Blood Ties (50 page)

Read Blood Ties Online

Authors: J.D. Nixon

BOOK: Blood Ties
6.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

For once, I was thinking sensibly. “Sarge, I think we need to hand this case over to the Inspector. It’s clear that there’s been some kind of fraudulent activity and we just don’t have the resources to investigate it properly, especially if Murchison doesn’t want to cooperate with us. It’s time for the detectives to take over. We need to get back to Little Town. Who knows what the Bycrafts have been up to while we’ve been gone?”

“No, Tess! It’s our investigation and we’re going to crack it. I’m not stopping now,” he insisted stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes.
Oh God, here we go again
, I thought in exasperation. I’d been lumped with Mr I-Know-Everything as a partner.

“Sarge, you’re not listening to me,” I declared, hands on my hips, head craned up the five or so inches that he was taller than me. I slowly enunciated each word, giving extra emphasis to the word ‘listening’ so that it would sink into his thick skull. “It’s time for the dees to take over.”

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Fuller,” he shot back, moving his hands to his hips as well.

We confronted each other, eyes clashing. His eyes shifted from mine to rest on my forehead stitches, my bruised nose and my busted lip before returning to my eyes. His face muscles stiffened and released, then stiffened again, his eyes turbulent. I watched him, alert and wary, willing to exploit any weakness he showed. I didn’t have to this time though, because he relented first.

“Look, if we haven’t progressed any further by the beginning of next week, we’ll hand it over to the dees then. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed after a tense silence, reminding myself a partnership involved give
and
take, and that I couldn’t expect everything to go my own way. My phone rang and I answered as we went back to the car.

“I heard on the fucking grapevine that you were skulking around town, scaring the locals with your hideous face like some sheep-shagging hillbilly Phantom of the Opera,” Fiona growled into my ear.

“I’ve never shagged a sheep in my life, ma’am,” I said honestly. The Sarge nearly gave himself whiplash turning around to stare at me in surprise at that comment, his eyebrows up in his hairline. “But otherwise your intelligence is correct.”

She laughed loudly. “That’d be right. You wouldn’t need to resort to ovine intercourse with that stallion Jake Bycraft bending you over the kitchen table every chance he got.”

“Ma’am, you’ve been peeping on me again,” I smiled and considered the idea.
Hmm, Jake, me and the kitchen table.
I’d be texting him later today with that suggestion, to be sure.

“Tessie, I’m about the only person around this place who hasn’t been, from what I hear. You must have a fucking queue at your window. Who’s this latest pervert? Not Denny Bycraft?”

I explained who Graham Mundy was and our investigation as succinctly as I could.

“Sounds like you two fucking hayseeds are going nowhere fast with this case. Time to hand it over to the big kids,” she ordered.

“Give us a few more days, ma’am,” I begged on the Sarge’s behalf. “Please.”

“Don’t start pleading with me, Tessie. It’s demeaning for you, especially if you’re doing it for Maguire.” I could hear her inhaling as she took a suck of her cigarette and blew the smoke out noisily into the receiver. “Tell me, who’s running Bumfuck Town if you two Inspector Clouseaus are here every day, bumbling around, thumbs up your arses, pretending you’ve got a fucking clue what you’re doing?” she demanded. “Get back there right now and start preparing a report for me on this investigation. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and Tessie?”

“Ma’am?”

“You have until nine on Monday morning and not one fucking second longer. Then you hand it over if you haven’t made significant progress. And I mean like having someone in the watch house. I’ll see you in court tomorrow. Don’t be late. And make sure you look tragic. I want that magistrate to shed genuine tears over you as he’s throwing those motherfucking Bycrafts back into custody.”

She hung up on me, leaving me smiling. She’d just indulged me hugely and I wasn’t about to abuse the privilege.

“Well?” asked the Sarge anxiously.

“She’s given us till nine, Monday morning, but not one second longer. Plus we have to go back to Little Town right now, and that was an order.”

He shook his head in frustration, but we did as we were told and returned to Little Town, chewing over the investigation as we drove.

“Where does the hundred grand come into it?” I pondered. “Maybe it isn’t related after all.” On an impulse I rang Miss G and described the suitcase the money had been found in to her to see if she recognised it.

“It does rather sound like a suitcase my mother owned, dear,” she said cautiously. “But I haven’t seen it for an age. Not since she died back in 1982, in fact.”

“It had a monogram – EAG.”

“That’s my mother’s initials. Edith Agnes Greville. It must be her suitcase, but why do you need to know?”

“Would you be able to come to the Big Town police station tomorrow to look at it?” I asked. “I have to be in court tomorrow morning, but we could pick you up after that. I’ll explain everything then.”

“Of course, Officer Tess. Anything to get to the bottom of this.” She paused and I sensed a great deal of emotion being suppressed. “I always thought Stanley Murchison was an honourable gentleman. I suppose that I’ve been wrong all this time and he’s just a bald-faced liar and swindler.”

“Aw Miss G, you mustn’t blame yourself for trusting a con man. They’re highly talented at appearing to be reputable and believable. That’s what they do for a living.”

“I consider myself to be a very good judge of character, Officer Tess,” she said with a small hint of pride. “But I’m afraid I’ve let myself down badly this time.” Her voice was tinged with such sadness and regret that my heart flew out to her.

“Miss G . . .” I just didn’t know what to say to her. She sounded heartbroken over the whole matter.

“Never mind, dear,” she rallied with a little bitterness. “Life is made up of such challenges and troubles and if we fall at the first hurdle, we either give up or we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and finish the race with pride and determination. Even if we come last.”

“Well said, Miss G. You’re a brave and inspirational woman,” I complimented sincerely and we said farewell to each other. I slumped in my seat afterwards. When a few minutes had passed, I turned to the Sarge. “You know, there’s no such thing as a victimless crime.”

“No, there isn’t, Tess. Even if a person gets away with a crime and nobody notices what they’ve done, they become a lesser person with each crime they commit. Getting away with it only increases their confidence and makes them more prone to offending again. And that makes them even less redeemable, which eventually has an impact on society and all of us in general.”

“Well said, Sarge,” I said quietly, echoing what I’d said to Miss G. Maybe that was why I cared so much about the younger Bycrafts. Surely there had to be some point where that family decided to stop the hating and the violence and could become reconciled to Fullers living in the same town as them? The Fullers had all suffered so much over the years because of the Bycrafts, especially the Fuller women.

“You’re very subdued,” the Sarge commented, as we turned left onto the highway, heading into Little Town.

“Miss G was devastated at being taken for a fool. It broke my heart. She’s a good person who’s never harmed anyone in her whole, long life. It’s cruel. Life’s so unfair sometimes.”

“It is, Tess, and there’s no point trying to pretend otherwise. And as cops we know that better than anybody.” He paused for a moment, glancing at me slumped in my seat. “Last year I had to go to a man’s workplace and tell him some terrible news. The worst kind of news. He was a good, honest man, working hard, doing nothing wrong in life. He’d lost his wife to breast cancer only six months before and I had to tell him that his only children, twin daughters, had both been killed in a terrible car crash.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes while he overtook a road train, before he continued.

“They were on their way to classes at university one morning. Both were studying to be pharmacists. Bright, kind girls, lots of friends, very social. They were slammed into by a drugged-up, unlicensed truckie who’d been driving all night, speeding and running red lights. When I told their father, he broke down completely, collapsed to the floor and started . . . ” He cleared his throat. “Not crying, kind of wailing, I guess you’d call it. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. What can you possibly say to a poor man like that?”

He took a deep breath, remembering. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. I stayed with him for the rest of the day until his family arrived from interstate, but I’ve never forgotten.” He stared straight ahead at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Oh Sarge, how awful!” I sympathised immediately, one hand automatically reaching out to gently pat his tense forearm in support. As a cop, I’d never had to break any news that terrible. Yet.

He glanced at me, an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ve never told anybody about that before.”

I was shocked by his confession. Where the hell was the support base in his life? You can’t survive as a cop without one. I was lucky to have a loving father and boyfriend and loyal friends, including other cops, to turn to when I needed to vent. Not to mention my chickens as well. They’d heard a lot of bad stuff in their short lives.

“Why haven’t you ever told anyone that before?” I asked without thinking. “You should have talked about it with someone when it happened. Maybe your mother or your friends. Or Melissa. Why didn’t you?”

“I think that you’re very nosy,” he rebuked, “and that you’ve just asked me another question.” His eyes were directed straight ahead, not even the glimpse of a smile on his face. I withdrew my hand and sunk back into my seat. He was good at pushing people away. I knew that folk like that sometimes hoped deep down that others would persist and force them to share. So I tried again.

“Sarge, if you ever want to talk about anything, then I want you to know that I’m here for you. I’m a good listener. Quite a few people have told me so,” I said hesitantly, not sure how he’d take that, but feeling compelled to offer. For some strange reason, I felt as though he had desperately needed to unload that story to somebody, but hadn’t been given the opportunity before. Maybe he was too busy being the strong, tough guy? Maybe he didn’t want to share the ugly side of his job with his loved ones? Lots of cops were like that. Who knows, but I’d heard enough stories about cops falling to pieces to ignore any hint of strong emotions being bottled up.

He didn’t glance my way. “I didn’t mean to tell you that at all. I just blurted it out for some reason.”

“It’s important to share sometimes. Especially with someone you trust. I’m probably not that person for you, seeing we virtually just met, but I want you to know that I will never pass on anything you ever tell me.”

“Thanks Tess,” he said unemotionally. “I don’t doubt that and I appreciate the offer.” He stared ahead solidly as he drove, an impenetrable barrier around him.

I felt as though I’d been put back in my box, subtly but surely. He obviously didn’t think that I could ever be of any support to him. I shrugged to myself. He didn’t like me. I couldn’t help that, but I could still try to be a good work partner.

My phone rang. It was Jake. I brightened up immediately.

“Honey-boy, how you doing?” I asked, and then listened to how he would be doing so much better if I was there with him. I smiled broadly at that. “You are the world’s number one charmer, Jacob Bycraft.”

“Who wouldn’t want to charm you, Teresa Fuller?” I could hear the matching smile in his voice.

“You’d be surprised,” I replied enigmatically, eyes sliding over to the Sarge.

“What have you been up to, babe?”

“Fiona gave me a great idea about you, me and my kitchen table. I can’t wait to talk to you about it, or better still, maybe I should just show you when I see you next,” I teased, turning to the side in the futile hope that the Sarge couldn’t overhear every word I was saying.

“Tessie darling, you are a very naughty girl. How am I supposed to concentrate on work now?” he complained. “All the prisoners will escape while I’m day-dreaming about you, me and that kitchen table.”

“But that’s why you love me, isn’t it, because I’m such a naughty girl?”

“You betcha, baby doll, but I’m warning you that kitchen table better have strong legs,” he joked and we laughed together conspiratorially. It was incredible how easily he could lift my spirits.

I didn’t want to spoil his playful mood, but I had to tell him. “I’ll be in court tomorrow morning, Jakey. For the Bycraft committal hearings. They’re being done as a bunch.”

“Oh,” he said, quietening. “I guess Red will go down for more time again.”

“I hope so. He deserves it. He’s a menace to women everywhere and to me especially. You know I haven’t relaxed since he got out on parole.”

“I know, but I don’t think he’d ever really do anything to you.” He didn’t sound as if he was even convincing himself with that statement.

“He already has, Jake. He recently beat the crap out of me, remember? And do you know what he said to me when he did it? He said he wanted to finish the job that Bobby and Craig Bycraft left undone. His exact words! How do you think that makes me feel?” I was becoming agitated as I did every time I thought about that particular threat.

Other books

Shore Lights by Barbara Bretton
Todd, Charles by A Matter of Justice
Sewing in Circles by Chloe Taylor
The Drifter by Kate Hoffmann
Scorch by Kait Gamble