Текст книги "The Cop Killer"

Автор книги: Harry Nankin

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

They pulled up outside the club, there were numerous cars already parked, he noted the several personalised number plates and two in particular were very familiar being in the same road as where they lived. Anne noticed it to, pointed, but then didn’t speak.

“I won’t be long,” he said as he left the car and within moments arrived in the room containing the enquiry desk.

The room was divided into two parts by a bookshelf down the centre.

Having entered, he looked up saw a notice, which said group enquiries this was on the left of the book display; there was another on the right announcing enquiries.  Not knowing which way to go he sauntered forward.

The lady on the desk was speaking on the telephone, saw him arrive so put up a hand holding a pen in a “please wait, I won’t be long, stance”.

He looked at her, a lady in her late forties, possibly early fifties, long nose, with reading glasses on the end, typical he thought, bullshit only moments away.  She was sporting a name badge Primrose Pym, “yes” he thought “she was definitely going to be a Primrose Pym”, once he heard those familiar words in the conversation she was having, “I say, rather ooff, quite, quite”. He was not to be disappointed.

Having replaced the telephone on its handset she hesitated, looked at him, adjusted her spectacles then said, “I say do you wish to speak with me?"

“Ah yes” he said and was about to step further forward and utter another word when her hand went up once again to stop him advancing.

She then smiled and said, “The queuing is done the other side you have to join the queue, and you must take your turn”.

He hesitated then leaned forward looking to the left then at her and said “But there is no one here, just you and I, there is no queue”.

“Never the less you must go that side if you wish to speak with me”.

He looked and repeated, “But there is no one here”

“Other side” she repeated.

He turned went back to the door, around the corner and walked along the row of books and stopped.

When he arrived Miss Pym, he guessed she was a Miss not only from her attitude but she was wearing no rings, which did not surprise him now.

He stepped forward and spoke “I have called to enquire about becoming a member”

“A member” she said looking him up and down, repeating “a member”.  “You can’t walk in here and become a member; heavens forbid this is not some municipal golf club, good gracious no"

“How do I join then?” he asked.

“Sponsors man, sponsors, one has to have sponsors two at the very least”.

“Oh thank you,” he said, realising his golfing dreams were going in the same direction as his hopes of growing begonias.

When all hopes of having a local round of golf were fading, by almighty providence a voice sounded.

“Hello Jack”

He turned it was none other than his old colleague Christian Woodcock.

“Hello Christian whatever are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

Christian spoke again but did not answer his question; he turned to the man with him and said

“May I introduce you to Miles Ridwell, Chief Constable of the Cheshire Constabulary, this Miles is no less a man than Jack Richards, the best detective NSY ever had.”

“Please to meet you Miles”, replied Jack

“Likewise” said Miles”.

“Well now Jack we can catch up later. Are you a member here?"

“He was making an enquiry” interrupted Primrose, “I was telling him he requires sponsors and there is a waiting list even then”.

“Ah well now Jack that won’t be a problem you can count on me and you will give support won’t you Miles”, he said patting Miles on the back.

“Yes, Yes, of course,” said Miles, giving Jack the impression he wasn’t so sure

“What are you doing in this neck of the woods then Jack”? Asked Christian.

“I have just retired, it was the wife’s idea she wanted to be near her sister, a recent widow she lives not far away, and you Christian what is your excuse for leaving the great metropolis”.

“I retired as Chief of Thames Valley and was made up to HMI; this is my area so it was convenient to move up here. Well old chap I must get on we are booked in, I will contact you about the membership”.

With that he and Miles were gone, leaving Jack to bid Miss Pym a very good day, he hesitated then asked

“Excuse me, a question?”

“Yes?” she exclaimed

“Have you ever worked for the local council?” He enquired.

“Why yes” she replied, “Why do you ask?” She replied.

“I could tell by the efficient manner you have”

“Thank you” she replied

“Do you know the most dreaded words in the English language?” He asked.

“What may they be?” Was her next reply

“I work for the council and I am here to help you, when you hear those words you know you are in trouble”.

She looked aggressive but made no reply

He smiled and on leaving, parted a final shot, “The rule of going that side of the book stand when there is no one else here, typical council bullshit”, he said, took off his hat bowed and left.

When he had, gone Miss Pym looked him up and down and mumbled to herself “What a rude and coarse man, expecting to join.”

“Here and now like some municipal club”.

“I don’t see him getting in; I will check him out anyway, what was the name on his blazer?”

 “Farnham” and she made a note of it.

He arrived in the car, a Skoda.

 Anne had noticed several members arriving and on seeing the car took a closer look at the make badge, then smiled shook their heads as they spoke with each other as they left their BMW cars.

 One car was a white Rolls no less, and better it was the one he had seen some time ago only then it had been covered in manure gifted by a rare breed of farmer who could lip read, this caused him to giggle to himself.

The happy couple drove away into the sunshine his belief was that he would never see the first green of that club.

At Chester police station things were getting hectic, information had been received that there was to be a large demonstration in the city centre against cuts to the NHS.

“Ling” said Striker “I don’t want you meandering around the centre on your own with this demo coming off”.

“We will have enough to do without having to keep an eye on you, if you have some paper work to do keep on with that otherwise take out the probationer and have a walk down by the river side”.

“There is some sort of boat trial going on; a police presence there wouldn’t go a miss.

“Very well Sergeant” she replied

“Oh” he called as he left the parade room for his office, “get the pot on, the usual good brew and take the Chief Super one up, he’s just arrived in a bloody foul mood I don’t know why”.

“Yes Sergeant, very well” she said.

She knew she was not doing very well and ought to put Striker in his place, but with the same attitude from the Chief Super, it seemed likely it would make things worse.

 Worse was what she thought when she arrived in the kitchen and whilst pondering on the situation another insult was added to injury when Ethel the counter clerk arrived

“I say don’t forget me when you make the brews. What a blessing it is for you to arrive, to make the tea and do odd jobs”.

“Thank you” replied Doris

She had been startled and spilled some hot water; she was obliged to remove her tunic to dry off the wet area with a kitchen cloth.

When she looked up she saw Ethel staring at her bare arms and the tattoo on the inside of each arm, but nothing was said.

 After a few moments the tea was made, “You are such a nice quiet girl, not like the last woman Inspector we had a real battle axe. It was like world war two between her and Striker it if hadn’t been for the Chief I think Striker would have been long gone.”

That told her a lot, it seems Striker and the Chief were hand in glove, to quote a phrase, she thought she might try and contact her lady predecessor and discuss things.

“Oh I forgot” said Ethel “coming back to your tea making your reputation is going before you, may I ask if you would be sure to make mine just as you make it for the Sarge and the boss, they sing your praises over your tea making”.

“Ethel it will be my pleasure, your tea will be made exactly like theirs”.

She smiled having prepared the tea, this time in a pot and then dropped her additive into the mixture making sure they would all sample the same brew.

Ethel went downstairs to await its arrival she took the packet of biscuits from the side of the table, with her.

Doris first of all went upstairs and knocked on the door of Chief Superintendent Craig Denton-Smyth, she could see the letters QPM just waiting to be imprinted on the door.

She knocked and received the immediate response “Enter”.

She went inside and saw her boss seated, he was reading, he looked up, smiled and said

“Ah Ling with my tea, another great brew I hope?”

“Well I made it the same way,” she answered, very respectfully.

“I see”, replied the boss, “ keeping out of harms way I take it, oh try to keep an eye on things that are happening, try to get some practical experience. Striker is a mine of information and experience, I myself even use him”.

“I am certainly watching and noting everything he does sir”.

“Fine that is fine”. He replied.

She saw the highly polished shoes on the floor, “heavens” she thought, there on the floor where he normally keeps his pride of place footwear there was trace of mud on the carpet, she must have a word, seemingly, he must have trodden in something, God how she hoped it was dog shit.

She thought she had better have a word with May Day the cleaner; better get her to move it even though it was only a small amount of mess. I wouldn’t like him to get that back on his shoes” Then she thought, “shit why bother?”

On his desk, she saw a catalogue from the world famous Saville Row tailors Jacob and Co; her father used the same company.

It appeared her boss must have his uniforms made privately, no wonder he always looked so immaculate.

She guessed he had something coming off, shoes being prepared, his stick polished and now the hand made woollen uniform to add to those he already had, and of course, no one else did, they were far too expensive.

It seems he was set to impress someone, bullshit always baffles brains she thought.

She then kicked herself as she realised it was the funerals of Bob Friday and Sid Upton, officers she never knew but like the rest would attend the funeral, so would the Chief-Constable and the newly appointed Police Commissioner.

It was clear now why the Chief Super was gathering his finery.

She closed the door to his office as she left and ran down the stairs.

The tea made not only for the obnoxious but also for the minions.

When she arrived, Ethel was whispering that the new lady Inspector was literally covered in tattoos.

 “I think she has them everywhere,” said Ethel excitedly realising she had pleased the officers with her gossip, the more they imagined the better they enjoyed it and the more Ethel felt praised.

“Any on her boobs and arse?” Said Striker, “no wonder the Chief Super gets the first cup of tea.”

Doris realised over hearing the malicious talk “that would be her next burden to carry, but such is life” she thought, “the chance of any of them investigating to reveal anything further was non existent”.

It was the funeral today of Bob Friday and Sid Upton sad affairs from all accounts.

“Ah Ling” said Striker “You will be aware of the funerals today, we are all going, but you stay here in command so to speak.”

“Officers from the next door force in Shropshire will arrive to keep things ticking over to allow all us to attend; you didn’t know them so you can stay behind”.

She smiled and said, “Would you like more tea Sarge?”

“Ah yes I will, you do make a special brew”.

She poured out the tea at the table on the side of the room and quietly dropped a further sample of saliva into the cup, walked over and handed it to him then smiled as he nodded his approval after taking the first sip.

Doris later stopped Ethel in the corridor, “Why did you tell them all those lies about me?”

“What lies would that be?” replied Ethel.

“You know full well, the tattoos, a complete set of lies”

“Well not really”, came back Ethel, “I saw one on your arm so made it more interesting and flowered it up, they like thinking of the boobs and bums bit, they are men”.

“I am not much pleased Ethel, every man and his dog will know of your ridiculous story by the end of the day.”

“It was only a joke,” replied Ethel as she walked off.

Over the coming days, there were other solemn ceremonies as the other dead officers in the other forces were put to rest.

 None of the officers or the circumstances or causes of death being known to each of the other forces or those involved.

They were all laid to rest, the ceremonies although unrelated of course still followed similar lines, as the police forces recalled their military type days.

Guards of honour, helmets, caps and flags on coffins, officers lining the routes, salutes and orations of how popular all the officers were and their good conduct and devotion to duty

The official enquiries all closed due to the cases being natural causes, the families left to mourn and pick up the remnants of their lives, it was business as usual in the various police forces and stations.

In Tarporley life continued in the same mundane way, Jack the hat and the lovely Anne now had the house straight. No greenhouse in which to play, no golf club he could go to, none of his neighbours who were golfers had invited him to a round or two even though he had left his golf clubs outside in open view, not as a reminder of course.

Life was spent walking, shopping in Chester and for a little variety the occasional foray into Manchester and visiting the village coffee shop.  They sat alone but did take some pleasure from overhearing the various tittle-tattle passing between the various Cheshire ladies and groups, designer spectacles secured with gold chains fitted on the ends of noses, for better effect.

 Taking small sips of their morning coffee and just as small mouthfuls of the various cakes and fancies advertised as home made but clearly bought in.

Most of the conversations about other members who did not happen to be present on that particular morning.

The Richards couple became known as “those people from down the road or the other side of the street”, who continued to drink tea at mid morning rather than coffee, and continued to refuse food except for one day when Jack struck back.

They arrived, it was 11am precisely, the room was more or less full, it being hair perm Friday so the salon was fully booked.

 Jack from his many years, as a detective dealing with all manner of crime was still very observant.

On this particular day on entering the café he saw Girda, she was alone, he seized the opportunity and asked

“Oh could we please have two slices of the carrot cake?”

Girda looked up in amazement and was so taken aback to please her boss.

All in the hope of not only continuing to work at the establishment but to stay in the UK and later to bring as many relatives as possible to this new found land of the free.

 Not freedom of liberty, but freedom to claim unlimited medical care and state benefits including family allowances for children back home that did not exist.

Girda hastily reached for the serving knife and two plates. Jack seized on the opportunity, Anne began to smile she knew his game.

“We will have those two pieces at the front please?" he said.

 Girda took them placing them on the tray and then made the drinks, picked up the tray and was about to leave, saying

“You two, you do go, I bring to table”.

Just at the critical moment, Mrs Delwright appeared, and immediately she saw the two missing pieces of carrot cake from the front of the plate.

She was about to speak when seeing the missing items but she hesitated and having thought better of it did not speak but looked with a grimace and took a deep breath.

Anne and Jack were seated and he enjoyed the carrot cake.

 Anne commented, “Jack you are a one, how naughty of you”.

 He smiled with a grin of victory.

Things were not so good behind the counter when Girda arrived back with a smile announcing, “The new people had actually bought something to eat”.

“You gave them the two pieces from the front of the plate Girda, you must take more care” said Mrs Delwright

“I don’t understand,” asked Girda with a look of mystery upon her face”.

Mrs Delwright took another deep breath and whispered, though Jack still had the ears of an investigative detective and heard her next words.

“Girda I always put two large pieces at the front of the plate with smaller ones at the back, in this way customers are tempted to buy but they receive a smaller piece, so I get at least one portion extra per plated cake”.

“Oh I see” apologised Girda, “that man he must see, him very crafty, I think”.

“Yes a bloody copper they tell me, what else can you expect?” She blurted.

The tragedy continued for Mrs Delwright as Jack ate his slice of cake but only took one bite out of the other and left it, but continued to hold his fork on the plate to prevent its removal, normally done in quick time.

Anne never ate bought cake; the uneaten cake thought Mrs Delwright was a bad advert.

The session over both the new comers left for a walk around the village.

When they were just outside the door, they met Miss Pym from the golf club she looked but did not speak. Once inside she sat between the two tables of Yuppie ladies, took off her large rimmed hat put down her bag and spoke.

“Heavens did you see those new comers?” He is a common policeman you know”.

There was a laugh and Angela Garbet wife of the golf club president said, “we know them, well of them rather”.

“I say,” Said Miss Pym “you may never believe this but the fellow had the cheek to arrive at the club some days ago seeking to be a member”.

“Really” replied Angela, “I hope you put them off my hubby would not be so pleased at such common folk being members”.

Primrose smiled and replied “I put him off alright in no uncertain terms, there were two members arrive you know the two high ranking officers I can’t recall their names I think one was pigeon or similar”.

“You mean Woodcock Miss Pym”. The voice was that of Dino Garbet, business tycoon and president of the Tarporley Golf Club. He had called as arranged to collect his lovely bride Angela.

“Yes, do you realise Mr Garbet, that fellow, he stated he was a member of some club at a place in the south of England Farrington or similar”

“Do you mean Farnham?” Replied Dino

“Yes that is it Farnham” replied Primrose

Taking his mobile phone from his pocket, he asked

“What was this fellow’s name Miss Pym?”

“Richards, Jack Richards a common name for a common man, ah, ah”.

Checking his contacts list he found Farnham Golf Club, he dialled the number, awaiting a reply he mumbled, “Farnham I seem to recall is a quite a good club, very good in fact, holds championship tournaments if my memory is correct, lets see if they know him

“Hello Farnham, who is that please?”

“Grace who, Grace Wetherington.  Hello Grace this is Dino Garbet President of the exclusive Tarporley Golf Club and Spa at Tarporley in Cheshire.”

“I was wondering if you could recall a man named Jack Richards, a common name I know, I am told here he is a common man”.  He laughed

A voice could be heard on the other end of the call,

“Yes” he replied, “indeed, well I never, is that a fact?" Good gracious. Well thank you” and the call was ended.

He looked up at the waiting ladies and eventually spoke

“Well Miss Pym you certainly performed a wonderful favour for the club when you put off this Richards fellow”.

“I knew it, I knew it” she exclaimed.

“Update us then Dino,” said Angela

“According to Grace Wetherington on the desk at Farnham, our Mr Richards is just about the best amateur golfer they had.  In fact when he left he was made a life member”.

There was silence

“Further than that he appears to have very good contacts, it seems he knows most of the Ryder Cup team members from both sides.”

“He managed I gather to have gathered a vast amount of sponsorship and the professionals of both teams regularly play there.”

“According to the Wetherington woman this Richards set the club on the international stage, and you Miss Pym turned him away and more than that from what you admit saying you were bloody well down right rude, what a cock up, come Angela let us go before I really blow my top”.

He got up and both left, leaving all eyes staring at Miss Pym who was looking up seemingly hoping that the Lord or the Clingons would beam her up,

PART FIVE

 

THE END OF THE BEGINNING

 

It had been an exhausting two days for Chief-Constable Winston Myers of the North Wales Police, the inspection of the force by Her Majesty’s Inspector of Constabulary for the region, Christian Woodcock, QPM had been searching and thorough.

“Well Myers, your Force is doing well; you are making a good job handling the cuts in your budget, very well done man”.

“Thank you Sir”, replied Myers, with a sigh of relief.

 “I presume you will be giving Wrexham a satisfactory report to the Home Secretary?”

“Indeed I will Myers, indeed I will, I say it was a bad thing those two officers in the Met getting killed on duty yesterday”

“Yes, it’s always a tragedy when young serving men and women get killed in the line of duty. We had a tragedy here some short time ago though nothing criminal of course”.

“Really, what was that?” Asked Woodcock

“A young officer just simply found dead whilst on duty, a young fit man, suddenly found dead, the post mortem showed it was this adult sudden death syndrome the heart simply stops.”

“Very sad”, said Myers, “oh by the way I will be recommending you for the Queens Police Medal in the next honours list”.

“Well thank you Sir, Mrs Myers will be very pleased”.

Arriving outside, Sid Watkiss, known as “bad eye Watkiss” for whilst he was a serving officer when anything happened he never saw anything. Now the current driver of the HMI he opened the door and saluted as his boss arrived and got into the car.

In a moment they were gone another inspection done.

In Tarporley, Jack the Hat had finally arranged his study room to what he thought was an ideal office to write his book. Furniture and desk, reading lamp all ideally placed.

He had stocked up with computer printer cartridges, pens, paper and notebooks.  The dictation machine was fine; he just needed back up batteries.

Having sat for some time and made notes of several cases he thought would be of interest to the possibly thousands if not millions of readers just waiting to pay the grand sum of £2 to read his forth coming master piece.

He smiled, from what he had read there were thousands of budding writers just like him all hoping to become an Ian Rankin, even better, have Hollywood producers clamouring to hand over millions of dollars for the rights to make a film or television series of this new found author’s work.

He had spent a few days writing when Anne came in with a glass of sherry, Crofts Original, of course, “here is the mail Jack” she said.

She waved one in particular; he took it and saw the envelope headed Tarporley Golf and Spa Club”.

He opened the letter, smiled and then read it aloud.

Dear Mr Richards,

I believe there has been a recent misunderstanding when you attended reception to enquire on becoming a member of this club. I am pleased to announce that you are cordially invited to become a full member. In view of the misunderstanding, the managing committee have decided to offer you membership for one year free of charge. We look forward to receiving you in early course Signed

Dino Garbet

President

“Well so old Woodcock did have some pull, seems he and the chief whatever his name was have managed to swing it for you Jack”, said Anne.

“It seems a little quick, I wonder,” he thought, “still never look a gift horse in the mouth” he thought and said “ I will give it a try next week.

“Don’t be so suspicious Jack” she said and left him to ponder.

The following Wednesday morning Jack arrived at Tarporley Golf Club, when he arrived he saw Miss Prim, she looked up as he entered and walked in, he was about to veer to the left, when she smiled and said

“Oh Mr Richards please come straight down, the forms are ready, all you have to do is sign, you are most welcome”.

“What a change of attitude” he thought.

Woodcock and Ridwell certainly did the trick.

He signed in and then returned to his car collected his clubs, then made his way to the members lounge. The way things were going he would find no problem finding a partner.

Miles away in the county of Shropshire Jack’s old friend Christian Woodcock did not have golf on his mind for he had just completed another two day inspection, on this occasion of the Shropshire Police.

Chief Constable Alex Renton QPM received no criticism during the Inspector’s travels around the force so felt all was well with no complaints.

Arriving at headquarters HMI Woodcock stopped and viewed the tablet being erected by a workman.

“Had an officer killed Renton?” He asked adding, “I don’t recall hearing or seeing anything of it”.

“No sir, it’s a tablet paid for by the staff to honour a young officer, a dog handler who recently died on duty at Church Stretton”.

“I know the place,” replied Woodcock.

“The Long Mynd”.

“Yes that’s it Sir, a young officer, Constable Gerald Cheshire, suddenly and inexplicably was found dead in his dog van.  A strange case, a fit young man just had a heart wobbler and died, natural causes no inquest but strange”.

“Yes it was” replied the HMI and then walked on and into the Chief’s office.

“Not too bad Alex but there are one or two items with which I am not very impressed with.”

This caused the Chief to stop in his tracks, a wink was as good as nod in these matters, it appeared the visitor was not very pleased.

In the office, HMI Woodcock confirmed he was happy generally but did raise the following points and added.

“I will name them”.

 “I am concerned with the system of having only one beat officer in each town whilst the remaining officers have been renamed response officers.  This meant they are remaining sitting in the police stations all day long if they had no calls as was often the case in small towns during week days and early evening”.

“Secondly” he went on “Officers to whom I have spoken failed to name any local officials even the local vicar and worse any members of the public. They in turned failed to name even one officer save for a police woman who patrolled the odd day in the town”.

“I understand, complaints have been made of officers locking themselves away in police stations and were failing to answer the door when members of the public arrived.”

 “One officer had admitted being stationed in the small town for five years and never once had he walked a single street in the town.  This was bad use of resources and must change”.

He added, “I thought police stations were built to lock up criminals not the officers?”

“Finally Alex, appreciating officers were often very busy I feel it is quite reasonable to expect all officers to patrol on foot on the occasions when they had no calls.”

As a result I will make a note of this in my report to the Home Secretary.”

“ I hope if I have need to visit a manned police station in Shropshire in future the door will not be locked or if it is, those inside will open it to ascertain what I want, if not you will hear from me before the next inspection”.

“Yes Sir”, replied the deflated Chief-Constable, who thought, “just as well I received my QPM from the last HMI”.

Outside, both men saluted, Woodcock climbed into his car and called

“Drive on Watkiss”

Bad eye Watkiss replied “Pity about the young copper dying Sir, that’s two” said Watkiss.

“Yes Sid, it is. Rare events though, I admit it is strange, still, natural causes and there is no connection with the Shropshire and North Wales cases, just a coincidence”.

The following weekend at Tarporley Golf course Woodcock and Chief Ridwell of the Cheshire Police had enjoyed a very pleasant early morning round of golf and were seated just finishing the last of their morning coffee before it was time to return home to take the ladies out for the day.

Miles Ridwell sighed, it was Chester races and he was due to attend with some complimentary tickets he had received. His close friend and head of Cheshire Council Rupert Everett and his wife Fiona were to accompany Mavis and himself.

“Regretfully we have to attend some charity event before we attend the races, you know what ladies are,” he said

Woodcock nodding for he had not yet known what his fate was for the remainder of the day. It was likely to be costly.

“I say Miles, whilst carrying out the last set of Force Inspections I heard in passing the tragic cases of some young fit and seemingly perfectly well officers being found dead, yes very surprising.”

“Nothing criminal of course the post mortems revealed natural causes and not connected, two different forces, but strange”.

“Not as strange as the case I just had” said Miles

“Oh what was that?” asked Woodcock

“I had to face a double funeral when two of my officers were found dead in their patrol car, just as your cases, nothing criminal, natural causes a heart thing, as far as I can recall now, a lot of water has gone under the bridge since”.

“I mention it as being a one up on yours; in my case two officers were found, simply sitting in the bloody car, siren blasting and lights blazing.”

“I thought there was going to be worse when the poor fellow who found them and reported it, panicked left the scene and was nearly shot by two firearms officers in the bargain”.

“Think what shit there would have been over that now?”

The men smiled, rose for their seats and parted.

Miles arrived home a little late. His two friends, the Everett’s were waiting.

The ladies put on their large hats and fine new outfits for Ladies day at the races.

The men took their morning suits and top hats with them. It had been decided they would dress at the Force Headquarters it was all arranged with Chief Super Denton-Smyth who was also attending the races with his wife.