Call to Arms

by Rachel Amphlett

  She choked out a laugh at the thought of Adam’s face if she suggested such a thing – he was always teasing her about her eating habits, and would be mortified if she skipped dinner.

  Her heart swelled at the thought of him, and she made a pact with herself that when the current investigation was over, she’d treat him to a weekend away.

  They had had a week in Portugal in January; a cheap package deal that he had found online. She had protested at first, until he pointed out that a change of scenery would do her good once the plaster cast was removed from her broken arm.

  They had resolved to take more holidays this coming year, and she felt her shoulders relaxing as she thought about the places they could explore.

  She had a brief respite from the rain thundering on the roof of the car as the traffic jam stopped and she found herself under the railway bridge across the A20.

  A train rumbled across, sending pigeons flapping from their roost on the bridge rafters above her head.

  She glared at them, daring them to crap on her car, but they settled without incident and the traffic moved forward.

  Her mobile phone began to ring in its holder on the dashboard, and she recognised her sister’s phone number. She flicked the switch on the steering wheel.

  ‘Hey, Abby.’

  ‘Oh my God, where are you? It sounds like you’re standing under a waterfall or something.’

  ‘I’m on my way home – it’s pouring with rain, and the traffic is terrible. How’re things with you?’

  ‘Have you spoken to Mum today?’

  Kay sat up straighter in her seat, alarm bells ringing in her head. ‘She hasn’t phoned me, no.’

  The relationship between her and her mother hadn’t improved over time. Once her mother had discovered the true effects of the aftermath of the Professional Standards investigation Kay herself had been subjected to two years ago, and the fact that Kay had miscarried and not told her parents at the time, her mother had refused to speak to her.

  Abby sniffed. ‘It’s Dad.’

  ‘What? What’s going on? Is he okay?’

  ‘They think so. He got rushed into hospital this morning with chest pains. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.’

  ‘Is he okay? Do you need me to be there?’

  ‘No, it’s okay – really. They’re putting it down to a bad case of heartburn, but they’re keeping him in overnight. Sorry if I frightened you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I just wanted to let you know in case you heard a rumour about him and panicked. You know what Aunt Liz can be like.’

  Their dad’s sister was a hypochondriac at the best of times, and if she had nothing to worry about with regard to her own health, her attention turned to her family. She could easily turn a case of bad indigestion into a quadruple bypass, given half the chance.

  ‘Just as well you got hold of me before she did.’

  ‘Yeah, look. I’ve got to go – the kids are about to start fighting. Dad will be home tomorrow night, if you want to give him a call then. I’ll be popping round there, so I’ll keep Mum busy when you phone.’

  ‘That’s great, Abby – thanks. Talk then.’

  Kay finished the call, and realised her hands were shaking.

  She indicated right off the main road, and followed the winding street through the housing estate before taking a left into the lane.

  Adam’s four-wheel-drive vehicle was parked on the gravel driveway, and she braked next to it before switching off the engine.

  She sighed with relief. She loved her job, but there were some days when she was glad to be home.

  When she pushed her key into the lock and stepped into the hallway, the first thing she noticed was the silence.

  Downstairs was in darkness, save for a light on in the kitchen.

  There were no aromas filling the house, no clang of pots and pans, nothing at all.

  Frowning, she dropped her bag onto the stairs and hurried through to the kitchen.

  Adam sat at the worktop, his head in his hands, a glass of untouched wine at his elbow.

  He’d been crying.

  ‘Adam? What on earth is the matter? What happened?’

  He lifted his head, tears rolling down his cheeks.

  ‘Rufus died this afternoon.’

  Her bottom lip quavered, and then she crossed the room to him in three strides.

  ‘He wasn’t in any pain,’ he said. ‘He just slipped away. One minute he was snoring his head off while I was reading the paper, and then I realised the room had gone silent.’ He wiped at his cheeks. ‘I always make sure I’m there for them at the end, stroking their fur or holding a paw. I wasn’t there for him.’

  ‘Oh, Adam.’

  His arms wrapped around her as she buried her head against his shoulder.

  ‘This has been the worst day ever.’

  Twenty-Nine

  A light frost covered Kay’s car when she left the house on Saturday morning, and she didn’t envy Adam having to conduct his weekly rounds of the local stable yards in the freezing weather after spending a late night liaising with the specialised pet crematorium service.

  He’d left an hour before her, and once she’d pulled on a pair of jeans and a woollen jumper, she’d swept her handbag and keys from the kitchen worktop and headed out to work, her breath fogging on the cold air.

  She was early; the upper level of the police station was in darkness when she arrived, and she spent five minutes switching on the coffee machine, her computer, and the printer and photocopier before removing her scarf. She kept her coat draped over her shoulders.

  She cursed the electrical contractors who still hadn’t fathomed the source of the problem with the central heating and air conditioning system, then wrapped her fingers around a mug of coffee and set to work.

  She bit her lip as she scrolled through the new emails that had appeared on the system since she’d left the previous night, segregated the ones she could afford to ignore for a few days, and then began to delegate tasks to the team she now led while the ghost of Jamie Ingram plagued her thoughts.

  Despite the result at charging the man who was working with him to supply drugs, she was still no closer to finding out the truth about his death, and it troubled her.

  She was missing something; there was more to the case than they’d uncovered to date, and she cursed under her breath at her ineptitude at finding the link.

  She hit “send” on the final email as Gavin pushed through the door, a takeout cup in his hand.

  ‘Morning, Kay.’ He placed a paper bag next to her elbow, the aroma of a warm croissant tickling her senses. ‘Thought you might need that, given you don’t eat breakfast.’

  ‘Hey.’ She raised her gaze to the grey light now filtering through the windows on the far side of the office, and blinked before checking her watch. ‘Hang on. What are you doing in here on a Saturday? Are you getting behind on your workload or something?’

  He grinned, opened his mouth to speak, and then turned as the door opened once more.

  Carys and Barnes appeared, the younger detective blowing on her hands as she crossed the room.

  ‘Flipping heck, it’s supposed to be warming up at this time of year.’

  Kay leaned back in her chair. ‘All right, you lot. What’s going on?’

  ‘We reckoned you wouldn’t be able to let things lie over the weekend,’ said Barnes. He smiled. ‘We know you too well.’

  ‘Yeah, so we figured we’d come and help,’ said Carys. ‘Extra pairs of eyes and all that.’

  Kay rubbed the back of her neck, some of the stress leaving her shoulders. ‘I appreciate it, really I do. I’m not going to argue – I know none of you will listen anyway if I try to make you go home. But I’m treating you all to lunch up at the White Rabbit, okay? I’m not having you work this afternoon, otherwise you’ll be exhausted when you come in on Monday.’

  ‘Yes, guv,’ said Gavin, and winked.

  She screwed up the na
pkin next to her, and threw it at him, then turned serious and rose from her chair.

  ‘Sharp’s office.’

  She waited until they had all settled, and then removed Carl Ashton’s photograph from the whiteboard and set it to one side.

  ‘All right, so after the events of yesterday, I’m satisfied that Ashton was not involved in the death of Jamie Ingram. Now we need to widen the investigation – that means re-interviewing his friends who Harrison’s team spoke to at the time of his death. Who’s got the names?’

  Carys raised her hand, and lowered her gaze to a folder in her lap before flipping it open. ‘Outside of the army, Jamie only had a couple of close friends – he had known Greg Kendrick since primary school, and apparently they used to catch the same bus to school. According to Natalie Ingram’s original statement, Kendrick stayed in touch over the years, and visited the farm from time to time in between Jamie’s deployments. A second person of interest, David Mason, lives in Canterbury and works at a large stationery warehouse. Married with two kids at the time of Jamie’s death – apparently, he and Jamie were in the Scouts together as kids and, again, stayed in touch. Debbie has already spoken to them and obtained up-to-date details.’

  ‘Good. In that case, I want you to spend the morning researching the background for these two. If you find anything – anything at all – then flag it so we can work it into our interviews with them next week.’ She checked her watch. ‘That gives us two and a half hours until lunchtime.’

  ‘How did you get on with Larch yesterday?’ said Barnes.

  Kay took a sip of her coffee and contemplated her response before answering. ‘Look, I’ll be as honest as I can. There are going to be some big changes around here over the coming weeks. It’s nothing to worry about – your roles are safe, but it does mean that we’re under pressure to solve this case as soon as possible. We have to find the buyer, and we have to find out once and for all if that person was responsible for Jamie’s death, or whether it was indeed a tragic accident.’

  The team exchanged a glance between them, before Gavin turned back to her.

  ‘Okay, what do you need from us?’

  Kay smiled. ‘Keep up the good work. We got a result yesterday – we’re halfway there. I appreciate you’re doing this in your own time, but we’ve got to keep going. We can’t give up now, or allow ourselves to become distracted.’

  Barnes raised himself from the visitor’s chair, and stretched. ‘All right, let’s get on with it. What are you going to do in the meantime?’

  ‘I’m going to speak to Michael and Bridget Ingram.’

  Thirty

  Michael Ingram was standing at the door to the farmhouse as Kay braked to a standstill and climbed from her vehicle.

  She peered over the roof, and noticed a pale blue car parked next to a small tractor, and recognised it from her visit to Natalie Stockton.

  He held out his hand as she approached, his expression resigned.

  ‘Thanks for seeing me at a weekend, I appreciate it.’

  ‘Do you have any news? Have you arrested anyone?’

  ‘Can we go inside? I see that Natalie’s car is here.’

  He nodded, and stepped back, closing the front door behind her. ‘She arrived about an hour ago with Giles and the kids.’

  On cue, a child’s excited screech reached her ears a moment before the sound of running feet from the room above.

  Michael smiled. ‘They’re staying here for the weekend – Alex and Will are always a bit over the top when they first get here. They’ll calm down in a bit.’

  ‘It must be nice to have them all around you.’

  ‘You’re right, it is. Do you want to wander through to the kitchen? You know where it is – Bridget’s in there. I’ll nip upstairs and get Natalie. Giles can keep an eye on the children while we’re talking.’

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  She waited until he had started to climb the stairs, and then made her way along the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Bridget turned from the stove as she entered and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

  ‘Morning, Detective. Michael said that you had phoned and would be calling in. Have a seat – make yourself comfortable. Cup of coffee?’

  ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’

  Kay shrugged her coat off her shoulders and hung it over the back of a chair, and then took the steaming mug from Bridget and sat down.

  A photograph album had been left open on the table, and Bridget wandered over when she noticed Kay casting her eyes over the pages.

  ‘I haven’t looked at these in an age,’ she said, spinning the album around so Kay could see better. ‘These were taken when the twins were teenagers.’

  ‘They’re younger here than in the photos Sharp has.’

  ‘Yes – his were taken on their last day of secondary school. They were fourteen when these were taken.’

  A sad smile passed the woman’s lips as she turned the page. ‘We had a record-breaking harvest that year, so it was all hands on deck. They used to get home from school at half past four, then help us in the orchards for a couple of hours before coming back inside to eat dinner and do their homework.’

  She gently ran her hand over the page, and then glanced up as Michael appeared with Natalie.

  The woman looked harassed, and took a seat opposite Kay with a loud sigh.

  ‘Do you have children, Detective?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I take it they’re excited to be here?’

  ‘Yeah. Hopefully a few hours running around in the farmyard with Dad later on will wear them out. It usually does – you can’t beat fresh air.’

  Kay waited until Michael and Bridget had joined them at the table, and then set down her mug and leaned forward.

  ‘I wanted to speak to you today and provide you with an update with regard to how our investigation is progressing.’

  ‘Have you arrested someone?’ Michael repeated.

  ‘We have, but not in relation to Jamie’s death.’ Kay gestured to Michael to stop him interrupting. ‘Sorry, bear with me. After speaking with all of you, we began our investigation by re-interviewing Jamie’s old army colleagues. I apologise – this is going to come as a shock to you, but during the course of our enquiries it transpired that Jamie was involved in smuggling drugs into the country after each deployment to Afghanistan.’

  Bridget gasped, and covered her mouth.

  ‘Drugs?’ Natalie looked from her mother to her father, and then back at Kay, her eyes wide. ‘Are you sure? Jamie would never do something like that. Where did you get that from?’

  ‘The army had started its own investigation into the smuggling activities a short time before Jamie’s death—’

  ‘Sharp never said anything,’ said Bridget. ‘All this time. He never said anything.’

  Michael reached out for his wife’s hand. ‘He spoke to me about it, after Jamie died. I didn’t want to tell either of you because I was so scared what it might do to you – the shock.’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon, we charged Jamie’s co-conspirator, a man who has since left the army,’ said Kay. ‘I wanted to tell you face to face, before the media have had a chance to get their hands on the story. I will do my best to keep Jamie’s name out of the papers, but I can’t promise anything.’

  ‘We know what the media can be like,’ said Natalie, her top lip curling. ‘We had a couple of them come around here after Jamie’s death, wanting quotes and photographs. Dad sent them packing.’

  ‘Where does that leave your investigation into Jamie’s accident?’ said Michael.

  ‘My team are currently back at the station working through the other statements that were collated at the time from Jamie’s friends. To date, we’ve been concentrating on the army connection, but it’s now time to broaden our search.’

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’ said Bridget.

  Kay tapped at the side of her coffee mug, and then met the woman’s gaze. ‘We’ve only got two names on
file that were cited at the time as being close friends with Jamie. Greg Kendrick and David Mason. Is there anyone else that we should know about? It seems strange that he only kept in contact with two school friends after joining the army.’

  ‘He was a shy boy,’ said Bridget. ‘I tried my best, really I did, but he preferred his own company. Despite being twins, he and Natalie were complete opposites.’

  ‘I’m not aware of anyone,’ said Michael. He shrugged. ‘It’s like Bridget says, Jamie was a quiet lad.’

  ‘Hang on. Wasn’t there a girl he was seeing at the pub close to the barracks?’ said Natalie.

  ‘What girl?’ Bridget turned to her daughter. ‘He never mentioned any girl to us.’

  Kay pulled out her notebook, and flicked through the pages until she found her notes from her meeting with Jamie’s ex-commanding officer. ‘How well did he know her?’

  ‘I know he mentioned buying her some diamond earrings, come to think of it.’ Natalie slumped forward and held her head in her hands. ‘My God – did he buy those with the money he was making from selling drugs?’

  ‘I can’t answer that for sure at this time,’ said Kay. ‘Do you have a name for her?’

  Natalie raised her head. ‘I can’t remember. He only mentioned her the once, before he died. I know the name of the pub though – it was The Red Lion at Deepcut.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll look into that.’

  ‘What happens now?’ said Michael.

  Kay pushed back her seat, and drained her coffee. ‘I’m heading back to the incident room now. We plan to speak with Jamie’s friends early next week, and as soon as I have any further news for you, I’ll be back in touch.’

  Bridget followed her out to the front door, and stood on the step, hugging her thick woollen cardigan across her chest. ‘My son was a good boy, Detective.’

  Kay opened her mouth to respond, but the woman shook her head, and closed the door.

  ‘Dammit.’

  Kay stomped back to her car, cursing under her breath.

  Thirty-One