Текст книги "The Cop Killer"

Автор книги: Harry Nankin

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

PART ELEVEN

 

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

 

The house seemed so quiet without Anne. A check of the deep freezer and refrigerator by lonesome Jack discovered an ample supply of items from which he was certain he could prepare sufficient make shift meals for some days.

Monday 8am, the sound of a car horn and a look through the lounge window revealed a car stationary outside. It took a second look to realise it was Doris, who having stopped, tooted the horn but having received no response she had left the vehicle and was walking down the path towards the front door.

It was the make and colour of the car a pink Ferrari that had put him off recognising who was waiting; one had to take more care since the axe affair.

He opened the door, as Doris was about to knock.

“Sorry” he said, “I hadn’t realised it was you, have you changed your car?”

“Yes” she replied, “It was my birthday whilst I was away, when I arrived back home Daddy had given me this new car”. There is worse, my brother; Edward has bought me a personalised number plate”.

“Oh, I see, what is it DORI5 for Doris?” He asked.

“I am afraid not, worse, I have one brother who is a monk and another who is a monkey, wait until you see what he has done to me, the boys at the nick including Sergeant Tom Striker will have a field day with me.”

Jack pressed the burglar alarm button to set the system then secured the front door and they walked off to the car which as he drew closer he could see was definitely a sports model, Ferrari.

“It was indeed a very nice and expensive car,” thought Jack, a ride of a lifetime he thought.

As they arrived at the vehicle, he looked and then frowned but she could see he had a sneaky smile at the index number it was PEN15 the five had been slightly altered so that the number read PENIS,

“You are correct in your assumption you will to quote a rather common phrase, get some stick”. He said.

They were seated and the car shot off, as it did so he could see the various heads turn from the Cheshire neighbours as the car drove by, worse, as they looked, it back fired with loud bangs.

 This caused them to jump out of their skins and he laughed and heaven forbid a loud breaking of wind, which nearly matched the similar noise made by the car.

“Christ" he thought, “What am I doing?”

 If Anne sees this lot my pension will be reverted to alimony payments?”

They arrived in Chester to the odd car horn blast, several thumbs up as car loads of yobs drove past, the reason being it was either because they were overtaking a Ferrari or the number plate attracted them.

Parking in the police station car park, they alighted and Jack lacking courage walked away at a brisk tempo directly into the museum, followed in close pursuit by Doris.  Several police cars were arriving, Doris realised it would not be long before the word was out.

Inside the police station Striker who was temporarily promoted to acting Inspector in the absence of the Chief Super who was now away on his Senior Command Course.

Jock Peters the Coroners officer arrived and on seeing Striker said.

“Have you seen the Ferrari in the yard and better still have you seen the number, not yours is it Acting Inspector?”

Striker looked up and replied, “Don’t come that Scotty or you will be beamed up, back to bloody Scotland where you came from”

 “It’s the idiot Ling; she was seen getting out of it”.

It didn’t take long for Striker full of jealousy to decide he would put a spanner in the works of dear Doris, what better than to botch this expensive car.

“Right lads” he said, “outside, let’s put a spanner in Ling’s wheel, get some paint ready we will give it a face lift.

Striker and two constables went outside walking near his old common Ford car. Constables Davies and Williams in hot pursuit.

They approached the Ferrari, Striker with paint and brush in hand.

Constable Williams asked, “What will you paint on it Sergeant Striker?”

He replied, “Watch it Williams, I am acting Inspector, call me sir now lad, if you know what is good for you”.

A voice coming from the direction of the car said, “What will you paint on it Sergeant Striker. Watch it Williams, I am acting Inspector, call me sir now lad if you know what is good for you?”

They stopped in amazement when a voice from the car called, “Attention, this car is a test vehicle of British China Aero industries. All images and voices of persons approaching this car are being recorded; details are stored in the company control room”.

They stopped in their tracks then turned and tip toed away as if that made any difference.

What Striker couldn’t do or get one way he would get another.

Jack was seated at his desk ready to take the next steps in the investigation. The phone rang he answered it.

“Jack Richards, can I help?”

“This is acting Inspector Striker let me speak to that bloody lunatic Ling.”

“Inspector”, called Jack, “Striker is on the line he wishes

 to speak with you”.

“I thought he wouldn’t be long”, she replied with a sigh.

“Yes sergeant, how can I help?” was her reply.

“Forget the Sergeant, Acting Inspector if you don’t mind”.

“Well, as I am a substantive Inspector, your acting rank does not hold much with me, at any rate”.

“What did you say?”

“These comments will be brought to the attention to those that matter; bare in mind whilst you are playing over there in the museum, in here is where the real police work is being done”.

“What did you want Acting Inspector Striker?" She replied to pacify him.

“That bloody car you have and in particular the number, what the hell are you playing at?”

“This is a police station, we don’t want a car with a number like that in our back yard so to speak, and of course you will not be able to use it on your enquiry, there will be hell to pay”.

He banged down the phone and Doris realised it would be only moments before Headquarters would be informed. Jack had said nothing but felt the whole thing was to be frank becoming a distraction for the task in hand.

“Ling are you there?”

It was Sergeant Reg Large the commander of the museum, she laughed to herself, “what next?”

“Yes” she called.

Get down here,” called Large, “a man giving his name as Peter alleged he is from your fathers research department at the factory he left a note for you, he said it is urgent.”

“Christ what now?” She thought.

“Better see what he wanted we have to get on with the enquiry.”

Interrupted, Jack who was now looking a little agitated.

She left the office and ran down stairs where Large was waiting envelope in hand.

She took it, turned and ran upstairs, she could see his face drop, Mr Nosey had hoped to hear of the contents, he and the others were awaiting a call from Headquarters at any moment, hopefully it would be the end of this bloody woman Inspector he thought.

Arriving inside the office, she read the note, smiled and handed it to Jack who read it and for a change, he actually gave the semblance of a smile.

The note read, “We hope you like the car and its new devices, oh the number plate it being your birthday the lads in the office made it up but things went wrong, we all forgot to tell you. We hope you didn’t get into any bother.”

“I have just visited and changed it to the one your brother had intended you to have, it is DOR15, altered a little to give the impression of DORIS.”

“The sat test voice recording equipment has also been disabled, enjoy the car, steady with the right foot or you will have the cops after you?”

 The note was signed Peter Clarke, Chief Engineer.

In a flash Doris was out of the office running downstairs and into the police station car park, Clarke had done his work the personalised number had been fitted.

“What is all this Ling?” Came the raucous voice of Tom Striker.

She looked behind her. Striker was there camera in hand, he looked saw the change of number plates and was taken aback.

  His first thought was to dash inside and call the Chief– Constables` Secretary, to get her to forget telling the Chief.

There would be a row if someone came over only to find the abusive number was gone, they may even think it had been a figment of his imagination.

She went back to the museum and on her arrival Jack was seated and obviously waiting.

“Right, Inspector, if you are ready, we will make a start?”

May arrived, brooms and brushes in hand, “I will make a drink" was her contribution to proceedings.

“Thank you May,” replied Doris.

Jack picked up the telephone and opening his briefcase took out a small book, written upon it was the word, contacts.

He dialled a number then after a few moments, he spoke.

“Hello, can I please speak with Professor Idris Webster please; yes tell him it is Jack Richards”.

There were a few moments of silence, when he continued.

“Ah Professor, yes I am officially retired but I have been called in to investigate several suspicious deaths on behalf of the Home Secretary.”

“It would be a great help if you would agree to carry out second post mortems on all five dead victims.”

“I will of course get the necessary authority; my assistant will make the arrangements.”

There was a reply and he said, “That would be great; I will send you a full report of all the circumstances and get back to you”.

He replaced the telephone handset when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in May” he called.

“How on earth did you know it was me Mr Richards?”

“I can tell your knock anywhere” he replied.

She put down the drinks and left, mumbling “Very clever man he is, he can even tell a knock”.

“”Right Inspector, I was just speaking with Professor Idris Webster from the North Wales University”.

“He is the world renowned pathologist, described as great and above all others in his field.”

“I intend to get him to carrying out post mortems on all the dead officers.”

 “May I ask you if you will go through the papers and type up a full report as to the circumstances of the cases, end the report by saying we will be attending the examinations and will give him any update at that time?”

“I will get onto that immediately” she replied, realising there was serious police work a foot, this was her chance to get involved right at the hub of a major enquiry.

“I might ask you, when done ensure the file is sent direct by secure carrier not through the post, and do four copies,” he added.

“I will,” she said.

“Now”, he said, “I need a word with May” Due to Mrs Richards being away I need more help at home.”

He left the office a search of the building revealed May had taken the opportunity to visit the police station and so off he went in search of her at the only other likely place, the police station.

 On his arrival, he asked for May being told she was upstairs cleaning.

He turned and took the lift, on arriving at the desired floor he left and saw May inside the office of Chief Super Denton-Smyth.

“Ah May a couple of favours please”.

“Oh hello again, I thought I would just give this office a bit of a tidy it is kept locked whilst the boss is away. He did say he wanted a little dusting, if he comes back and finds anything amiss there will be blood for supper”.

“I am sure he will. Well done May, you do a good job”.

“What favour can I do for you Mr Richards?”

“Well firstly I was going to ask you if you might be able to spend a few more hours at my house. Mrs Richards is away and your additional help with bed making and washing up would be gratefully accepted”, he said with a prayer.

 “Why, yes take it as done, I have a key so leave it with me Mr Richards. I will ensure everything is done right and proper, what is the other thing?” she asked

In the museum Doris was busy going through the case papers and typing up the report to Professor Webster when Jack arrived, he had been gone nearly half an hour.

 On his arrival he took out his brief case and the next, she saw he appeared to be organising the inside of it. It appeared to her they would soon be off somewhere.

He picked up the telephone and dialled a number, after a moment he spoke.

“May I please speak with Professor Simon Bolister, please, yes, it is Jack Richards of NSY fame, tell him.

“Hello Professor, yes you are correct, I am retired officially but at the request of the Home Secretary I am carrying out an enquiry into some unusual deaths of police officers”.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you might agree to assist us, that is, Inspector Scott-Ling and myself.”

There was a pause when he said, “Well thank you professor, I will get a full copy of the file over to Gooch Street Laboratory immediately by carrier”.

“I will come back to you as regards anything further as and when it occurs.”

He replaced the phone and then said.

“Inspector if you would print out four copies of the file you are typing and then get the carrier to take another copy to the Forensic Science Laboratory at Gooch Street in Birmingham marked for the personal eyes of Professor Bolister”.

“Will do sir”, she replied. He had already told her once, he was getting old she thought, starting to lose it possibly, she dare not say anything.

Jack looked up and said, “You don’t need to call me Sir”, but then added, “Mr Richards will suffice”.

This caused her to smile, bloody old CID officer’s straight-laced, miserable buggers, no sense of humour and seemingly they never change from generation to generation”.

It was certainly a morning for phone calls for when she arrived back in the office having taken the cups away he was making yet another call,

“Hello may I please speak with Mr Christian Woodcock, if you would tell him it is Jack Richards”.

“Just a moment please” came the reply.

“Hello Jack not long to go before the conference how are you progressing?”

“I am progressing well, with the help of Inspector Scott-Ling of course, progress is the reason I am calling you Christian”.

“How can I help Jack?” Replied Woodcock.

“I need to get the bodies of the dead officers exhumed and a second post mortem done. I have provisionally requested Professor Idris Webster to carry them out.

“My, Jack you have reached the top of the tree, Professor Webster no less, a very good choice”.

“I will need an exhumation order”, said Jack “can you get the go ahead from the powers to be for me to visit the Royal Courts of Justice and seek such an order from a High Court Judge?"

“Again Jack, a good decision, better to get it from a red coat judge than an order from the Home Secretary, he may get windy if you find nothing and the families cause a fuss.”

“Can you arrange everything, Christian?”

“Yes leave it with me Jack, I will call you back”.

Woodcock then asked, “Forensics, have you considered them”.

“Yes”, replied Jack, “I have asked Professor Simon Bolister from the Home Office Lab., at Gooch Street, in Birmingham to assist me, he has also agreed”.

“Again Jack a top choice. Leave this all with me I will get back to you”.

The call ended, he replaced the handset and sat back in his chair.

There was a knock on the door; it was Sergeant Reg Large,

“This despatch has just arrived for you Mr Richards”

“Ah, thank you sergeant”, he took the package and looked up to find Strutter Large was waiting with baited breath for the package to be opened, he was to be disappointed for Jack simply inserted it into his brief case.

After a moment of disappointment, Large turned and left.

“Inspector”, called Jack.

“Yes, here am I” she replied.

“Is May around, a drink wouldn’t go amiss”.

“I have thought ahead, here is one already,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Ah just the job”, he said, “Now sit down and I will update you”. He had only just finished telling her all that had occurred including the arrival and origins of the mystery despatch so eagerly wished to be viewed by Strutter, when the telephone rang.

“Hello Jack Richards here.

“Ah, Jack its Christian Woodcock, I spoke with my boss, he in turn spoke with the Home Secretary and he confirmed the plan”.

 “In addition there will be no need for you to visit London there is a High Court Judge sitting at Shrewsbury in Shropshire”.

“He is staying at the judge’s lodgings in a street called, Belmont with his wife.”

“He has agreed to see you there this evening in chambers. It will save the glare of the public at the crown. It is Judge Stevens, which I almost forgot to tell you.”

“Thank you” replied Jack he had appeared before this judge many times, with that, the call ended.

“Well Inspector some additional information, we have to travel to Shrewsbury this evening an appointment with Lord Justice Stevens. Hopefully we will get the exhumation orders and from then on it will be night work and a busy time too.”

“Right”, replied Doris, “but why night work?”

“Exhumations are normally done at night more discreet you see.”

“I would like you to make enquiries to find a suitable person with a mini digger and a large amount of discretion to carry out the work. We will require a tent of course.”

“Might suggest you contact that fellow who does our garden, Bill or Ben something or other he runs a firm called Garden Rescue. I would suggest he seems to fit the bill, not wishing to be smart, thinking of the famous flower pot men”.

“Leave it with me, I know of the fellow, I will contact him and come back to you” she replied reassuringly.

She rose from her seat and was gone leaving him alone to contemplate once again.

“Once the post mortems are done I may know more,” he thought to himself.

At 3pm later that day, they were heading south along the A41 trunk road travelling the 40 miles to the Shropshire market town of Shrewsbury, it being their second visit it was much easier to find.

 The satellite navigation easily found the town and the street known as Belmont.

 What was not easy to find was somewhere to park their car, it took some time to locate a car park.

Once found it was left to Doris to pay the exorbitant car parking fee which she thought accounted for the reason the town appeared quiet compared to Chester.

They eventually arrived once again in Belmont Street but on this occasion on foot.

It was an area similar to Chester in its features, cobbled narrow streets and ancient buildings. Arriving at the house it was easy to find, as there was a Shropshire county badge upon the house wall.

A knock on the front door was answered by a man who might have been in distance times past. He was dressed in a black suit with a ruffled frontage shirt, clearly a butler.

Doris recalled how she had once seen a film of a Charles Dickens story, A Christmas Carol that had been made in the town and the streets they had just walked through were obviously accurately portrayed in the film.

“May I please help you officer and sir?” asked the man.

“Yes you may”, replied Doris, I am Inspector Scott-Ling with Mr Jack Richards I believe we are expected by his Lordship.”

“I will enquire, please wait. Replied the man who closed the door.

Moments later it opened, the same man but on this occasion bearing a smile, “please come in,” he said. His Lordship will see you".

They went inside it was a typical Georgian town house high ceilings, a large hall with a formidable oak staircase.

There were large rooms to the left and right of the front door, easily visible, as the doors into the rooms were open.

Large portraits adorned the walls inside and up the stairway, mostly ancient judges and other county gentlemen some of whose names were familiar to Jack.

“Follow me if you please,” said the man who had not announced his identity.

He led them into a large room further along the hall and on knocking the door a voice called, “Yes Jeffries, please come in”.

 The man who had greeted them was it seemed, a Jeffries and on opening the door he intimated for them to enter, which they did.

On arrival inside the room, which was very tastefully furnished, there were large portraits of previous residents, judges, some whom Jack recognised as of great distinction.

There was a man seated at a large desk, a lady, seated by his side.

The man was dressed in a morning suit, aged at least sixty years of age he was clean-shaven, had a ruddy complexion and appeared to be on the plump side.

Just what one would imagine a High Court Judge to look like?

 Jack recognised him from the Old Bailey, though like him, the man had changed somewhat in his appearance.

The lady was younger, aged about forty, very slim, with a gaunt face her sallow complexion gave one all the hallmarks of a secretary devoted to her work. A glance at her hands revealed no rings, “yes she was a definite Miss” thought Jack.

“Please do come in. Inspector Scott-Ling I believe we have not met previously, I am Judge Stevens, and of course Jack Richards.”

“Might one venture to say, I believe you are retired, officially at any rate.”

“The very famous and respected detective, Jack the Hat. Still wearing the hat I see, it looks the same hat to”.

 He laughed as Jack who had forgotten to remove his trilby, now did so post haste.

The lady seated next to him smiled but did not speak.

“I suspect you will recall me Mr Richards, Judge Stevens?”

He turned to the lady and said, “May I introduce my Clerk, Miss Carver”.

She smiled and nodded but again did not speak.

The learned judge continued, “ May I introduce Jack Richards of New Scotland Yard fame, we have met officially of course on many occasions over many years at the Old Bailey.”

“Little if ever at the Central Criminal Court, Appeals Division an indication of how thorough your investigations are”.

The two visitors smiled, Jack spoke to say, “Thank you Sir”, and added, “Please to meet you madam, I am sure”, looking at Miss Carver.

“Now, said Judge Steven, “the Home Secretary has made it known to me you are investigating some suspicious deaths of police officers and are currently seeking exhumation orders of the remains for second post mortem medical examinations by Professor Webster no less, a good man, very good indeed, highly respected.”

“Yes My Lord,” replied Jack”

“Have you brought me the necessary documentation?” Asked the Judge.

“We have My Lord”. He looked at Doris who opened the brief case retrieved the file, stepped forward and placed it on the desk in front of his lordship.”

 Miss Carver now produced a small book and held it in the direction of Doris.

Jack leaned to Doris and whispered, “The Oath, take the Oath". He was hoping she recalled the words.

Doris met the challenge with distinction, took the bible in her right hand, raised both into the air and said. “I swear by Almighty God that the evidence which I shall give will be the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Doris Scott-Ling Police Inspector of the Cheshire Constabulary currently stationed at Chester my Lord”.

“Thank you officer” replied his Lordship.

Miss Carver put out her hand to take back the bible, placing it on the desk”.

The judge asked, “Do you produce to the court a file containing all the known facts surrounding the cases of five police officers all found dead whilst on duty?”

“I do my lord” she replied.

“Thank you both. If you would please wait outside I will peruse the evidence you have submitted and make my decision known to you shortly”.

They left the room; outside the butler was waiting and pointed for them to be seated.

It was fifteen minutes later when the door opened and Miss Carver looked out and said, “Please, come back in, his Lordship is ready".

They went back inside and stood, the judge was signing something.

After a moments hesitation he said, “ I have considered the facts of the case and I am satisfied it is in the interest of justice and further in the public interest that a second post-mortem should, in fact must, be carried out upon these deceased officers, I therefore grant the applications”

“Thank you my Lord,” replied Jack.

The judge then added, “You will appreciate of course these matters carry some risk of trauma for the loved ones of the deceased, I am sure Mr Richards with your vast experience that matters will be dealt with efficiently, respectfully and with discretion”

“They will indeed my Lord,” replied Jack. He added “and the other matter in the file Sir”.

“Ah yes, that is a little more difficult and a very unusual request but again from the evidence which you have laid before me as to the necessity of the evidence and the views of the holders of the information I agree that such information should be released to you but verification of a court order is required.”

“ I am also satisfied that normal protocol should in this instance be set aside and I do therefore grant you the additional disclosure orders you have sought”.

“Thank you” replied Jack.

“Well now officer,” said the judge closing his papers, turning to Doris “may I suggest to you, that as you appear young in service you should pay all attention to Mr Richards.”

“Over many years he has gained a vast and wide ranging knowledge of investigating serious and unusual crimes and those who commit such crime.”

 “You may recall some moments ago I mentioned I have come face to face with Jack the Hat on many occasions in the Old Bailey and other crown courts but rarely indeed, if ever in the high courts of appeal.”

“The reason is simple; Mr Richards was such a thorough investigator with intricate attention to detail and the ability to keep focused that once his investigations were completed there were little or no grounds for an accused to appeal”.

“His cases as presented were such the evidence against the accused was always conclusive it was rare if ever any legal loophole could be found.”

“I might add I cannot recall a single case or allegation of any miss-carriage of justice in any case, in which he was the investigating officer. You would fair well to learn and mirror this man”.

They remained silent, then the judge said, “Well thank you that closes proceedings”.

“Thank you Mu Ludd” replied Jack emulating the court phrase; they were about to leave when the judge called.

“Mr Richards”.

Jack turned; the Judge smiled and said, “I can’t be involved further in this case now having seen your evidence to date”

 “I am not breaking any protocols by saying that I have been honoured to be invited to this year’s annual conference of Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Constabulary and Chief Officers of Police.”

“The end for once may well prove to me more interesting than the conference,” he smiled, winked and finally looked down at his papers.

Jack turned and left the room.

They were heading out of town when Doris looked and realised that the car required fuel, in her excitement with the new vehicle she had forgotten to top it up, seeing a large filling station she pulled in and stopped.

Having completed the refill she walked to the Garage shop, there was a large notice on the door as there was on each petrol pump, which read, “Will all motor cyclists please remove their helmets and likewise those wearing hoods”.

Such a motorcyclist was entering the shop in front of her. He was wearing his helmet but could be seen to be a man, middle aged, short in stature, fat and white and obviously in rush.

As Jack sat in the car with open window he looked, never in the history of terrorism he thought had there ever been such a suicide bomber nor in fact any he had dealt with as armed robbers.

Still he thought that was the rule same for everyone and one could understand the reason for the rule.

The motorcyclist appeared exasperated and on approaching the door a voice on the loud speaker called, “Motor cyclist please remove your helmet before entering”.

The person at the desk was seated some distance away at the rear of the shop and had called further instructions, “we need to see your face for security reasons please remove your helmet”

With some difficulty, the man removed the helmet, then paid for his fuel at the next till to Doris.

Doris wearing a civilian coat over her uniform looked and asked the lady at the desk, “I can understand the rule to remove head gear but may I ask what you will do now?”

“What do you mean?” asked the assistant.

“Well” replied Doris, “look, here is a tall lady coming she is a Muslim, she is wearing religious head gear. All you can see of her face is a slit four inches wide and half an inch high, just sufficient for her to see you but you can see nothing of her, will you ask her to remove it?”

“We dare not ask them to do that, this religion race thing, I am likely to get the sack at best or prosecuted at worst if I was to ask that”.

“I see” replied Doris and turned to leave, opening the door for the entering Muslim lady.

       Doris sat in the car and was putting her things away when Jack spoke”.

“Did you notice that Muslim lady wearing the full length black clothing and a burka or some similar head wear?”

“I saw her. Why do you ask?” said Doris.

Jack pushed back his trilby into active duty mode and said, “I noted the lady appeared rather tall, her strides were long and she appeared to have fairly large feet”.

With that, before Doris could reply there was a scream from the shop.

Doris looked and realised what Jack had just said and so she ran back to the shop arriving at the door just as the lady in black was leaving.

The mystery lady was now in possession of a gun in one hand and a handful of money in the other.

“Failing to keep to the rules of saying, “Stop Police”, or even “I am a police officer”. Doris put up her knee, which connected with the villain in the solar plexus, felling the person to the ground.

In an instant, Doris was kneeling on top of the now winded villain and before a shout of Allah Ackbar could be made Doris, had the handcuffs on then slid the gun away out of harms way.

The shop alarm began to blast as Doris lifted the villain and pulled him back into the shop. Both staff were aghast with terror, as Doris called, “Don’t just stand there call the local police”.

“Yes, Yes” replied the woman assistant already dialling the number”.

Jack left the car picking up the firearm for safety reasons.

Doris removed the headgear of the villain; it was a man, very tall, well-built aged about 20 years of age and white.

At that moment, a police car went past the shop the crew in the midst of eating food they had purchased at the Super Market. They looked and turning on all emergency lights pulled onto the filling station forecourt.