Christmas Killing (7 page)

Chapter Seven

The Board Meeting had been called for ten-thirty. Miss Pringle was present on site at ten. She fussed around sorting out coffee and biscuits and was there to greet everyone as they arrived. The two Foredyce family members were there first and stood muttering out of her earshot. She was frustrated by this and desperately wanted to know what they were saying. She was interrupted by two more people arriving and they were followed by a further three.

‘I hope this isn’t going to take long,’ said Mr Green. ‘It’s my golf morning and I don’t want to miss it entirely.’

‘It’ll take as long as it takes,’ was Mr Geoffrey Foredyce’s reply. He was the executive director of the company. ‘If we’re all here now, I suggest we begin. Miss Pringle, we’d like you to stay to inform us of what you know. Oh and you can take minutes, please.’

‘Very well sir.’ Miss Pringle was relieved that she wasn’t about to be thrown out of the meeting.

‘Bit formal taking minutes isn’t it?’ asked Mr Green. He was met with a glare from Geoffrey.

‘Right,’ he began. ‘I think you’re all aware that two grisly murders have taken place in our Christmas Grotto.’ There was a murmuring round the large table. ‘The police seem to have no idea of who has committed this crime and so most people are under suspicion. Miss Pringle. Can you tell us what exactly happened during this week?’

‘Yes indeed. I have been working closely with the police and assisting them wherever possible.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m sure you have. But we need the main facts please.’

‘I’m sorry. Well, on Wednesday afternoon, the elf was thought to have gone home about four o’clock. Sadly, it turned out she’d been strangled and thrust into her locker. They have a locker to keep their clothes in, you understand. On Thursday morning, when Jimmy North ... he’s the man playing Santa, when he came in, he noticed a piece of green fabric sticking out of the elf’s locker. When he opened it, there was the poor elf, crammed in there and strangled. He couldn’t remember seeing the piece of fabric from her costume on Wednesday night.’

‘Terrible business. No suspects, you say?’ another member of the board asked.

‘Not that I’ve heard.’

‘Go on Miss Pringle,’ Geoffrey urged her.

‘Well, he went home for the rest of Thursday and came back on Friday. We found a replacement elf to work with him. She was called Matti something or other. I forget now but her father works in Goods Inwards. A reliable sort of man and when he offered his daughter might do the job, we took her on till Christmas Eve.’

‘What happened after that?’

‘It was a fairly normal day. Then on Saturday, Jimmy came in and went to the canteen, where he had a cup of tea or coffee, I don’t know which. He went to the changing room and put on his costume. I think he was a bit early for his shift actually.’

‘Yes, yes. Get on with it please.’

‘Sorry. The next thing I knew was when the elf, the replacement elf came in and started screaming that Santa was dead on the floor. I was called and went along to see what was going on. Poor Jimmy had been stabbed. You couldn’t really see it at first with him wearing his red costume. Then the police arrived and everyone was shut out of the room. They say it must be kept closed for a while and the Grotto is to be left closed for as long as necessary. There is only one more Saturday till Christmas and then we start our sale the following Monday. It’s all very upsetting.’

‘Thank you for an excellent account of the various happenings,’ said Geoffrey. She nodded. ‘What we have to decide now is what we do about this wretched Santa Claus. The Grotto being closed for a while means he’d have to sit somewhere else. Assuming we can find someone to play the part. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be the most popular role for anyone to play under the circumstances. I understand the elf has also resigned.’

‘Yes indeed. She said she wouldn’t play the part any more though I suspect it was merely her reacting to the situation. She may possibly be talked round.’

‘If we don’t have a Santa, will it make a lot of difference?’ asked Mrs Jenkins, one of the older members of the board.

‘Oh, I think so. It’s always such a big feature of Christmas at Foredyce’s.’

‘How practical would it be to place Santa somewhere else?’

‘Perhaps we could put him in the toy department somewhere. Make an alcove for him to sit in. Stick some fairy lights around and there you are.’

‘Perhaps that would be better than nothing. We still have to find someone to play the part however. Miss Pringle? Your thoughts?’

‘Leave it with me. I’ll find someone and we shall have to get another outfit. That’s not a problem.’

‘Don’t we sell Father Christmas outfits?’

‘Well yes but they are rather cheap and certainly not the best look possible,’ Miss Pringle informed them. ‘Don’t worry. I know where we can get one. Do you want me to organise another elf as well? I was thinking having two of them would make a difference.’

‘See what you can do. Meanwhile, Sidney and I will look at the toy department and see if there is a corner we can use.’

‘Anything else?’ said Mr Green. ‘Or can I go now.’

Geoffrey looked furious.

‘You’d better get off to your wretched golf. There are a couple more matters to be decided but far it be from me to keep you here unwillingly.’ Mr Green growled slightly and sat down again. He glanced at his watch. He’d missed most of the morning by now and might as well stay.

The rest of the meeting continued and eventually, began to break up. They spoke in small groups and all of them showed their deep concerns.

‘Right Sidney. Shall we go and look at the toy department?’

‘After you, boss.’ Sidney Foredyce was Geoffrey’s younger brother and was the Chief Accountant. ‘I’m not sure how vital this all is, you know.’

‘You can’t have Christmas without Santa, now can you?’

‘Perhaps we’re about to find out. Come on then, brother. Let’s go look and see if there’s somewhere to put a new Santa.’

As they came out of the Board Room, they met DCI Jones, who stopped them.

‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘May I have a few words with you?’

‘We’re just going to the toy department to see if there’s somewhere the new Father Christmas can sit. I gather you’re the policeman in charge of things here?’

‘Indeed yes. Detective Chief Inspector Jones.’ He produced his warrant card to show them. ‘And you are?’

‘Geoffrey Foredyce and this my brother, Sydney. I’m the Chief Executive and Sydney here is the Chief Accountant. How can we help?’

‘First I must apologise for having to close your Grotto. I realise it must be of great inconvenience to you. However, a couple of days and you can probably use it again.’

‘Well, if we can take out the large chair and move that at least, it will be a great help.’

‘I’ll need to see if the SOCO team, the Scene of Crime Officers, have finished with it. If not, then I’m afraid it will have to remain where it is.’ He asked them a few more standard questions, deciding they didn’t have much information to help. ‘Thank you sirs. Can we have a list of Board members please? We’d better check all of them before we’re done.’

‘Ask Miss Pringle. She’ll have all the information you need. Tell her I’ve authorised it.’

‘Thank you.’ DCI Jones didn’t like to say that he was entitled to all information, whether Mr Geoffrey Foredyce authorised it or not.

The two men left the detective and went along to the toy department. They wandered round it, looking for a place where Santa could be seated.

‘I can see why the Grotto was built in the clothes department. There really isn’t anywhere we can put it here, is there?’ Geoffrey was disappointed. ‘You know something? I hate bloody Christmas. It just causes a whole load of extra work.’

‘And a whole load of extra profits. Don’t forget that. Without the extra at this time of year, it would be a pretty poor show. Let’s just hope they’ll have finished with the Grotto sooner than they say. We’ll have to keep on at them to see if they’ll clear off sooner than they hope.’

‘And now it’s snowing, just to add to the fun. We must make sure the sledges and other snow stuff is brought forward.’

‘There you are. More money in the bank for Foredyce’s.’

‘Do you think we should cancel the staff party for Christmas Eve?’ asked Sydney. It was the custom to give all the staff a few drinks and nibbles after the store closed at one o'clock on Christmas Eve. It was usually a jolly sort of affair with prizes given to best performing staff over the year.

‘I’m really not sure. It’ll be quite a while after these murders have died down. I think it might cheer folks up at bit before Christmas. No, I think we should go ahead with it, unless there’s anything else awful happens of course.’

‘Whatever else could happen?’

‘That I do not know. But Miss Pringle would never forgive us. It’s the highlight of the year for her.’

‘You’re probably right.’

‘I’d better go back home now or I’ll be in trouble. The in-laws are over for Sunday lunch.’

‘Good luck buddy boy.’

‘Thanks. I’ll need it.’

Chapter Eight

The two detectives went back to the station soon after the Board Meeting broke up.

‘We still need to interview the delightful Kevin. Not an interview I relish very much.’

‘Let’s hope he’s a bit more amenable today. Do you think he could have done it? Either of the murders?’

‘I did think he was in the clear but now I’m not so sure. He doesn’t have an alibi now we know he definitely wasn’t nicking phones with his mates. He may have insisted he’d never visited this store but I somehow doubt that. I bet he did come to see where his girlfriend worked.’

‘Let’s get him into the interview room. See what he has to say.’ Ted went off to collect Kevin and Ray went to the interview room.

‘Sit down over there,’ Ray told him. ‘Interview started at two-fifteen, Sunday, thirteenth December, twenty fifteen. Detective Sergeant Ted Wilkes and Detective Chief Inspector Ray Jones present along with, give your name please.’

‘Kevin. Kevin Riley.’

‘Now then Kevin. Where were you on Wednesday afternoon. That is, December ninth.’ He looked away. ‘Come on. You said you were with your mates, nicking phones. You weren’t though, were you?’

‘If you say so.’

‘So, where were you?’

‘At ‘ome. Me Mum’ll say I was.’

‘Yes, I’m sure she would. Especially if you primed her to.’

‘Whatcha mean?’

‘Never mind. Come on now. Tell me where you were.’

‘No comment.’

‘Don’t start that line with me. I shall get very angry.’

‘No comment.’

‘Do you really want a solicitor? This is serious case, you realise.’

‘No co... yea. All right. Get me one.’

‘Do you know who is the duty solicitor?’ he asked Ted.

‘I’ll go and ask. It might take him a while to get here.’

‘In that case, I’m stopping this interview. Interview suspended at two-thirty-five.’ This was for the benefit of the recording machines.

Ted went along to the desk to ask for a solicitor.

‘I’ll call him now. It’ll take half an hour or so before he’ll get here. Who’s it for?’

‘Kevin Riley.’

‘Oh dear. Does that mean he’s guilty?’

‘I really don’t know. Maybe. Maybe he’s just getting a bit scared.’

The officer’s phone rang. He answered it and called Ted back.

‘Will you speak to Kevin’s brother? He sounds rather upset. His name’s Malcolm.’

‘Okay. Give me the phone. Hallo? Mr Riley? This is Detective Sergeant Wilkes. How can I help?’

‘Have you still got my brother there?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Can I speak to him?’

‘I’m sorry but no. He’s under investigation at this moment.’

‘I’ll under investigate him. Little bastard. He’s left my place in a tip and has drunk most of what was left in the place.’ Ted gave a grin.

‘I understand your anguish sir. We had to collect him from your house this morning. He was there with a group of friends.’

‘Friends be damned. I’ll bloody kill him. When can I see him?’

‘I’m not sure sir. It depends on whether we charge him or not.’

‘When will you know?’

‘I’m not sure, sir. We can give you a call when we’ve finished with him. Later this evening, if that helps.’

‘I suppose so. My number is 07932 687045.’ Ted wrote it down.

‘Right you are sir.’

‘Thanks. Tell him I’m not ‘appy with him. Tell ‘im that. Little bastard.’

‘Right sir. Thanks for your call.’

‘Yer. Right,’ he said as he hung up the phone.

Ted went back into the interview room, where Ray and Kevin were sitting in stony silence.

‘The solicitor will be here in half an hour or so. Shall we take him back to his cell, sir?’

‘Might as well.’

‘Oh yes, your brother rang.’ A look of alarm crossed his face. ‘He’s very annoyed with you. He says you drank all his beer and generally made a mess.’

‘Yer, well that was your fault. If you ‘adn’t turned up and dragged me out, I’d have cleared up and he’d never ‘ave known. I’d probably have bought some more beer too.’

‘That’s right sonny, put the blame on someone else. I suppose it was down to us that you called your mates round in the first place was it? Come on. Back to your cell.’

‘It’s perishin’ cold in there. Can I ‘ave a blanket? An’ I need the bog.’

‘Yes, well you can go in there. Can you get him a blanket Ted?’

The Detective Sergeant nodded as he escorted Kevin back to his cell. He picked up a blanket from the store cupboard and handed it to him.

‘A thank you wouldn’t go amiss.’ The young man scowled at him and turned his back. Ted locked the door of the cell and went back to the staff room. ‘So, what do you think Gov?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s capable of actually killing anyone. I think the fact he’s asked for a solicitor is just delaying tactics rather than guilt.’

‘Maybe. But who else could be guilty?’

‘I really don’t know. Perhaps there’s someone else we haven’t yet spoken to. My theory of someone who was sacked and wanted to damage the business of Foredyce’s, might carry some weight. We’ll go and see Miss Pringle again. She’s sure to know. That name ... Pringle. Drives me nuts. I used to have a teacher called Pringle at primary school. I wonder if she’s related? She could be. Same narrow little mouth and same sort of attitude to life.’

‘Couldn’t be her daughter if she was a Miss,’ Ted announced with a smile.

‘She was Mrs Pringle. Shouldn’t think she’s still alive. Perhaps I’ll ask our Miss P when we see her again. Now where’s this damned solicitor?’

A couple of hours later, the solicitor convinced them that they didn’t have enough evidence to charge Kevin and so they were forced to let him go.

‘Your brother wants to see you,’ Ted informed him. ‘I said I’d ring him when you were ready to go.’

‘Don’ bovver. I don’ wanna see ‘im.’ He pulled up his hood and disappeared through the door and scuttled off down the street.

‘Back to square one,’ Ted said.

‘You get off now Ted. Spend some time with your family. I’ll stay on for a while and re-read the details of what we know so far.’

‘That shouldn’t take you long. Bugger all seems to be about it.’

‘Go on with you. Night.’

There was only a skeleton staff on duty on this cold winter’s evening. Ray shivered and went to make himself a coffee. He sat down at his desk and looked at the pile of papers. The interviews conducted by the staff and those he and Ted had done. He read the report from Jimmy North’s off-spring and saw nothing suspicious. No contacts and no reason he’d been chosen by the murderer. There was nothing much to indicate anyone in particular. He hesitated over the two girls who shared Julie’s flat. Daphne had seemed very upset, while Marie had taken it all much more calmly. Did this indicate anything? He pushed the records aside. He was clutching at straws. It was somewhat disconcerting to think about. An hour later and no further forward, he rose from his desk, switched off the light and left his office. He didn’t want to go home to an empty flat and took himself to the local pub. There he met up with one of his colleagues from the uniform department and went to sit with him.

‘You on your own too?’ he asked.

‘The wife’s gone to visit her parents. She’ll be back tomorrow but I thought I might as well come and get a bite to eat here. Don’t see much of you these days, now you’re upstairs among the gods.’

‘Hardly up with the gods. How’s it going in your world?’

‘Oh nothing out of the ordinary. But you, well you’ve got two murders haven’t you?’

‘Two murders and no suspects. There must be about fifty folks working in the store and every one of them has got an alibi.’

‘Go on with you. There must be one who’s under suspicion. Haven’t you got a nice butler of someone who could have done it?’

‘No butlers, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh dear. I’ll go and grab a couple of menus, shall I?’

‘Thanks. And get us a couple of halves while you’re there. Here you are,’ he said pulling out a fiver and handing it to his friend.

‘I’ll get them.’

‘No, it’s all right. Here, take this.’ He came back moments later and plonked down the beer.

‘Think I’ll go for a steak pie. Haven’t really eaten much today. In fact, come to think about it, I rarely do eat very much. It’ll be nice to have a decent meal.’

‘Think I’ll join you.’

‘I’ll go and order, shall I?’ He went to the bar and ordered two pies.

‘Chips or new potatoes?’ asked the barman.

‘Chips on both please.’

‘Right you are. It’ll take a few minutes.’

‘Okay. We’re over there.’

‘Not a problem.’

‘It’ll be a while,’ Ray told his colleague as he sat down again. ‘Oh, I ordered chips with the pie. Hope that’s ok?’

‘Sounds perfect. I’m not allowed chips at home so it’ll be an extra treat. Do you want to tell me about your case? Might help to talk it through with an outsider. Well, one who’s sort of in the ring.’

‘Not a lot I can say. The main suspect we’ve just had to let go. Nothing to keep him there. Evidencewise, anyway. God I hate those sort of terms. What am I doing using them?’

‘Nobody from the store and what about flatmates or family?’

‘Not really. It’s bugging me. In the words of the late Santa, who’d want to kill an elf? And now he’s gone too.’

‘Sounds like someone doesn’t like Christmas very much. Or wants to get at Foredyce’s.’

They chatted on for a while and talked about anything but the case.

‘Oh, here comes our food. My, that looks wonderful,’ he exclaimed as the waitress brought two large plates and set them down before the two men.

‘Cutlery’s over on the side and salt and pepper and stuff.’

‘Thanks. I’ll go and get some.’

‘So, no wife at home waiting for you?’ asked Charlie, the colleague.

‘My wife died a few years ago. Never have time to look for anyone else. Not that I’d really want anyone in my life.’

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

‘You said the store you’re involved with is Foredyce’s?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Why?’

‘I was thinking back. It must be a couple of years ago now, we were investigating various nefarious goings on. Stuff had gone missing and they suspected a chap working in the ... what did they call it? ...Goods Reception or something.’

‘Really? It wasn’t Bert something or other?’

‘I think that was the name. Slightly dodgy character, or so we all thought. Nothing proved of course. He seemed to have got away with it, if he was guilty, that is.’

‘I interviewed him the other day. I discounted him from the murders but I’ll certainly take another look at him. Thanks for the tip off, anyway. He does seem a bit of a dodgy character.’

‘Not as bad as his brother. He used to work there too. Awful chap. Dickie Pryce. That’s it. Bert Pryce.’

‘So what happened to him?’

‘He was sacked. He was nicking stuff and saying it hadn’t arrived. We caught him out one day and charged him. Think he was serving time ... well I know he was. He must be out again by now, come to think about it. Blimey, how time flies. It must have been about four years ago.’

‘Worth following up anyway.’

It was a reasonably companionable evening and the two arranged to meet up again after Christmas.

‘Right, I think I’m about done. I’ll go and pay up and then I’ll be off.’

‘Hang on, I’ll pay for mine. How much was it?’

‘Don’t worry. Your turn next time. It’s been nice chatting.’

Ray left the pub and walked the rest of the way home. He hadn’t drunk much but it was a short journey and the cold air refreshed his tired mind. He could collect his car the next morning.

He went home to his flat. It was his great loss when his wife had contracted breast cancer and being unwilling to seek help soon enough, she had died. He had stayed in their marital home for a few months but decided it was all too painful and he bought a reasonably modern flat and moved there. He’d been there for the past few years and was resigned to being a permanent bachelor. At least he no longer had to excuse himself for being late home.

He poured himself a large scotch and settled down to watch some garbage on television. Needless to say, he fell asleep and woke some time later, wondering where on earth he was.

The next morning, he went to look at the old records. The archives were kept down in the basement, where Sam Smythe looked after them meticulously.

‘Now, what exactly do you want?’ Sam asked.

‘The file you must have lurking somewhere on Dickie Pryce. He was done for stealing stuff from Foredyce’s about four years ago.’

‘Oh dear, now you’re asking. Four years ago you say.’ This was his usual ploy, suggesting it was a difficult, almost impossible job but he’d do his best. ‘You’re gonna wait there? It could take some time. I could send it up to you when I’ve found it, always assuming I can find it.’