Reprobates (23 page)

Jen had questions to ask Dylan to help her solve the mystery of the missing paperwork in his personal file. She took another gulp of wine and picked up the neat pile of pressed clothes. Maybe a drink would loosen his tongue, she thought as she started to climb the stairs. No, she smiled to herself, she knew him better than that.

Dylan was different from any man she had ever known she considered, as she hung his shirts in his wardrobe. He was honest, loving and kind. He had told her about his early life. His brothers, his sisters and they had laughed together when he had told her how as a boy he’d been the receiver of hand-me-downs from his two elder brothers. He always said he was thankful his sisters had been born after him. He often reminisced about his love of telling stories to his siblings over a packet of ice cream wafers they saved up to buy from the ice-cream van. He had, had a happy childhood surrounded by a mother’s love and steam engines. What boy wouldn’t want to live in a railway house? Joe, Jack’s dad had worked on the railway. He was an investigative inspector in his own right into the causation of rail accidents. Although Jack had looked up to his dad he had always remained somewhat a little mysterious to him, he said. Joe was guarded about sharing his war stories from Burma, Jack told her and he never did know the truth of how he’d earned his oak leaf that was pinned to the ribbon of one of his war medals. He had been mentioned in dispatches at Dunkirk. She looked up at the picture of his mum and dad who had died long before she met Jack and felt a moment’s sadness. Maybe Dylan’s dad, Joe, had tried to protect the ones he loved by remaining tight-lipped about what he had witnessed at war and perhaps Dylan shared some of his dad’s reticence in talking about his work, she pondered. There was a thud and Max barked at the back door. She ran down the stairs and opened the door. ‘Oh, no,’ she said as her heart sank to see he had been sick again. Max appeared to be unperturbed and instead of appearing unwell he wagged his tail as he carried in a bone. ‘Where on earth have you got that from?’ she said taking it from him and throwing it in the bin. Max was not amused.

***

Dylan and Paul were standing at the bar of the King’s Head, it was relatively empty but for a group of women that stood nearby singing and swaying to the music from the juke box. Seeing all the empty lager bottles on the bar, and that their eyes were significantly wide, it suggested they had been there for some time. Dylan ordered a pint of lager for himself and one for Paul and headed for a seat in the alcove by the stained glass window.

‘
Cheers, mate,’ Dylan said, lifting the cold, wet glass to his lips.

‘
Cheers, boss,’ Paul said with a wan smile. He looked as tired as Dylan felt.

Dylan had barely put his glass on the table when his mobile phone rang.

‘Vicky,’ he said and looked at Paul, his eyebrows furrowed. ‘Hello,’ he said, walking away with one ear pressed to his mobile phone and a finger in the other ear in an attempt to hear what she said. He stepped out of the bar and into the cold but quieter porch. A woman walked out with a string of balloons in her wake and two ladies followed letting the swing door bang nosily behind them.

‘
Where the hell are you? I need to speak to you. We’ve got a breakthrough on the Billy Simpson murder.’ Vicky sounded excited.

‘
You still at the nick?’ Dylan said.

‘
Yeah, looking everywhere for you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I thought you might be with Chief Superintendent Hugo-Watkins but the top corridor is in darkness.’ Dylan could now hear the pitter patter her shoes made on the steps.

‘
Well, it is after five. Me and Paul, we’ve just popped into the King’s Head.’

‘Mine
’s a pint. I’ll be with you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,’ she said hanging up on him abruptly.

‘
Another pint,’ he said to the barman. Paul looked at him quizzically. ‘Vicky, she’s got news,’ Dylan said. He could hear car horns blaring over the music.

‘
Vicky, crossing the road,’ he said to Paul and sure enough the King’s Head door swung open and Vicky breezed in panting as if she had run a marathon. ‘Oh, my God,’ she said.

‘
Slow down and get your breath back,’ Dylan said nodding in the direction of her drink. ‘And then you can tell us your news on Mallard.’

The clock struck half past nine. It was late. Too late to start asking questions of Dylan when he came home. Jen laid newspaper at the back door,
‘just in case Max, right?’ she said stroking the soft fur at the top of his head, as he lay quietly in his bed. His big brown eyes looked up at her pensively. ‘Hope you feel better in the morning, if not I’m calling the vet,’ she said softly.

Treading the staircase to bed in her stockinged feet Jen could hear noises from the nursery. Maisy was awake, melodiously chattering. Jen stifled a giggle as she stood in the shadows and observed her daughter for a moment or two. Maisy lay on her back in her cot quite oblivious of her mother
’s nearness. For a split second Jen was tempted to sing along with her but the thought was a fleeting one. Instead, she went in to the nursery, gently put her hand to her daughter’s brow and slowly bent down to kissed her. Maisy turned her head with an angular rigidity at the touch, half-smiled, closed her eyes and bottom up nuzzled back into her slumber.

The phone rang. Closing the door behind her, Jen hot-footed it into the bedroom and sliding to a halt at Jack
’s side of the bed she reached out, stubbing her toe. ‘Fucking hell!’ she said under her breath.

‘Jen,
’ said a slightly inebriated woman’s voice, questioningly.

‘Yes,
’ she snapped. Sitting down on the bed she rubbed her toe vigorously.

‘You okay?
’

‘Yes,
’ she said biting her bottom lip.

‘
Just wondered if...could I come round tomorrow?’

‘Penny?
’ Jen said.

‘Yes,
’ she giggled, ‘who else did you expect at this time of night?’

‘
I thought it might be Jack actually. He isn’t home yet.’

‘
Oh, has something happened? He seemed preoccupied when I was in the office.’

‘
You were working today?’

‘Overtime. Can’t do enough for a good firm.’

‘I can see they’ve got you brainwashed already. I don’t know Penny, I really don’t know. I’ll see you Monday at work, yeah?’ she said.

She took a length of wood from under the bed and stuffed it in the bathroom bin.

***

The pub was filling up. Vicky spoke excitedly.

‘Two different hair samples found in the face mask worn by our deceased Billy Simpson. One is his,’ said Vicky, ‘And one is from a guy whose DNA is on the National Database.’

‘
You lucky old thing,’ Paul said. ‘I think some people think everyone in the country is on the database, but in my experience when I’m looking for someone, they’re almost never there.’

Dylan raised his eyebrows.
‘And?’ he asked, looking intently at Vicky.

‘He
’s got previous for assault which got him prison for nine months, but the judge suspended the sentence for two years. Before you ask. It’s spent,’ Vicky said.

‘
What else do we know about him?’

‘He
’s called Richard Bryant. Have you heard of him?’

The two men shook their heads.

‘He’s thirty-two years old and we have contact details for him – although I don’t know how up-to-date they are.’

‘So,
the next question is, what are you going to do with this intelligence, acting Detective Sergeant Hardacre?’ Dylan said leaning forward and picking up his drink from the table. He sat with it in his hand and waited for her response.

‘
Well, tempting as it might be, I haven’t gone and kicked his door in, yet,’ she grinned sheepishly.

Dylan took a sip of his drink and put his glass back on the table.
‘It’s a start. Why not?’

‘
The main reason is I’m still in the process of confirming his current address.’ Vicky half-smiled awkwardly. ‘I’m also waiting for CSI to get back to me. I want to know if his DNA has turned up anywhere else in Jane Simpson’s house. I would ultimately like to show him being there if I can, before we interview him.’

‘
Good, and?’ he asked, cocking his head to one side.

Vicky was thoughtful.
‘I’ve arranged for Jane Simpson’s telephone data to be checked to see what contact, if any, there has been between the two. If so I’m thinking, are they in a relationship?’

‘
Do we know what vehicle he’s driving?’

‘
Well like everything else, that could be out of date... but the vehicle registration is for a van. There isn’t any very recent intel on him.’

‘
Check out and confirm the information we have. Tomorrow hopefully, we’ll progress. Then we can plan together our approach to lock him up. If Billy Simpson doesn’t live at Jane Simpson’s any more, we need to try find out what the real reason for his visit was. And we need to ascertain what the motive to kill him is. Food for thought, but that’s great news in the right direction. Right,’ he said putting his hands on his knees. ‘My bed is calling me. I don’t know about yours. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.’ Dylan stood and put his arm in his jacket sleeve.

‘
Another one for the road, Paul?’ asked Vicky, picking up their empty glasses from the table.

‘
Why not,’ said Paul, ‘just the one.’

Dylan woke to the sound of rain battering the window pane. It was dark, he was cosy but the space next to him in bed was empty. He could hear Jen cajoling Maisy into eating her breakfast downstairs. Dylan lay quietly for a moment or two thinking. His first priority today would be Derek Harper. He would instigate one last interview with him, then they needed to get him charged and before the next available court to get him remanded in custody. The last thing he wanted was Harper warning the others in his little gang. That would spoil the surprise when he and the team arrived ultimately at the respective homes of his associates. Afterwards it would be time to focus on Richard Bryant, before trying to catch up on the rest of the paperwork and the monthly returns needed his attention. Dylan got up and dressed. He frowned at the wood in the bin, took it out and returned it to its rightful place
– his weapon should they ever have an intruder and much more subtle than the pickaxe handle he kept under the bed when he lived alone.

At ten o
’clock they were in the interview room with Derek Harper. The usually preliminaries were carried out and Dylan was straight into the questioning.

‘
Feeling better this morning, Mr Harper.’ said Dylan.

‘Yes.
’

‘
Good. We have now had the opportunity to see the images stored on your computer. It appears that they are of dead people of various ages, mainly of women positioned in such a way that tattoos and their genitalia are exposed; all taken at the mortuary. With the exception of some you took of Kirsty,’ he said.

‘
Why have you really taken them? Your bank account shows no regular payments, so it’s not for the money is it? Unless they paid you cash? Is it a fetish of yours?’

Harper remained silent.

‘We also know from the images that someone else was present when you took some of the photographs of Kirsty. One particular image shows someone’s reflection, in the mirror in your bedroom. Can you tell me who that person is?’

Derek Harper
’s eyes were staring.

‘
Why the silent treatment, Derek? Be assured we will find out who it is. You have this opportunity to explain yourself, before we do.’

‘
I don’t have to explain to you or anyone else. It’s my life and I’ll do what I want with it, and as for another person being present, that’s ridiculous.’ Derek Harper appeared angry, or was he frightened?

‘
Yes, you’re right you don’t have to explain anything to us, that’s your prerogative. However this is an opportunity, if you so wish to explain why you did it. Let’s face it, it must be very difficult trying to explain why you would photograph and interfere with dead bodies.’

His silence continued.

‘You have shown no dignity or respect whatsoever in your dealings with the bodies in the photographs. You have also interfered with a burial, and obstructed the Coroner in his duty and that’s apart from your depraved attempt at photography.’

Paul remained quiet. The detectives watched and waited to see if a response from the prisoner was forthcoming. His solicitor David Scacchetti sat perfectly still.

More questions were put to Derek Harper by Dylan and DS Paul Robinson but he chose not to respond to any of them. A wall of silence now faced them and Dylan took the decision to end the interview.

What Derek Harper had done was immoral, indecent and illegal and they all knew it.

‘DS Robinson, please could you charge Derek Harper with the necessary offences,’ Dylan said before turning to David Scacchetti. ‘Your client will be put before the next available Magistrates’ Court, which will be tomorrow morning,’ he said glancing at his watch, ‘where we will seek to remand him in custody. And of course technically he’ll be bailed in respect of his arrest for murder, those enquires will of course continue.’ The detectives left Derek Harper with his solicitor.

***

‘He’ll no doubt apply for bail,’ said Dylan to Paul as they left the interview room. ‘But you and I both know the magistrates won’t grant it. We’ve got a lot of work to do to identify the others involved.’

Paul disappeared to compile the list of charges.

‘Vicky,’ Dylan shouted.

‘
In the kitchen, boss,’ said Lisa. ‘Ned’s nicked her sandwiches again...’ she grimaced.

Dylan found Vicky eating a bag of chips.
‘Time to eat, have you?’ Dylan said.

‘Don
’t go there. First thing I’ve had today. That bastard’s eaten my snap again and this time it’s one too many,’ she said, vengeance written all over her face.

‘
I told you, I don’t want to know,’ Dylan said, as he filled the kettle. ‘Coffee, tea?’

‘Tea.
’

‘
Richard Bryant?’

‘
Lives in Midgely Court, Tandem Bridge, you know the place where Barrington Cook lived? He’s self-employed so he must be doing okay to afford one of those apartments. I’ve just been speaking to Sergeant Wilson in Traffic and funnily enough he stopped him while he was driving his work’s van a couple of weeks ago – so we know we’ve got the correct vehicle registration number for him – hence how I got his address.’

‘
You two are speaking again are you?’

‘
If I didn’t speak to my exes I’d never speak to anyone,’ she said with a half-hearted laugh.

‘
So, what do you think our next move should be?’ Dylan said.

‘
Time to take the bull by the horns?’

‘
I agree,’ Dylan said. ‘When?’

‘
Thinking about seven in the morning?’

‘I
’d do it at six. He might have an early start too. After you’ve eaten we’ll get a team sorted. If we brief them this afternoon we can come in and be straight on our way tomorrow morning.’ He smiled.

‘
What you smiling at?’ she said.

‘
I remember back in the day when detectives called eleven in the morning a dawn raid. Does he live on his own this Bryant?’

‘
It shows he does on the checks I did with local authority, but who knows until we get there? Did he know Barrington Cook do you think?’

‘
Maybe so, acting Detective Sergeant. Are we taking his door off the hinges?’

‘
Well, he’s a suspect for joint murder. I’d like to but I think we should start with a loud knock don’t you?’

‘You
’re in charge. Do we know if there is any CCTV at this complex? May be relevant if we need to dispute whether he is in or out at certain times of the day or night?’

‘
There was on the landing where Barrington Cook lived.’

‘
Promising then. By the way. I’m told that the applications for the role of Sergeant are out with a month’s window to get the applications in. Have you seen the advert?’

‘
Well that’s bloody great isn’t it? I’m investigating a murder, how the hell am I supposed to do that justice?’

‘Don
’t worry you will. We’ll discuss it later. There is plenty of time and I want to see your application before you submit it.’

‘But...
’

‘
No buts... if you want something bad enough you’ll find time. The applications for Chief Inspector are advertised too. I might even throw my hat in. Might be fun.’

‘
You have a peculiar take on what’s fun,’ Vicky said.

‘I
’ll come with you in the morning,’ said Dylan.

‘
No pressure then.’

‘
No pressure at all, unless you have the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened either will it?’

Vicky made a mental note to double-check all basic details. Now to get to the supermarket. There were things she needed if she was going to get her own back on the inerrant Detective Constable Ned Granger.

***

Dylan shuffled through his internal mail. Searching somewhat haphazardly for anything that might be urgent or interesting. A number of Home Office circulars with a signature sheet attached, for all officers to sign when read.

He noticed that the first signature after the Divisional Commanders was that of Inspector Justin Gaskin. He put the circulars to one side, if he got a chance he would read them. He’d make sure that Vicky did too.

Paul returned from the cell area having charged Derek Harper. His face a blaze of colour.
‘Do you know what that tosser said when I charged him?’

Dylan shook his head.
‘Surprise me.’

‘
I don’t know what all the fuss is about?’

‘
I bet the custody staff love him.’

‘
Yeah, the door to his cell was shut so quickly behind him that it nearly took his hand off.’

‘
He could save us a lot of time though Paul, if only he’d tell us who else is involved,’ Dylan said with a grimace.

‘He
’s not going to do that though is he? He doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong.’

‘
I hope they come back to haunt the bastard. I’m doing the raid at six in the morning with Vicky to lock up Richard Bryant so will you look on at Court for Harper’s remand if I’m not back? I’ll leave a message for Claire Rose at the press office to just basically say that a man will appear before Harrowfield Magistrates tomorrow charged in connection with the disappearance of a body from the local mortuary.’

‘I
’m sure the press will still want to speak to us.’

‘You
’ll cope, Paul. Just choose your words carefully and have respect for the dead.’

***

Penny hadn’t turned up at Jen and Dylan’s as threatened. Perhaps she had succumbed to another afternoon of ‘delight’ with her new man. With any luck tonight, Jen would get time alone with Jack and get some answers to her burning questions. Maisy was in her pyjamas and demanding supper. ‘How can you eat supper when you’ve only just had your tea,’ Jen said. Maisy presented a bowl to Jen. ‘Do it!’ she said. Jen’s heart melted, Dylan was missing out on so much. She put Weetabix and milk in the microwave and Maisy happily sat in front of the fire on her little chair being spoon fed. It was the only meal she would let Jen feed her now. Once eaten she picked up her favourite soft toy, ‘Bedtime,’ Jen said and Maisy gave a sleepy yawn and put her arms out. ‘Let’s go and get a book shall we? Which one would you like to read tonight?’

‘
The Gruffalo,’ she said sleepily.

***

The front door closed. Jen walked onto the landing and the top of the stairs. She put a finger to her lips. Dylan walked towards her up the stairs and she beckoned him to the nursery. It was warm and cosy. The light show from the baby monitor was effective in the darkened room. The colours and shapes fading as they spanned the ceiling. Dylan put his arms around Jen’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

‘
Bless her,’ he said softly.

Jen grabbed his hand, squeezed it tight and led him out of the bedroom into theirs.
‘Dinner will be ready in half an hour if you want to jump in the bath?’

‘
Great. I might just do that,’ he said. Dylan started to undress and Jen nipped into the en-suite and started to run the bath water for him.

‘I
’ll see you downstairs,’ she said standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

‘
Everything okay?’ he asked.

‘
Well, Max was sick again but he doesn’t seem to have had any after effects this time. He brought in a bone from the garden.’

‘
Where did he find a bone in the garden?’

‘
I don’t know. Maybe kids threw it over. But it might have been that that made him sick. I never give him cooked bones they’re too brittle. I threw it straight in the bin,’ she said. ‘Apart from that everything is fine. I am intrigued though,’ she said.

‘
Intrigued about what?’ asked Dylan.

‘
Intrigued to know more about you... about the missing paperwork from your file,’ she said. The lighting was dim and the temporary shadow he cast on her passed as she moved away from him, leaving his eyes and face softly luminous.

‘
Okay, but you will have to be patient with me.’

Jen reached out to his bare chest.
‘Why?’

‘
I don’t know if you will understand,’ he said taking the words from her lips.

‘
Of course I will. Don’t be silly,’ she said but her smile was gone.

‘
I should have told you from the start.’

‘
Now you’re frightening me. Told me what?’

He couldn
’t see her face for shadow as he stood over her but her face was hazed over with expectancy. Her eyes were half-closed, lips slightly trembling. She stood very still.