to me. The light from the fish tank on the stand glowed brightly in the semi-darkness, spilling a warm turquoise tint onto the furniture.

  “After three, Leonard. One, two, three!” Penny lowered her hand and waited.

  “Happy birthd …” He stopped, moved towards the aquarium and looked in, his face gaining colour the closer he was to the glass. He saw the colour change to his hands and laughed.

  “Happy birthday, Leonard. The fish are yours. I’ll help you keep them safe, change the water and clean the tank. You must feed them and you can give them names. They’re relying on you to look after them properly like I look after Tony, Kaa and the dragon, Puff.”

  Turning to look at Karl, Leonard’s smile slowly evaporated. He moved towards his mother, occasionally looking back at the aquarium. He went out of the room, collected his tiddly winks and started to play his solitary game.

  ***

  Nixon waited. He had folded his arms and settled back in the chair. He felt the slight vibration of the man’s foot bouncing nervously on the floor. It was time. Nixon slowly leaned across and collected the photographs one by one, deliberately leaving the card showing the boarding pass to the end. He checked his watch and then nodded to the officer at the door who moved over and grabbed the back of the man’s chair. As Nixon leaned across to collect the card, he heard the words he wanted to hear.

  “Billy, his name is Billy, that’s all I know. He măcelar, meatman, butcher, you say, yes?”

  Nixon brought out the photographs again, spreading them in front of the young man. “Which one?”

  The finger dropped straight onto Humphrey.

  The meeting, made more disturbing by the recent news of the human trafficking tragedy linked to those very docks, played on Nixon’s mind. Passing myriad articulated wagons spewing from the port made him wonder about the cargoes they distributed throughout the United Kingdom. Like a virus suddenly entering the bloodstream, these wagons travelled the arteries of the country. Most were totally innocuous, vital, in fact, to the development of business and society but every now and then … the success rate in prevention and arrests was still high, but what about the ones that went undetected? They were only seeing the tip of the iceberg. When it had been opened at the dock, the van he was chasing only contained carcasses of dead animals. The other cases were far more devastating. It was clear that with the increasing number of people willing to risk all for whatever their reason to come to the country, further tragedy and criminality was inevitable. The grass is always greener, he said to himself.

  ***

  Cyril was perched on the edge of Owen’s desk extolling the virtues of the Caribbean and in particular the west coast of Barbados.

  “Like all places, Owen, I’m sure it has a dark underbelly. After all, there was a snake in the Garden of Eden. People look at Harrogate and think that we’re still living in the past, the quaint Victorian town untouched by present times. Only when they see people sleeping in doorways, hear the news of sheep rustling in the Dales and when reports of a murder hits the national press do they open a myopic eye and see what’s truly going on.” He let two of his fingers delve into the mug containing sweets which was positioned to the left of the computer. To his surprise, he managed to collect one straight away. “You don’t mind do you, Owen?”

  Owen smiled. “That’s why they’re there. We all need a sugar rush.”

  As he spoke Shakti waved, one hand clamped to a phone. “Nixon, definite ID on Humphrey as being a key player in the rustling ring. He’s on his way back. Can we now presume his death was in some way linked to that or previous misdemeanours as far as cruelty to animals is concerned? Evidence points that way to him, Peterson and Lyons. And, sir, if that’s the case what about Trevor Bostock?”

  Owen advised, “Until we locate him we make no presumptions.”

  “Nothing from social media or the news bulletins?” Cyril asked almost knowing the answer. “It’s strange. A while back we investigated a case of people trafficking, they used the Brunswick Tunnel as a means of controlling the people they abused. Following the news coverage, when it all came to court, the reports clearly detailed the cruelty these people showed to the animals and their human slaves. The cruelty to the dogs produced far more outrage from the public than the psychological and physical trauma the humans suffered. People will turn on those harming animals, of that I’ve no doubt. I also know the killer’s one such person or persons who have a strong, if not misguided, belief in the way society should deal with animal cruelty. For that very reason we have a focus and the priority is to locate Bostock.” He stood and went to find April.

  The kettle had only just boiled as April poured the water into a small brown teapot. Cyril appeared at the door. “Could you squeeze two cups from that and pop into my office?”

  April turned and smiled. “Five minutes. Biscuit too?” Cyril gave a thumbs up.

  In his office, Cyril pulled two chairs side by side. “I was fascinated by your comments about Lilith, especially in relation to the Bostocks’ alleged relationship. If, as we believe, she is being honest and I’ve no reason to doubt her, then there’s a hidden relevance within the name. I’ve since done some reading and the idea of two Eves, a good and a bad, I see as a strong link even though it’s a reversal from female to male, Trevor and Ted. I also have a suspicion that Belinda Bostock has an idea where Trevor is living. Now whether the relationship is still ongoing is anyone’s guess but her reluctance to come forward with information from the very start of the investigation makes me think that’s the case.”

  “Fear is a strong emotion, as is guilt. I believe, and so do Quinn and Shakti, that she experiences both within the relationship. I feel she’s a lady who realised that she couldn’t have what she wanted in her marriage but she was also in a position that she didn’t want to relinquish it for whatever reason. As the cliché goes, you make your bed and you lie in it. Only she had a number of beds she chose to lie in.”

  As Cyril listened, he sipped some tea. “We’ve had no response from forces’ groups, or his old regiment which is strange. I looked at his service record, nothing out of the ordinary. Difficult time then with Ireland, of that I have no doubt.”

  “With Lilith, sir, she was cast out of the Garden of Eden. She was made from the same clay as Adam but Eve was made from his rib. That’s why Lilith was a free thinker, a free spirit or demon. That’s also why modern feminist groups revere her as the first independent woman. However, according to some accounts, she was so jealous of Adam and his partner that she came back as the snake – the reason she is depicted with the serpent – to destroy their relationship. Now if we put that into the context of today’s scenario what do we have?” She paused and looked directly at her boss, not giving him time to speak. “Let me ask you this. Who is jealous of whom?”

  Cyril felt it was like twenty questions. He took a while before answering. “Trevor is jealous of his brother, Ted.” He paused again. “For two reasons. Firstly, their father didn’t trust him with any part of the farm. It went to the younger of the two sons. Secondly, Belinda.
He saw how happy Ted was with her, even when they failed to produce children they stayed together, and on the surface appeared to be contented. It was after his gallivanting and his wild life grew stale that he realised what he might have had. A share in the farm, a wife and probably kids.”

  “You’re not going to go Cain and Abel on me are you, sir? You’re not likening their father to God and that Abel, Ted, the younger was favoured over Trevor?”

  “I’ve known people in families fall out and kill for a lot less. Okay, at the time Trevor was too up his own backside to care. He was young, arrogant and defiant and possibly thought he’d show them all by breaking away completely and going his own way only to find later he’d not been as successful or as impressive as he’d once anticipated.”

  “Came back with his tail between his legs?” April said, almost in a whisper.

  “Came back to put his tail between someone else’s was more my line of thought, April. Back to cause trouble. So, if we were to go back to the beginning of this conversation, Lilith. Why would Trevor call her by that name? How did he know the name and if he did, was he aware of its significance?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Before they went to visit Karl, Penny had left Leonard with the gifts she and Karl had bought. She had enjoyed the day more than all the previous birthdays when they were alone. She was growing fond of Karl. His warmth and his kindness to her son helped her believe that there was still good in the world despite all the sadness she witnessed in the news and in her own life.

  The walk and the visit went well. Karl had arranged for others to be present in the conservatory and they held a small celebration. Leonard, although shy at first, soon laughed and played. He beat everyone at tiddly winks which seemed to lift his spirits more highly than she had seen for some time.

  Her evening was normal, they fed the fish to make it part of their daily routine. Leonard had his supper before going to his room. Penny settled with a book; it was one she had seen in the lounge at the retirement home. The author was new to her.

 

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