“I swear this had nothing to do with us,” said the youth by the boat. “We saw the boat, so we lifted it up to see what was there. Just in case...”
He was rambling and apologetic, but Eva’s mind was already whirring. She wanted the teenager’s panicking to stop.
“It’s okay,” she said firmly. “I know you didn’t do it. I saw you find the body. Now... there are some police on the other side of the jetty. Two policewomen. Go and get them. Be discreet, be calm, don’t shout your mouth off, or there’ll be chaos. Just be calm and quiet and tell them you’re one hundred per cent serious about what you’ve found.”
The young man gulped and turned grave. “Serious,” he repeated..
Eva nodded at him as an instruction, and the young man and some of his companions tore off for the nearby pavement, their adrenaline helping them to vault over the concrete sea wall. The hawk-eyed detector men noticed and were already beginning to turn her way. The vulture-like human instinct at work.. Eva seemed to have found something of interest, and they hadn’t. They wanted a piece of the action.
“Help me keep the body covered by this boat, will you?” she said to the remaining two teenagers. They nodded dumbly and stood by as Eva started to shift the boat back into position as a shelter above the body. She hardened her voice. “Help me, will you?”
One of them snapped out of it and started to move and the other followed suit. They stared at the body as they tilted the boat and slid it back over. Eva heard their light, panicked breathing.
“What happened to him?” said one of them.
“He... I think... I think someone killed him,” said the other.
Eva didn’t say a word. She looked up and saw some of the treasure scavengers looking their way, talking with hands on hips. She met their staring eyes willing them to look elsewhere. But their gaze was fixed. It was only a matter of seconds before one of them started walking. And then they did, both at the same time. A tall, older man with wispy hair and an old-fashioned metal detector, alongside a younger nerdy type with a newer, shinier piece of kit. Eva stood up and started to move towards them, using her body to block their way. The gesture annoyed the taller man. From the look of him, Eva guessed he was the type who wasn’t going to be the one to back down. Especially not from a woman.
She glanced back across her shoulder. The PCSOs had not yet arrived and the weaker of the teens were still guarding the boat. Just. Eva stopped walking and the two men arrived before her.
“Found something, have you?” said the tall old man, a wild wisp of grey hair floating up from his scalp in the breeze.
“It’s not something you’d be interested in.”
The man gave her a cynical look and arched an eyebrow. He looked at his companion.
“It’d be good to take a look anyway, wouldn’t it?” he said.
The other man nodded.
Eva shook her head. “It’s not what you think it is. Wait. The police will be there in a second.”
“Police? It’s part of the Saxon gold, ain’t it,” said the man, almost smacking his wrinkled old lips. He started to circle around Eva, but she moved across and blocked his way.
“The whole beach is a public area,” he barked. “I’m a citizen and a resident. I can take a look if I please.”
The man smelt of sausage and onions and sweat. Eva turned her head back again to see a glimpse of a big PCSO uniform arrive at the near street corner of the marine centre. She breathed one last hint of fermented sausage and gladly stepped aside.
“If you must,” she said.
The man smiled as if he’d won the day. Eva folded her arms and walked on behind them, knowing the man’s victory would be short lived. The lumpy figure of PCSO Gill Penner stepped down to the beach, her eyes betraying her doubts as she looked at the upturned hull of the boat guarded by the teens. She saw Eva walking her way behind the two detector men. The teens led her to the boat and they pointed into the shadows beneath it.
“What is it?” called the old man, too excited to wait until he got nearer. “You found the gold, didn’t you?”
“It’s not gold,” said one of the boys, but his eyes and attention were on the big PCSO. “It’s definitely not gold.”
“Mind out of the way then,” said PCSO Penner. Her face was almost a scowl. She moved to the side of the boat and dropped to an uncomfortable crouch. She lifted her hat to get the peak out of her eyes and then she lifted the rim of the boat and looked beneath. Eva watched her eyes widen. She looked up at the boys, the old man with the wispy hair, and then at Eva. The shocked look on her face was like a cry for help. Eva nodded calmly.
“He was injured before he died, PCSO Penner. Beaten. Take a close look at his face,” said Eva.
“Oh my God,” said the old man, bending to peer beneath the hull. He froze as he saw the sand-covered feet. The younger detectorist backed away as if it would save him from the horror. PCSO Penner stood up and pulled the whole boat up and away from the sand so she could get a good look. One of the teens turned pale and jerked away. Behind her. Eva felt more people starting to gather. At the sea end of the jetty, Dan appeared with a few others who had noticed the fuss. As soon as he saw the huddle near the building, Dan started to accelerate ahead of the pack. He broke into a jog. Eva looked down at the dead man’s face. It was familiar somehow, even through the covering of sand. She squinted and racked her brains to remember why she knew that face. Carl Renton, maybe? No. She’d seen his photograph, but this guy was the wrong build, far smaller and skinny too. The dead man’s build was more like that of the men in Renton’s houses. Lithe and skeletal and small. Dan pushed through the throng until he was at Eva’s side, he saw the boat in Penner’s hand and saw the body on the sand beneath it.
“I know that guy,” said Dan.
Eva and Gill Penner looked up at him. Penner held her police radio by her mouth.
“He was the man on the Broadway,” said Dan. “Remember?”
“What man on the Broadway,” said Eva.
“When I went to buy the newspaper. This was the guy who almost threw himself in front of a bus.”
Eva’s eyes widened and Dan looked at PCSO Penner. “This afternoon, just before lunchtime. This guy walked out in front of a bus on the Leigh Broadway. He was being followed.”
It took a second before Dan’s meaning registered, then PCSO Penner pressed the button on the side of her radio transceiver. The radio crackled into life. She called it in.
“But why? Why this man?” said Eva.
Dan shook his head. He knelt down to peer at the body and saw something glinting from the sand close beside the man’s back. Something metallic. Dan stole a glance up at Eva and Penner. Penner was busy on her radio and most of the crowd seem transfixed by the dead man’s body. Dan slid his hand into the sand in one fast, fluid move. His fingers grazed a cool metal surface, finding a small cold tin. And beside it, closer to the body, his fingers scraped past a far smaller lump, one wrapped in plastic and graiins of sand. Dan snatched both items into his hand and closed his fingers around them. He flipped his hand to hide them and stepped away. He looked around but no one had seen him except Eva. The look on her face said she didn’t approve but neither was she about to complain.
Dan opened his hand and ran his finger over both pieces. The silvery tin was the eye-catching piece. The tin was old and ornate and engraved with old fashioned patterns, a style from an old era. But old as it was, there was no way it was Saxon, Celtic, or anything ancient. He decided it had to be a tobacco tin of some kind, which placed it in a far more modern era. Value wise, it was no treasure. It looked more like a charity shop curiosity than a precious item.
“What is it?” said Eva.
“A tobacco tin?” Dan rolled the other lump into his spare hand and picked at the wrapped surface. It was very well wrapped and it was hard to see what was inside.
Eva shook her head. “It’s too small for tobacco...”
“Then what is it?”
Dan
flipped the lid and found the box just as neat and shiny inside. It was well kept without a trace of dirt or old tobacco.
“An old snuff tin, maybe?” said Dan. “It’s more the size for snuff. But it’s certainly not being used for snuff anymore...” Dan smelt the tin. The only thing he smelt was the metal itself. But then he saw a trace of plastic film snagged to the inside. Clingfilm. Dan narrowed his eyes and brought the other tiny package from his pocket. He lifted it up so Eva was able to see it but shielded it from those nearby. He started to pick at the seams with a fingernail. Gradually he unwrapped it, until he found the solid white tablets at the core. Each bore the imprint of a big capital letter U.
“Ubers,” said Dan.
“And you just took them from a dead man. That’s evidence, Dan,” said Eva, quietly. Penner stopped speaking into her radio. She turned around to face the crowd. Eva kept her face blank and Dan did likewise, slipping the small silver tin and the tiny drug package into his small jeans pocket. PCSO Penner slid the dinghy back down the wall over the body to block any further rubberneckers, then used her bulky figure as a barrier, stepping around the boat towards the people nearby.
“There’s nothing to see here, folks, and more police are on their way. So please keep your distance and go about your business.”
But no one paid any attention, so Penner raised her voice. “Off you go now. Chop chop. Move along.”
The teenagers seemed more than glad of the excuse to leave, as did the first layer of nosey parkers. But Dan and Eva stayed. Their minds whirred as they took in the details of the body, the location, the clothes and shoes, recalling their briefest encounter with the dead man as he darted across the Broadway in Leigh. But what did it mean? There was no doubt in Eva’s mind that Carl Renton was in trouble, but was it possible that Renton was linked to the dead man with three Uber tablets in his pocket? It didn’t seem likely, but the Ubers made it possible. And what of the silver tin? Penner’s young PCSO colleague appeared in a hurry at the sea wall. She was a nervous looking girl with olive skin and dark hair tied up under her PCSO cap with its distinctive blue band. From past experience Eva and Dan knew PCSO Gill Penner was not the must dutiful of coppers. She had once accepted money for passing on sensitive information to a compromised council employee – but she had somehow gotten away with a mere suspension. And as they now dealt with the discovery of a likely murder, alongside Penner was the greenest PCSO in town. In terms of skills and expertise, Eva and Dan outranked them ten times over. Trouble was they didn’t have a badge or title, which meant they had precisely no influence whatsoever – and if anyone would flaunt the fact, PCSO Penner would. So they stayed back to keep her at arm’s length as they worked out their next move.
A new crowd was closing in around the boat, faces filling in the gaps left by those who had backed away.
“Tell them to back off, Kaplan,” said Penner, as she stood by the boat.
The young PCSO sighed as she looked at the crowd. Eva saw trepidation in her eyes. “Everybody,” called the girl. “Please listen.” But her voice was too soft to be heard by more than a few. Penner told her so and she tried again.
“Listen up!” she called. “Back away and give us some room. Other police will be here soon. This is a crime scene. Please step back.”
A better effort. She was louder, but her voice was still too soft. Eva felt like pitching in to help shoo the crowds away but she guessed the gesture wouldn’t have been welcomed by either woman. In the end, Eva didn’t need to do anything, as another police officer appeared. A uniformed copper with a round face, doorknob chin and bright, smarmy cold eyes.
“PC Orton,” said the new girl, looking relieved.
“Okay. Come on you lot,” said the PC, clapping his hands. “Move along, the lot of you,” he called. “This is a crime scene. Off you go now!”
The policeman didn’t have much in the way of charm, but he made up for it in decibels. The crowd started to shrink as he waved his hands at them like a farmhand with a flock of sheep. But as the more obedient treasure hunters peeled away, two men weaved through them towards the boat. Orton didn’t see them. The PC had lifted the old dinghy to get a look at the body beneath. The two men closed in purposefully. Eva watched them, the shorter, stockier man leaned in to snatch a look before the taller, thinner man behind him snuck in for a look of his own. Both men turned away looking pale and wide eyed. Eva kept her eye on them. The men looked at one another in shock.
Eva saw their flitting, fearful eyes. It wasn’t just morbid curiosity she’d seen on these men. It was something else. Eva stepped close to Dan, whispering in his ear.
“Do you see those two?”
Dan’s eyes were already on the men, absorbing the details of their pale, grainy faces, and their fraught looks. The PC finally noticed them.
“You two. Sod off,” said Orton. “This isn’t a bloody peep show, it’s a crime scene.”
Dan looked at their faces, and one of the men caught his eye.. Tall, weaselly, and dark eyed. Something about the man reminded of him of the scumbag man at the drug rehab. And that wasn’t all. For a moment, Dan couldn’t place the him. And then the penny dropped. “That guy. The taller one... he was on there on the Broadway too. He’s the guy who was following the dead man under that boat... I’m sure of it.”
Eva looked again. The two men had moved off away from the boat. They were talking, but neither of them could hear what was said. “You’re sure about that?” said Eva.
“You know I am,” said Dan. “Didn’t you see him before?”
“He was a blur. You got a better look than I did.”
“Trust me. It’s him,” said Dan.
Eva looked. “If they know something, we can’t let them get away,” she said.
Some way back, the two men stopped walking. They joined the rest of the pack, arms folded, worried looks on their faces. They were muttering something between them.
“I’d like to know who they are, what they are talking about too.”
“So long as they stay put, that shouldn’t be much of a problem,” said Dan.
He left Eva’s side and weaved between the shoulders of the people until he reached the new young PCSO. She looked at him and stood her ground.
“Step back please, sir.”
“Officer, I’m a private investigator. I’ve worked with your colleagues before. My name is Dan Bradley.” PCSO Penner saw their conversation and moved in fast.
“I know who you are,” said Gill Penner. “I know the woman you’re with as well. But this is a police matter, none of your concern.”
“My partner is the one who found the body,” said Dan.
“And like I said, it’s a police matter now,” she said, firmly. The constable noticed their minor stand-off and stepped away from the boat to face Dan himself. He looked Dan up and down with sharp eyes.
“You heard my colleague. Off you go now. We don’t need any drama here.”
“Listen to me for a second, constable,” said Dan. “See those men back there? The tall one and the stocky one. See them?” Dan nodded into the crowd, past Eva, trying not to look too obvious about it.
Orton saw the men then gave Dan a deeply sceptical eye.
“What about them?”
“I saw that tall guy following the dead man. He was after the guy in Leigh about lunchtime. The dead guy was panicking and the tall guy was after him.”
“You saw that?” said Orton.
Dan nodded. “It’s true.”
“He’s a private detective?” said Orton, looking at Penner. Penner frowned and nodded, like their presence wasn’t good news.
Dan nodded.
“Be that as it may, this is a police matter now.”
“Whatever you say, constable. But you still need to talk to those men.”
“On your say so?” said Orton.
“No, of course not. But just as a precaution, because it’s a good idea, that’s all. They acted weird when they saw the body. What if they were invo
lved in this?”
But Dan saw he was talking to a brick wall. He needed to get past the jobsworth to reach the self-interest lying just beyond.
“And think, if they are involved, you’ll have identified them in advance. It could save a lot of police time later, don’t you think?”
The man processed Dan’s words and glanced at the two men.
“I could take their names, I suppose.”
The stout PC stepped around Dan, a fresh version of the same smarmy smile on his face. Dan tagged on behind, and Eva followed suit. The PC reached the patch of sand in front of the two men and made a show of clearing his throat. From somewhere far off came the sound of police sirens. They rose and fell on their air as faint as perfume on the breeze.
“Excuse me gentlemen... but I’m told you might have known the deceased,” said the PC.
“What? Who told you that?” said the taller man.
The shorter, stockier man paused before he nodded. The guy reminded Dan of Roger Daltry from The Who. A boyish face gone craggy with age. He seemed wiser than his friend. “Yes, it’s true, Norman was a friend of ours... I can’t believe what’s happened here. How did he...?”
“That’s not for me to say, sir. Norman, you say? How exactly did you know the man?”
“He... was a friend. A colleague too. A fellow market trader. We worked on all the markets together over the years.”
Between Two Thieves Page 12
