CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

As 5 a.m. approached, Greenborough police station still buzzed with activity. WPC Yvonne Collins flopped down gratefully into a mess room chair and watched as her partner, PC Niall Farrow unclipped his heavy equipment belt and lowered it gently to the floor.

‘Maybe if you put on a few pounds around your gut, you’d be able to cram a load more gadgets on that thing.’ She stared at her crewmate in exasperation. ‘Something useful like an AK47, or the kitchen sink, maybe?’

‘I like to be prepared,’ said Niall smugly.

‘You’re a copper, not a boy scout! And if you jam anything else around your waist, there won’t be room for us both in the patrol car.’

‘Lighten up, Vonnie. One day I’m sure you’ll be grateful for my excellent selection of equipment.’ He grinned at her.

‘In your dreams, Sunshine.’ Yvonne smiled as she pulled off her hat and placed it on the chair next to her. Her crewmate’s constant exuberance amused her. Niall was only two years into the job, and still viewed every moment as a great adventure.

Yvonne was nearing fifteen years’ service and had a more pragmatic approach to her job, usually praying for peace and goodwill to all men, something she rarely got to see.

‘So, how many mask-related incidents do you think have occurred tonight?’ asked Niall, leaning back and stretching.

‘Well, we’ve had three, haven’t we? One mugging, a couple of joy-riders and that group of masked kids trying to break into the chippie. I’m not sure what the other crews have had.’ Yvonne thought about the spate of petty crimes all committed by youths wearing horrible rubber masks, and gave a little shiver. ‘Those things are obscene. I just wish we knew where they were coming from.’

‘Yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it?’ Niall went to the coffee machine and sorted through his pocket for some change. ‘Started with a few school kids wearing them to scare the shit out of each other, now they are all over town. Someone must know what the devil’s going on.’

Yvonne accepted the coffee that Niall handed to her. ‘Thanks. I need this. Let’s hope we’ve seen the last of them for this shift. Those masks give me the creeps.’

‘Collins! Farrow! You’ve got a shout! Now!’ The sergeant’s voice echoed down the corridor and into the mess room.

Yvonne grabbed her hat and jumped up. ‘Bugger! Grab that bloody ton of hardware off the floor, Niall. Here we go again!’

* * *

As Yvonne and Niall chased more masked hooligans around the town, Nikki walked slowly down the corridor to CID. She was very early, but sleep had evaded her and seeing the dawn rise over the nick was distinctly preferable to spending one more waking moment in her miserable flat.

She could hear the murmured comments of the officers on duty, but she did what she normally did, and ignored them. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know what they were saying. News travelled fast through the station and she had a fair idea that a book had already been opened on how long Old Nick and Holy Joe would last as a team.

Nikki pushed open the door to her office and decided that she would not be placing a bet. She took off her jacket, flung it over the back of her chair, and went straight back out to get a coffee. She wanted some time to herself before her new sergeant arrived. She just wished they’d let her go solo. When she worked alone, she was at her best. Now they were pairing her with . . . ? Nikki stared at the steaming brown liquid dribbling into the beaker and wondered. With who, exactly? She knew very little about Joseph Easter. As the super had said, everything she knew had come straight from the mess room, and that was not the most reliable source. As she picked up the beaker and placed it in a holder, a wry smile crossed her face. And if Sergeant Easter believed everything he heard about
her
via the grape vine, he would probably be expecting to meet the Medusa herself.

Maybe she should use the next hour to do a little sleuthing about him. Then again, that would be something of a pointless exercise. The super had made her position perfectly clear, she was going to
have
to try to work with him, so she may as well draw her own conclusions as they went along. She just hoped that the subject of religion would not creep into their conversations. She wasn’t sure how she’d react to being told just how great God was, when as far back as she could remember, the Almighty had taken a backseat when it came to helping her out. Perhaps some nice, clear ground rules should be the first item on her agenda.

She pushed through her office door, trying not to spill her coffee, and saw an untidy pile of rubber masks lying on her desk.

‘Oh shit!’ She muttered, picking up a memo from the night shift crews. Fifteen of the hideous things confiscated in just one night!

She glanced at her watch and wondered if the super would be in yet. He’d asked to be kept informed about them, and clearly they were becoming more than just a nuisance.

She flopped down at her desk. It would be a little while before he arrived, certainly long enough to do a search. Not on Joseph Easter, but on someone from a different investigation, a rather private one that she had been discreetly running for a very long time. Nikki switched her computer on, drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk while she waited for it to boot up, then punched in her password. A few screens later and she was where she wanted to be. She carefully typed in FLUKE, and waited.

Damn! No one known to them used that particular tag. She tried FLOOK, in case she had misunderstood the spelling, then widened the search, but still nothing. Nikki closed the programme and went onto the Internet, but after half an hour’s hunting, gave up. Only a rock band of that name, one that Hannah had been a fan of, jarred off any sort of recognition. Nikki signed off the computer, and sat thinking about her daughter. Hannah loved the kind of music that destroyed both eardrums and brain cells in one hit, and for a moment Nikki could hear herself screaming “Will you
please
turn that rubbish down!”

She sipped her coffee, and wished that her daughter was still at home. She missed her. She missed the mess, the noise, the arguments, the tantrums and the tears. Funny really, she missed all the things that she had spent years complaining about. Nikki swallowed another gulp of her drink and glanced back at her watch. No time to start wading through the mud and mire of the past, the superintendent should be in by now, and she needed to get her brain back into work mode.

One more hour, and the good Reverend Easter would arrive. Nikki felt a despondency creep into her. Hell, she didn’t even know what he looked like! Probably short and paunchy, with receding hair and a permanent holier-than-thou expression. Not that that mattered much to her. She glanced down at the masks, and thought maybe everyone wore a mask when it suited them. She certainly did, come to think of it. And why should she be worrying about the arrival of the newest addition to her shabby little team? If the jungle drums were correct, he’d just be another lamb to the slaughter, and if he had the balls and stamina of his predecessors, he’d be breaking the speed limit all the way back to Fenchester before nightfall. With a sigh, she picked up her coffee and one of the masks, and went to find the super.

* * *

Superintendent Bainbridge lifted it up with a finger and thumb, and stared at the mask with distaste. ‘What the hell is it supposed to be?’

‘Part rat, part rotting corpse. And its origin is hazy, to say the least.’

‘Lovely. So why can’t we trace the source?’

Nikki drew in a long breath. ‘Beats me, sir. They don’t show up legitimately anywhere. Not in fancy dress hire places, or in novelty shops, or suppliers catalogues, nowhere.’

‘What about the Internet? That’s where practically everything comes from these days, isn’t it?’

‘First place we looked, sir, but we got a big fat zero.’

‘So how do these kids get hold of them?’

‘Sounds ridiculous, I know . . .’ Nikki ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled, ‘. . . but they just seem to turn up. Everyone we’ve interviewed has denied buying or purposefully acquiring them. They just seem to have come by them somehow, and being the opportunists that they are, have used them for whatever mischief or devious little crime they were planning on committing.’

The super frowned. ‘And is there any connection between the youngsters who have been using the masks?’

‘Not really. The kids come from different schools, different areas of the town, even different ethnic groups.’ She shrugged. ‘The first users were a bunch of school kids nicking their classmates dinner money. Then they appeared on the Carborough Estate where some little scrotes were playing some sort of scary knock-down-ginger and putting the frighteners on whoever opened the door. Then we had a couple of handbag snatches with kids wearing them, and a mugging over near the railway station. Now, they are all over the place.’

‘And last night?’

‘PC’s Collins and Farrow left me a memo, sir. One little toe-rag that they brought in, called the mask by a name. Called it a
Griffyx
apparently, then clammed up tighter than a duck’s backside. WPC Collins Googled it, but found nothing. I’ll have a word with them before they go off shift, sir, maybe . . .’

‘Sorry to interrupt, sir.’ The big frame of Jack Conway, the duty sergeant appeared in the doorway. ‘I’ve had the dean of the Fenland University on the blower. One of his third-year students is missing. She’s twenty-one apparently, and I told him the score regarding mispers, but he wondered if you’d give him a ring. Said you know him.’

The superintendent frowned. ‘Mm, I do. Did he leave a number, Jack?’

‘Yes, sir, got it right here.’ The sergeant handed him a note and left.

As Nikki made to follow him, the super called her back. ‘Hang fire, Nik. Let’s just check this out. I’ve known Kenneth Villiers for years, he’s been a staunch supporter of everything we’ve been trying to do with the youth of Greenborough, both financially and with practical help. One thing I do know about him, is that he’s not the type to panic over one wayward student.’

For several minutes Nikki listened to a one-sided telephone conversation, but from the super’s tone, and the grave expression on his face, she knew he was taking everything that he was being told very seriously. After a while he slowly replaced the receiver in its cradle, and said, ‘I don’t like the sound of this. I’m aware this young woman is not considered at risk, or indeed even vulnerable, but Dr Villiers is quite certain that something has happened to the girl.’

‘What’s the situation?’

‘Her name is Kerry Anderson, she’s twenty-one years old, in her last year, taking a BA in photography. Star pupil, preparing to go on to post-graduate level. Apparently she went out late on Monday night, which is not unusual, but she failed to show up for a field trip yesterday, which was
very
unusual.’

Nikki thought carefully, then said, ‘Well, I know we’d normally refer him to the Missing Person’s Bureau, but if this Villiers is such an important benefactor, would you like me to make a few low-key enquiries?’

The superintendent flashed her a concerned glance. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

She leaned forward, knowing full well that the super was remembering the old case that nearly sent her off the rails. ‘I’m okay with it, honestly.’ Her eyes pierced him with their intensity, then she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. ‘
Please
don’t keep protecting me from every case that involves young women. I have my new sergeant as from today, and all I’m doing, apart from my constant battle with the drug dealers, is playing with bloody Halloween masks! Let’s face it, sir, ten to one, your student has buggered off with the boyfriend and discovered that nookie is far more fun than seminars, tutorials and lectures.’ She mustered a pathetic smile and pleaded. ‘
Please
, super, let me do this.’

The man’s eyes narrowed. He looked as if he was precariously juggling his head and his heart. Finally he seemed to make some kind of a decision, and he nodded. ‘Okay. Maybe you’re right. Just be sure to take your new sergeant with you, it’ll be a way of getting to know him.’

Like hell, she thought, but managed to freeze frame her smile for a little longer. ‘Thanks super. As soon as he’s here, we’ll get onto it.’

CHAPTER FIVE

Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter stood by his parked car and looked across at the police station. It was about as different to his old patch as a Morris Minor to a Ferrari Enzo.

Fenchester nick was a 1920s piece of history, while this sparkling edifice of steel and smoky glass was strictly ultra-modernism, and bloody ugly with it. He grinned to himself. And that was just fine. He needed everything to be completely different. And this was about as different as it got.

He was early, but then he always was. And probably not a bad thing. First impressions and all that. But should he really be suffering from nerves, at the age of thirty-eight? He considered his own question, then decided that, under the present circumstances,
anyone
would be suffering from nerves. Joseph bit his lip. One month here. That was the agreement. He just hoped he was doing the right thing. He took a deep breath and straightened his tie. One more thing to do before he went in. He removed his mobile from his pocket, flipped it open and pressed a speed dial number.

‘Hi there, sweetheart, it’s Dad. I’ve no idea of the time where you are, but I wanted you to know that I’m going to be working out of Greenborough for few weeks. With a new boss and she’s got something of a reputation, but hopefully we’ll get on. Uh, that’s all I guess. Hope you’re okay, and I’m on the same number if you need me. And I love you. Always have and always will.’

He shut the phone and closed his eyes for a moment. A face swam behind his eyelids. Long, light brown hair and huge hazel eyes. Uneven dimples and very white teeth.
Yes, I love you. But sadly, it looks as though I have just run out of excuses for not going in to that arty-farty tin can of a building and introducing myself.
Before he opened his eyes, he muttered a few quiet words to himself, then strode across the paved courtyard to the front entrance.

Joseph stepped inside, looked around, and was forced to smile. It may be a high-tech modern building, but the clients who frequented it were exactly the same as those in Fenchester. They just stood out as being even more grubby and smelly against the shining safety glass and clean, acrylic painted walls. In his old nick, they kind of blended into the worn and faded flooring, the chipped woodwork and the high, dark stained ceilings.

Joseph walked briskly up to the reception desk. ‘Detective Sergeant Easter to see Superintendent Bainbridge, please.’

The briefest hint of amusement that crossed the woman’s face was not lost on him.

‘If you’ll just wait a moment, sir, I’ll take you up.’ She turned away and called loudly for someone to cover the desk for her. Instantly he saw a sea of curious faces look his way.

As they walked across the foyer towards the lifts, she said, ‘The super will be very pleased to see you, sir.’

‘Why? Is something going down?’

The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘No, no. It’s just that CID are not up to full strength at present. DI Galena’s
last
sergeant re-located to the West Country, you know.’

She gave him a sidelong glance as they moved into the lift, and Joseph stifled a grin.

‘Yes, I heard. Lovely part of the world.’

‘Mm, lovely.’ The woman gave him an overly innocent look, and said, ‘You
are
going to be working with DI Galena, aren’t you?’

The lift sighed and stopped with hardly a shudder, which made a very pleasant change from flights of stone stairs with rickety brass rails. He flashed her one of his brightest smiles, and thought, you know full well I am, my friend, but if you want to play, that’s fine by me.
‘Oh yes. And I’m
really
looking forward to it.’

The eyebrows lifted again. ‘Second door along, sir. And good luck.’

The lift doors closed silently, but he could have sworn that he heard a soft giggle coming from inside. Joseph paused and considered that perhaps his name should have been Daniel, because this felt very much like the entrance to a lion’s den.

He gritted his teeth, took a long deep breath, and knocked on the door.

* * *

As Joseph waited tentatively outside the superintendent’s office, a commuter train pulled out of Greenborough station. None of its occupants took notice of the two sullen-faced youths who sat on a graffiti-covered bench. As the train moved slowly away, they glanced at each other, then left the seat and silently slipped down the steep bank at the end of the platform, and disappeared into a scrubby area full of weeds and broken concrete.

‘Can you see them?’ One boy whispered urgently.

‘Give us a chance!’

Crouching low, although there was little chance of being spotted in this godforsaken spot, they searched between the stunted, windblown shrubs, and untidy piles of builder’s waste.

‘Got it!’ The taller of the two cursed and scrabbled his way through a thicket of nettles and brambles to where he could see the sack. It was an orange nylon bag, the sort that held onions or other root vegetables. Something often seen discarded beside the acres of arable fields, or in the rubbish that collected beside railway tracks.

The boy dragged it out and pulled the drawstring tie open. ‘Wicked!’

‘How many?’ The smaller boy squatted down beside him and peered into the bag.

‘Twenty or more.’

‘Yee-ha!’ Whooped the younger one. ‘Hey, Marcus? What if we try to make something out of this lot? Even just a fiver on each? What do you think?’

‘I think you have shit for brains, arsehole! You know the score. These things come and go. No money
ever
changes hands, right? The only ones who get anything, are you and me, and that’s for making sure things are done right, so don’t forget it!’

‘Well, it’s still risky, ain’t it?’ The younger one looked peeved. ‘If we got caught . . .’

‘Don’t be a total turd, Mickey! No one’s going to catch us, and if they did, what exactly have we done?’ He shrugged. ‘We’ve picked up a sack and looked in it. Last time I drew breath, there was no law against that. So,’ he glowered at the other boy, ‘we take these to the arranged places, and forget all about them, until we get another call, okay?’ He drew a plain sealed envelope from the sack, opened it and handed his friend a couple of notes. ‘Just don’t get greedy, Mickey, this is money for old rope, and you know it.’

The boy took the money and counted it. ‘I suppose. It’s just that my granddad told me never to pass up a chance to make a fast buck, that’s all.’

‘It’d be a very deadly buck, man. The last one you’d ever make. I’ve been told what would happen if we cock up, and it ain’t nice, believe me.’

Mickey’s already pasty face, blanched a shade paler. ‘So, what’s it all about? Why all this big secret shit?’

The older boy grabbed Mickey’s shoulder, fingers biting deep into his flesh. ‘Look, do you want that cash? Or do I find someone else to help me? Someone who can keep his fucking trap shut for longer than twenty seconds at a time, and not keep asking fucking stupid questions!’

‘Okay! Okay! Back off! I’m sorry, alright? Just get off me, and let’s go make the drops.’

Without another word, the two boys gathered up their precious bag and made their way to a crumbling wall at the back of the yard, where they scrambled over, and disappeared into the copse beyond.

* * *

Nikki strode down to the front desk. The new recruit would be here shortly, and as she obviously could do nothing to alter that fact, she’d get in first and leave him a message to report directly to her office.

‘
When
Detective Sergeant Easter arrives, please tell him . . .’

‘Oh, he’s already here, ma’am.’ The officer feigned surprise that she should not know this fact. ‘He arrived over half an hour ago. He’s with the superintendent.’

Nikki bit back a retort, settled for a muttered “thank you”, and turned on her heel. She really should have known that Mister Efficiency would be early.

For a moment she felt very tired. Very tired of what she had become. She had never set out to be the Fenland Constabulary’s number one harridan, over the years it had just kind of turned out that way. When the people you worked with are not as driven as you are, it’s inevitable that you end up resenting each other. And now the super would, no doubt, be sitting in his office, sipping tea, and prepping the new boy for what he should expect from working with Old Nick.

She pushed open the door to CID, then halted abruptly, as she saw Superintendent Bainbridge talking to a tall, fair, floppy-haired man.

‘Ah Nikki! Excellent! Excellent!’

The bogus bonhomie that the big man was exuding was almost sick-making, and Nikki was forced to recall that this was her last chance in the eyes of top brass.

‘I’d like you to meet your new colleague.’ He turned to the man and said, ‘Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter, this is Detective Inspector Nikki Galena.’

The hand was already outstretched and waiting. As she shook it, she fought to conceal her surprise. Her initial impression of Joseph Easter was a very long way from anything she had expected. The face was almost familiar, not because she had ever met him before, but from a grainy black and white photograph that had hung on her daughter’s bedroom wall when she was going through her “deeply misunderstood and unfairly burdened with the worries of the world” phase. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to Rupert Brooke. Older, sure, but the ghost of the dead poet called out from behind the eyes of the policeman. Even more astounding than the unexpected good looks, was the fact that rather than looking paunchy and pious, he was downright sexy.

‘It’s an honour to work with you, ma’am.’ Joseph looked her directly in the eyes, and Nikki found it hard to hold their gaze. ‘Even if it is only for a month.’

For one weird moment, she actually believed him. Why didn’t she feel that he was taking the piss? Surely he had to be? Jesus, she hated it when she felt confused about people. She needed to take back control; then she’d feel more comfortable. ‘Four weeks, actually, Sergeant. And although I hate to break up the party, I think the pleasantries can wait. We have some enquiries to make about a missing young woman.’

‘And
I
think a quick guided tour of the station should come first, Nikki. After all, Joseph is a stranger here.’ The super threw her a warning glance.

‘No, no. That’s okay, sir.’ Joseph shook his head. ‘DI Galena is quite right. I can find my way around as we go along. No problem at all.’

The superintendent stepped back and raised his hands in surrender. ‘Then over to you two. And keep me informed on everything. Good Luck.’

Nikki wondered which one of them would need it.

‘Take that empty desk by the window, Sergeant. My office is over there.’ She pointed to the corridor. ‘The coffee machine is on the landing by the lifts. The karzy is at the end of the hall and the canteen is in the basement. Guided tour over. Now, I like my coffee black, strong and no sugar, sort that out and then meet me in my office in two minutes.’

As she closed her door behind her, she leant on it for one moment, and blew out a long whistling breath. Joseph Easter was
nothing
like she had imagined!

In two minutes, he was tapping on her door, then placing a beaker of coffee on the coaster on her desk.

‘Sit down. There are one or two things we need to get perfectly clear before we start.’ She fixed him with one of her best, unblinking stares. ‘I never asked for this. I like to work alone. I am not easy to work with, in fact, according to most of this bloody station, I’m damn near impossible,
and
I deeply suspect your motives for coming here.’

Joseph returned her stare. ‘Fair enough. But you know that my old Inspector, Val Hughes, was forced to retire?’

‘Yes. She was injured working the Castor Fen murders.’ Nikki wondered where this was going.

‘We had a very good working relationship, ma’am. But I’m afraid I did not gel too well with the officer who took her place.’ He shrugged. ‘I wanted a change, ma’am. A clean break. Something completely different.’

Nikki looked at him steadily. ‘Do you see me as a challenge, Sergeant?’

The detective seemed completely unfazed by her question. ‘No, ma’am. I don’t. But I know a little of your record, like your Queen’s Commendation for Bravery? You are driven and passionate, and your methods may not be the same as mine, but we want exactly the same outcome. We want the bad guys off the streets, and put away for as long as possible.’ He paused. ‘I know you take a lot of flak because of the way you work. Well, I take it because of the way I am.’

Nikki leant forward, her elbows on the desk and her chin resting in her hands. She saw no deception in those curiously dark eyes.

‘So, are you prepared to work with someone, who in order to catch a villain, risks her job almost every time she steps outside the station?’

‘In this job, we all have to take risks.’

‘And would you be prepared to back her up? Even if she lied, cheated and threatened in order to get an arrest?’

‘Although I would never compromise my own ethical beliefs, I’m sure everything depends on ones interpretation of the particular situation, doesn’t it, ma’am?’ There was a hint of mischief in the voice. ‘As long as I saw some kind of justice there, I would want to support my senior officer to the hilt.’