Текст книги "The Cop Killer"

Автор книги: Harry Nankin

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THE COP KILLER

Author

Harry Nankin

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The Author, a retired police officer draws on thirty years police experience and later working with legal practices to produce this exciting and very popular whodunit mystery novel.

 Two uniformed police patrol officers are found dead in their patrol car. There are no marks or signs of violence. Post mortem, examinations confirm their deaths are from natural causes. Individually The matters are closed. Over a period of months, there are further similar deaths in similar circumstances. The officers serving in different forces are seemingly unknown to each other.

The local area Government Inspector of Constabulary hears of the deaths during his annual inspections. He becomes suspicious and informs the Home Secretary

 Due to the circumstances in the current climate of financial cuts, no official enquiry can be set into motion. It is decided to instruct Jack the Hat Richards a retired and experienced detective from New Scotland Yard to investigate the circumstances and report his findings at the annual conference of the country’s top police officers.

Richards is of the old type of detective, he is a quiet man very methodical, some have said he is boring. In reality unlike modern policing he has great attention to detail as he sifts the clues and evidence, but more. He possesses that now long lost skill of investigators to look into the minds of his suspects and never misses a clue or a trick of his target.

He agrees to return to duty, but this does not go down well with the local police. Jack is refused access to the police station and to an experienced detective to assist him. He is instructed to work from the local police museum with the assistance of an inexperienced policewoman Inspector. She is fresh from university and is the subject of ridicule by her senior officers and subordinates

The two set to work to investigate, painstakingly looking into each of the cases. Jack calls on his old forensic and pathology contacts to assist him.

All this skill and patience finally brings remarkable and surprising results.

I invite you to sit back and join Jack the Hat to resolve the never before known cases of The Cop Killer.

The events, places and characters in this book are fictitious and it is not intended the story should bear any resemblance to reality in the police service or any incident or of any person living or dead. If so, this is coincidental. Thank you for reading.

All Books are Copyright of   Bill Williams

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner

 

PART ONE

TWO DEAD COPS

 

Looking at his watch it was just after 9am on this very pleasant Friday morning, “Blast” he thought, “I am late again; I hope no one has nicked my spot. It will be a mammoth job to find another so lucrative, what a start to the day, still, it was Friday the 13th”.

Ted Salmon looked into his rear view mirror. There was no sign of any cops, so he pressed down his right foot and old Bessie moved on with a rapid response, though the caravan was swaying a little. He had second thoughts “better be safe than sorry, tipping the bloody old girl over was the last thing he wanted, oh well nearly there, “oh shit” he thought as he rounded the bend.

He saw the lay-by directly in front of him, the very location for truckers to stop for a mid morning drink, having probably missed their early breakfasts. “Still”, he thought, “I should make up for it at lunch time. Ted Salmon and his fishy fries and steak pies were now well known”.

“On Christ, what now?”

As he pulled onto the lay-by, there in front of him was a bloody cop car, at best it would be free bacon sandwiches and coffee, still it was better than being moved on, “if only he had bought that bloody licence”, he thought.

He stopped and only then realised with his mind wandering that he had not heard the blasting of the police car siren, nor, the blue flashing lights. A bit odd he thought, still, not unknown the cops often waited for wide loads in this lay-by due to its length and width.

He parked up, left his car and jumped out, unsteadily, since he had put on the last stone in weight. He opened up the food caravan, “Jesus that siren is loud”.

“Ah, just in time here comes a “Chester Trucks” known as the slow coach lorry, 40 miles per hour no matter the weather the journey or anything between”.

The driver, Eric Rawlings was soon approaching, a tall thin man, “one would never guess he was a trucker living on roadside food”, thought Ted, still business was business.

Christ the items were not even on, never mind cooked, “ah” he thought, “Last night’s leftovers, they will soon warm up in the microwave”.

“Hi Ted,” said the driver, “what the fuck is all the noise from the cop car?”

“I have no idea it was like that when I arrived ten minutes ago, you can always go and ask the bastards to turn it off”.

“Not likely Ted, I know what I would like to tell or do for them”.

“Now, now, here is your usual a sausage sarney with brown sauce and a mug of coffee”.

“Thanks Ted”.

“Come to think of it Eric, it is strange, the only way is to go and offer them something for nothing, it usually works with the cops”.

Eric laughed though couldn’t speak as his mouth was full of bread and sausage and the brown sauce was already dripping from his chin onto his now just as brown shirt collar.

“Shit”, said Ted “I will go and see what these cops are playing at; it will be worth a couple of freebees to get some peace and quiet”.

“Not forgetting the longer they are here the more likely drivers especially dodgy foreign drivers were likely to drive on by”.

He stopped at the front passenger’s door of the immaculate white police car and it’s mass of red and yellow stripes.  He could see cops inside they were looking straight ahead, he tapped on the window there was no response, and so he banged harder, still nothing.

 

The noise was so loud no wonder; he took a deep breath, opened the front passenger door and tapped the seated officer on the shoulder. Once touched he slumped forward falling onto the dashboard. As his head hit the dashboard, his face turned to the left and Ted could see the fixed glaze in both eyes.  He looked up and across at the driver who was strapped in.  There was no need to touch him; the fixed glazed eyes and open mouth said it all.

Neither looking nor investigating any further he left, slamming the door shut as he ran back with all haste.

“What the fuck is the matter?” said Eric.

“They are both dead”.

“Who is dead, Ted?”

“The two fucking cops in the car. They are both as dead as door nails”.

“Jesus I am out of here, I don’t want any bother with this shit, any time soon this place will be crawling with cops, in two shakes of a ducks arse the law will be everywhere”.

With that Eric turned and ran, scrambling at top speed into his lorry and was away.

This caused Ted to think as he was now desperately attempting to get his mobile phone out of his ever increasingly tight pocket.

“That bastard Eric, he was soon off, the forty miles per hour limit didn’t seem to matter now and the shit bag didn’t even pay for his sarney and coffee.

He finally managed to press the nine buttons two or three times, he could not recall which, there was no need to bother for a voice instantly said.

“Emergency, which service please, police, fire, ambulance?”

“Police and ambulance”, blurted out Ted.

       In the next instant another female voice but much deeper, came on the line.

“Police, is this life and death”? Said the police operator.

“Death”, it is death, your death,” shouted Ted.

“I beg your pardon you do appreciate who you are speaking to” Said the woman on the other end of the call and obviously agitated

Then demanded, “Give me your name?”

“”My name is Ted Salmon I am on the lay-by on the A41 at Broxton, there are two dead cops in a patrol car can’t you hear the bloody siren?”

Momentarily there was silence, then, a male voice came on

“This is Inspector Shannon, please repeat your message?”

Ted ever more trembling replied “I am parked with my meals van on the A41 in the large lay-by near Broxton there is a police patrol car parked here the lights are all on and the siren is sounding; both the cops inside are dead”.

“Keep calm Ted help is on its way. Stay at the scene, do not touch anything".

“Don’t worry there is no chance of that”.

 “Chester control to Juliet X-ray 52 receiving over?"

“Juliet X-ray, receiving, go ahead. Over”.

“Juliet X-ray 52 code red, I repeat code red, A41 Broxton report of two officers found dead in patrol car, person reporting is Mr Ted Salmon, owner of a meals van, he is remaining at the scene. Ambulance is being called”.

“Juliet X-ray 52 to Chester control Red call received we are on our way, I seem to recall it was Bob Friday and Sid Upton covering that area”.

“Affirmative”, replied the control operator adding “I confirm there is no reply to calls to their vehicle, be sure to update immediately on arrival”.

“Will co”

“Ambulance emergency”.

“Ah yes, this is Inspector Shannon of the Cheshire Constabulary control room, we have a report that two of our officers are dead in a patrol car on the lay-by on the A41 road near Broxton. We have despatched a mobile would you please respond?” A code red, please.

“Hello, Sir I confirm a full response unit is being despatched as I speak”

The patrol car touching 90mph was only minutes before it reached the lay-by but it seemed an eternity to the two young officers Constables Joe Grimshaw and Alex Gilbert inside.

Both officers were out of the vehicle and reaching inside the patrol car on the lay-by and soon confirmed it was Bob Friday and Sid Upton and although they had, no medical qualifications save for the basic first aid certificate, it was clear both their colleagues were dead.

A further siren was now clearly heard and a look confirmed the word Paramedic Response Unit, which also came to an abrupt halt.

Joe switched off the siren and lights on the police car leaving the paramedics to do their work.

Alex meanwhile was calling in that they had arrived and informed control there was no sign of this Ted Salmon or his meals van.

“Inspector Shannon here, forget Salmon, update us as soon as the paramedics report, did you see any immediate sign of violence?”

“Sir, from Constable Grimshaw no sign of anything untoward looks as if they both just fell asleep”.

“Excuse me officer”. Said Jim Edwards, one of the paramedics

“To be frank, if there had not been two of them and they were not fit and healthy cops, I would swear they both died of a heart attack, certainly no immediate signs of foul play.

We will take them to the hospital mortuary if you wish, as they haven’t officially been certificated dead, we can still take them and get the hospital doctor to certify”.

“Control from Constable Grimshaw, ambulance medics have confirmed it appears no foul play, it will have to be checked out of course, they are offering to remove the bodies for certification at the hospital.”

“Inspector Shannon here, yes, let the ambulance crew take the officers to hospital you remain at the scene to await a scenes of crime photographer, just in case. I will also arrange for the vehicle to be sheeted and removed on a trailer, again just in case”.

“Will do”, replied officer Grimshaw, adding “What about Salmon?”

“Forget him, it’s in hand”.

Both officers stood by at the scene whilst their dead colleagues were removed by the ambulance crew, it would only be moments before scenes of crime arrived and the traffic department Land Rover and trailer, but it would seem hours.

“That bastard Salmon, leaving them”, said Joe.

“I am sure we will meet up with him before long, oh I don’t see Shannon leaving it at that”, replied Alex.

Speeding along the side roads deep into Cheshire Ted Salmon was wondering if his panic was the correct thing to do, after all he had given his name if not his address.

It was only moments when his wandering mind was brought to reality.

“Attention, attention you in the meals van, this is the police helicopter flying above you, pull into the side immediately”.

With that, before he could look up, Ted saw the helicopter hovering in front of him, then more or less instantly two men dressed in black jumped from it, in spite of his panic he could clearly see both officers were not only armed with what appeared to be rifles but they were pointing them at him”.

At any moment he anticipated the white round light flashing on his chest reminiscent of all those Hollywood movies he had seen, never thinking one day he would be the target.

He stopped and the next thing he heard

“Driver, leave your vehicle hold you hands in the air”

He did exactly, as he was told.

“Now walk four steps from your vehicle and lie face down on the floor, arms and legs spread apart.

He responded exactly as he was instructed thinking how foolish he had been driving off and how wise old Eric had been scampering away at once.

He didn’t have much time to ponder for in a moment there were two armed officers standing over him one with a rifle pointing at him and about 3 inches from his head, a boot on his neck.

The other officer was now placing handcuffs on his wrists both arms then unceremoniously forced them behind his back.

He was lifted and semi carried, dragged call it what you may to the waiting helicopter and unceremoniously thrown inside. He was sure he heard the pilot calling in.

“We got this bastard on board sir, bringing him in, who is the custody sergeant today?

 “Tom Striker”, came the reply

“Ideal” was the reply to that.

“Who the hell, Tom Striker” was he had no idea, in moments they were airborne and his wonderings would soon be answered.

Arriving at the car park of Chester City Police Station the chopper came to a stop though its rota blades still continued to rotate at that the same steady pace and the whirling and wind almost blew Ted Salmon off his feet as he was unceremoniously assisted to the ground.

A uniformed sergeant arrived and took hold of Ted from the officer in the helicopter. The officers called out something, which Ted had not the slightest idea what it was, due to deafening noise and swirling wind.

It appeared to make little difference for in moment, the helicopter rose and was away and poor Ted still in a daze was ushered through various doors inside the building.

Interview room was the first thing he recalled seeing and once inside the Sergeant who so far had not spoken removed the handcuffs.

Ted could see the name badge “”Sergeant Striker, Custody Officer”.

“Sit there you bastard” were the first words Striker spoke. “You shit head” were the next.

“What have I done wrong?” Were Ted’s initial words, “Why have I been arrested?” his second.

Neither of which were answered.

The door opened a young constable arrived and stood by the door but did not speak.

“Now you sit your arse down there Mr Salmon until you are needed”, said Striker, “You Constable Ross, stand there watch him, but don’t speak to him, don’t give him anything and don’t let him do anything, clear enough?”

“Yes Sergeant”, came the reply.

Striker left the room, the officer simply stood there like a robot as he had been directed to do.

At Chester, emergency hospital Doctor Khan the casualty officer, fresh from India was reading when the door opened and staff Nurse Vera Johnson arrived.

“Doctor would you please come and just certify these two bodies?".

“Yes oh, Velly Well” and he rose and followed the nurse through the casualty department and outside the front door.

“Where we go naase,” he asked in his broken English.

“Into this ambulance, with arriving dead cases the doctors certify inside the ambulance”

“Oh I see, Velly well”

The two mounted the steps leading into the rear of the ambulance and Khan was immediately taken aback for there in front of him lay two uniformed police officers.

He hesitated for a moment

Sally spoke first, “Yes it is unusual doctor, the first time I ever recall two such young police officers ever being found dead”.

“It looks like natural causes, a heart attack,” replied Sid Rowlands the paramedic.

Khan did not speak, but he produced his stethoscope, and then proceeded to drop it on the floor forcing him to bend to retrieve it.

This invoked every confidence of those present as to his lack of professional ability. He opened the officer’s tunics and shirts and then felt the neck of each one.

He raised his head and said

“Well they are both dead that is for sure, I can’t see any marks of violence and their faces look at peace, yes it might well be just two coincidental deaths but I never heard of such a case, no indeed. I will fill in the death certificates as natural causes but it is strange, very strange”.

“Oh well doctor”, interrupted Sally, “you can’t complete any form just certify death, in the UK here it will have to be reported to the Coroner and there will have to be a post mortem”.

“I see” said Khan “in India if we had post mortem for every sudden death the pathologists would be working twenty fours hours seven days a week”; He laughed and left the vehicle.

“We will take the bodies to the mortuary Sister, will you notify the police of the up date”, said Jim Edwards appearing not to pleased at the flippant remarks of Doctor Khan when dealing with two fellow emergency service workers and two men so young at that, still he thought just the standard the NHS is getting these days.

“I will phone the police headquarters and update them”, replied Sally as she also left.

She went inside reached for her phone and looking on her desk pad soon found the number of the police headquarters, why she had the need to look always mystified her for over the years the number of times she had telephoned. It was mostly on Saturday nights during the drunks and yobs celebrating hours. She should know the number off pat, and she did, but still looked.

“Police headquarters can I help you?”

“Yes this is Sister Sally Johnson, Chester Hospital. Just to let you know we have received the two dead police officers”.

“The doctor has certified death, there doesn’t appear to be any injuries and it does look like natural causes”.

“Both bodies have been placed in the mortuary by the paramedics I presume you will be sending someone to continue the matter?”

“Yes, thank you sister someone will be along shortly, thank once again Sister”.

PART TWO

 

THE NEW ARRIVALS

 

She had parked her car walked across the square and was amused by the numbers of buskers there were in such a small area, fiddlers, saxophone players and singers of worsening degrees. She entered the city police station and approached the desk staffed by a rather chubby woman displaying a badge, “Ethel Counter Clerk”.

“Hello” she said with a smile “are you the new lady Inspector we have all heard so much about?”

“Famous already “thought the new arrival, “Now I wonder why that would be?"

“Come through” said Ethel now sporting a mug of tea or coffee in one hand and holding up the counter hatch with the other.

“I am very pleased you have arrived at long last, I hope you can brew tea?”

The new arrival appeared not to hear the comment for her eyes were transfixed on the tall, slim sergeant she could see standing in an office marked Inspector.

She arrived, knocked on the door causing the Sergeant and the Chief Superintendent from the crown and chevron on his shoulder seated at the desk to look up.

“Ah yes, Miss Ling it appears, the new shift Inspector, I am Chief Superintendent Craig Denton-Smyth, this is Sergeant Tom Striker”.

Striker nodded his head, did not speak but winked at the Chief Super and left the room giving the new arrival a snigger as he looked up closing the door.

“Ah, now then Inspector Doris Scott-Ling”.

He hesitated, looked at her, then down at the file on the desk, it was open, clearly, he had been referring to it when speaking to Striker.

“You have finally arrived and on Friday the 13th very apt I think”

“Ah”, he continued, “mixed race are we?”

“Yes sir, my father is Chinese my mother is white stock Welsh from North Wales, is that a problem for you?”

“No, no, Ling, just watch your tone I am just about to ask you something operationally useful, do you speak the lingo, which would be very useful here?”

“I speaky English, Cantonese fluently and Welsh a little.”

“Um we are a clever one, but you may not know, yet, but Chester is frequented by thousands of tourists each year many are Chinese, you know, armed with their cameras, you likey picture takey”, which caused him to burst out laughing.

He composed himself and saw her staring face, though she said nothing after her first rebuke, her time would come she thought.

“I have checked your file and was just saying to Striker”

“So he had either discussed or worse shown her personal file to or with Striker, way out of line from her understanding of Police Regulations

“By the way your father, he doesn’t own businesses here in Chester does he, you know the usual takeaway places that give us so much bloody hassle”.

“No sir, he doesn’t” she replied.

“What then?” he asked, looking up.

“He owns British China Aero Industries,” she said

“You mean the new international company which manufactures rocket engines”.

Before she answered, he said, “Come to think of it there was a big thing in the press recently, of the new Pandas donated to the Zoo here, he gave those I take it?” He exclaimed

She answered, “Yes that one. Don’t worry he doesn’t live in Chester city centre, he lives in Goldstone Mansion, aptly near Chester zoo” she replied with an inward smile and thought. “He gets on well with the Pandas and of course the monkeys”

 He looked into the file again and then with a smile said

“I see you were privately educated”, mumbling “you would be”

“You obtained straight “A”s in what I still call your “O” levels and “A” levels, then went to Manchester University and obtained a degree in law, Oh very impressive an honours, oh I see”.

She made no comment.

He turned over a page, looked up once again and said, “You joined the police a year ago on the new Government direct management entrant scheme”.

“You attended a six-month basic training programme with the Metropolitan Police then a further six months at the Police College at Bramshill, successfully completing the junior command course, all very impressive”.

“Thank you sir”, she replied

“No practical police experience though have, we?” He said and smiled with a hint of sarcasm.

She had no opportunity to reply for he spoke yet again.

“I will make it plain Miss Ling, when the Chief-Constable spoke with me and told me you had applied to transfer here on leaving Bramshill I was to be frank not very happy about it.”

“This is a very busy place; we have thousands of tourists here in the day. I agree your knowledge of the Chinese lingo will help, but there are often demonstrations here and on race days there are thousands more drunken bums coming to the races most of them bloody Scousers or bums from Manchester.”

  “The officers here are very busy and can well do without having to chaperon another woman about especially an Inspector who should be leading.”

“Still I can’t do anything about it.  You will be wise to stay close to Sergeant Striker, a very experienced officer, take all your guidance from him.”

“I will be keeping in close contact with him to see how you are performing. Right that is it. Welcome, now if you wouldn’t mind going and making me a cup of coffee that would be appreciated, oh bring it upstairs to my office, that’s it Ling”.

She had remained silent though noted every word he had said and the manner in which he had said the abusive and disrespectful phrases.

Showing her personal file to an officer junior in rank, telling her to make the drink.  He had not she thought asked her to sit in her own office. Who was this, Denton-Smyth”?

 “Well” she thought, “he was not a gentleman”.

Having left “her office” she walked down the corridor and the first door on the left was marked sergeants’ office but it was empty.  She could hear voices lower down the corridor, this was marked parade room.

It was large, contained a long desk littered with papers and cups. There was a lectern at one end upon which was a thick file marked briefing.

There were numerous lockers around the walls many were damaged and the doors bent, some doors were open, some closed. The remaining wall had a large notice board again untidy but one notice was more prominent than the rest it advertised the annual police ball.

“Ah Ling”, it was Striker, “I take it he asked you to make him a drink, whilst you are at it you can take these cups, wash them and make us all a drink?”

“When you have done that I will show you round the place, off you go now, Chop, Chop, oops I didn’t mean that”.

It was not the time and place she judged, to cause a war with Striker, especially with the attitude of the Chief Super.

It would be a decision and or judgement she would come to regret.

She collected the cups went to the kitchen down the corridor, washed them then, boiled the kettle.  Pride of place would be the drink for the boss, there was a mug, it must be his for it was embossed “Leader of Men”.

She made the drink as directed, then looked around her, all was clear, she spat in the drink and it was only moments before she was standing outside the office signed “Chief Superintendent”.

She knocked, waited and there came the word “Enter”, it was abruptly called. She opened the door.

“Ah Ling, and the drink, good girl".

As she walked across the room it was contemporarily furnished no different than any other modern office, there were two photographs of her leader positioned on his desk, pride of place.

She instantly recognised the scenes in the background, Bramshill College.

She bent to place the mug on the table and noticed the inscriptions on the photographs, Bramshill, Junior and Intermediate special entry, command courses.

She thought, recalling what he had said of her lack of experience, he was also a hypocrite.

She thought he had some pride for she could see he was in the process of cleaning a pair shoes, black in colour but polished to an immaculate state, obviously used on his police ceremonial duties she thought, a man prepared to impress his seniors, well she had similar clean shoes also.

She walked to the door when he called “Oh, by the way Ling”.

“Yes Sir” she replied

“You know how to make coffee; best cup I ever had, make sure every one you make for me is done the same way”.

“I will sir; you can count on that, every cup”.

She left the room went downstairs and on entering the parade room Striker was inside drinking his coffee, on this occasion there were two uniformed constables in the room.

“Smith and Rogers meet your new shift Inspector Scott-Ling, we will refer to her as Ling, and we have no time here for bullshit double barrelled names eh Ling.”

Before a word could be spoken Striker called, “You know what they say about these double barrelled names, they were originally given to bastards, the parents not being married, their kids carried both the family names of the mother and bloke named as the father”.

They all laughed including another two a sergeant and constable who had walked in but said nothing.

“Right Ling, you come with Sergeant Striker me sowey you around the station, jump lively girl”.

She consoled herself to keep a low profile and learn what she could from this load of what appeared to be bigoted, racist bums no better than the race goers he had mentioned.

She had not gone more than three steps when Striker called,

“Ling a job for you?"

She stopped turned and returned, “yes Sergeant”.

“Ah, the chief has just telephoned down a job for you, two of our lads were found dead in their patrol car earlier today. The Chief Super wants you to visit the wives or should I say widows and break the news”.

“Will he be coming”?

“Seems not Ling, it’s down to good old Miss you, or can’t you manage it”.

She took a deep breath “I will do it of course but I would have thought being the Divisional Commander he would have at least come”.

“Mine or yours is not to reason why, just do the bloody jobs”.

”Yes of course” she replied.

“Here are their addresses,” he said, “I presume you can drive we don’t have anyone to spare to take you”.

She took the keys and his note with the addresses he had written down.

“Just tell them their husbands have been found dead in the car, no suspicious circumstances at the moment, the PM`s are to be done shortly, a woman pathologist so any result might rear its ugly head”.

“A shit job” she thought “but it had to be done”.

She put on the satellite navigation, typed in the first address but then a second glance showed that the addresses were next to each other.

“Very unusual” she thought two police officers not only working together doubled crewed on traffic but lived next to each. Still, it would make the job simpler from that point of view the only good thing in the dreadful task, her first day on duty.

Striker meanwhile returned to the custody suite and once inside interview room three he looked at the officer still standing guard, still not speaking, Striker nodded to him and the officer left.

Without warning Striker leaned over Ted Salmon and grabbed him, lifted him up then dragged him to the rear wall holding him tight against it.

Two short blows to the stomach caused Ted to sink to the floor, completely winded so that he could not speak.

Striker bent down and shouted in his ear, “You bastard left two coppers in the car, a star witness at that”.

Ted recovered and whispered “Why have I been arrested I didn’t do anything”.

“Didn’t do anything you bastard, you won’t be doing anything from now on.”

“You haven’t been arrested, you have voluntarily come here as a star witness to help, what have you done?”

“I have come as a volunteer Sergeant to help you”.

Striker smiled lifted up Ted banged him down on the same chair at the table and said.