by
Little Dot
Continuing
Dot's "police procedural", contributed to the
Fantasy Archers topic of The Archers message
board.
A
persistant ringing woke North. He fumbled around for the alarm clock before
realising that it was the doorbell. Still in yesterday's clothes he went
to let Goddard in.
"Give me five minutes," he said gruffly.
A two minute shower
and clean clothes and he felt almost human. He grabbed his jacket from
the back of the couch and went to join Goddard in the car.
"Coffee, sir?" Goddard handed a large thermos to him and started
the car. The boy was a smooth driver and North managed two cups without
spilling any. He wondered whether Goddard's mother had made it. North
didn't think he looked old enough to make his own packed lunch. They say
you're getting old when the policemen start to look young, he told himself.
They were in Ambridge
High Street by eight thirty and parked up in the village hall car park.
A makeshift incident room had been set up in the hall, though North would
have favoured the back room of the pub on the other side of the green.
But the team would be here for briefing in thirty minutes and he wanted
to be ready.
From the information
they'd gathered the previous day and the data Goddard had come up with
North had a pretty long list of people he wanted interviewed. He'd skim-read
the pathology report earlier, but now he reread it more thoroughly: death,
as he had expected, had been due to strangulation and had occurred somewhere
between noon and two pm of the previous day. The bruises on her neck showed
that she'd be strangled from behind. The photos showed clearly, under
UV light, handprints, distinctive on the bright white flesh; the report
stated that the perpetrator had a hand-span of approximately 250mm - just
below average for an adult man - and that it had not been a violent attack,
or at least that the victim had not fought back. That seemed strange to
North: had she known her attacker well, had it begun as some kind of joke
or game?
There was nothing
else of much note. Deborah Gerrard had been a fit, healthy thirty two
year old. The scene, too, had revealed nothing in the preliminary search.
Leaders Wood was not a busy place, but enough dog walkers and ramblers
used it that the path was well trampled.
"Sir," Goddard's
face appeared over the top of the cubicle screen behind which North had
been sitting. "The team's all here, are you ready to start?"
North sighed and stood up.
"Yes," he said, "I think so, get them rounded up."
The briefing took
forty five minutes. North despatched a team up to the wood to do a finger
tip search on either side of the path, and three pairs of officers to
speak to people around the village. Leaving the researchers in the incident
room to look into Debbie's official records, he and Goddard went to visit
her family.
---
"Mrs Aldridge,"
North stood in the immaculate lounge facing a well dressed, moderately
attractive woman. Jennifer Aldridge's face was pale, and her eyes showed
the traces of a night of sleepless crying. One of the female PCs who had
been with the Aldridges since the discovery stood silently in the corner.
"I'm Detective
Inspector Andrew North, and this is PC Martin Goddard. May I extend my
condolences for your sad loss. I, er, I wonder if we could ask you a few
questions about yesterday?" He hated dealing with relatives, but
it had to be done.
"Of course,"
JenniferÂ’s voice was very quiet, "please, sit down."
"Thank you," North took the chair indicated. "Maybe PC..."
"Naomi Stone, sir,"
"Thank you, maybe PC Stone could make us some tea?"
"Of course," Jennifer said, "if you wouldn't mind."
She smiled feebly at the woman.
"I hope you don't mind having PC Stone with you," North said,
"it's standard procedure. She's there to answer any questions you
might have."
"It was explained last night,"Jennifer
turned half away from him and looked across the room, family photos lined
the walls and shelves.
"Of course. So, just a few questions I need to ask if that's alright."
"Anything, Mr North, anything you like. I just want to find out who
did this."
"And that's what we want too, Mrs Aldridge. Now, PC Goddard will
be taking notes, but it's nothing you need to worry about," North
cleared his throat. "Um, can you tell me when you last saw or spoke
to your daughter?"
"Well, yes," Jennifer sat up a little straighter, "It would
have been about mid-morning yesterday, she'd been working on the tractor
out in the yard, just some routine maintenance, and she came in for coffee.
I suppose she went back out at just after half past ten. Then about an
hour later I heard someone in the yard, we have a lot of visitors, but
I looked out and saw it was Kenton and I saw him talking to Debbie and
they went off together, somewhere, I don't know where, and that was the
last..." she stiffled a sob, "that was the last time I saw her."
"Kenton?" North queried. Stone had returned with a tray of tea.
"Kenton Archer, my cousin's eldest son. He's come back to Ambridge
quite recently, and he and Debbie have become quite close friends."
"So they're cousins?"
"Once removed, yes," she seemed more comfortable discussing
her family history. "They share a set of great grandparents."
"So, he's the son of..?"
"Phil and Jill Archer."
"Of course," North took a sip of his tea. "And you say
he's just come back. Where from?"
"He's been back a few months now, but he was in Australia. I'm afraid
I couldn't tell you which part."
"And what about Debbie's private life, Mrs Aldridge? I believe she
was in the process of divorcing her husband."
"Simon. Yes," Jennifer's face hardened at the mention of Simon
Gerrard. "Poor Debbie caught him cheating on her with another woman.
He went back to Canada before Christmas. And then..." Jennifer pressed
her hand over her month, and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure,
"and then Debbie discovered that her father, that my husband, Brian,
had been unfaithful too."
"I see," North didn't know what to say.
"Debbie really hasn't had much luck with men. She has no contact
with her real father; and then both Simon and Brian letting her down...
well, she was quite miserable... you can understand that, can't you?"
Yes, North could understand it - the feeling of betrayal, of broken trust;
the feeling that you would never love again. North dragged his attention
back to the questioning. Jennifer was still speaking: "She's been
trying ... she had been trying, to sort out her feelings, to decide what
to do with her life - whether to stay working on the farm with Brian.
It's been so hard for all of us."
"Thank you, Mrs
Aldridge, you've been very helpful," North stood holding out his
hand to her, but Jennifer remained seated, eyes down cast. North withdrew
his hand and addressed one final question to her: "Have you any idea
where we would find Kenton Archer?"
"Well, he's nominally living with his parents at Glebe Cottage, but
I think he spent most nights at Debbie's cottage. I'm afraid I don't know
where he spent last night. I haven't been near the cottage. I can give
you the spare key though."
"Thank you, that would be a great help, though we'll check with his
parents first I think."
---
Glebe Cottage was
picture perfect, North thought as he stood on the doorstep waiting for
the bell to be answered: rose covered porch, cottage-style garden, thick
stone walls, tiny windows. No doubt the back garden contained neat rows
of vegetables and a wooden framed greenhouse, and probably a tasteful
water feature. He was just raising his hand to the bell again when the
door was opened.
"Mrs Archer?" The woman nodded. "My name is DI North. May
I come in?"
"Of course," she stepped back from the door and let him into
the tiny hall. "Do go through." North led the way into a cosy
sitting room. Goddard followed.
"Thank you, Mrs Archer..." North sat down.
"Call me Jill, otherwise it will get very confusing, very quickly."
"Ah, yes, there are rather a lot of 'Archers' in the village"
North looked around the room trying to decide what to say. There were
family photographs everywhere here as well, a recent one showed four people
in their mid-to-late thirties. He took a gamble: "Your children?"
"Oh, yes," Jill smiled. "That was at Shula and Kenton's
birthday party last year - they're the two in the middle, and that's David
and Elizabeth."
"Sir," Goddard exclaimed suddenly. North shot him a quick 'what-is-it'
glance, "Can I just go and check something. It won't take a minute."
"Be quick," North said with a nod.
Once the young officer
had gone North turned to Jill. "You'll have heard about Deborah Gerrard?"
"Yes, such a terrible thing, it makes you wonder what the world's
coming to," Jill shook her head sadly. "David, my son worked
with her, you know, and Kenton had become very close to her recently,
and Elizabeth had always been such good friends with her."
"I believe Kenton had been spending quite a lot of time with her
- that he may have seen her yesterday," He watched Jill closely,
but her face gave nothing away. "I understand Kenton has been staying
here. Do you know where he is now?"
"I don't," Jill said slowly, "I'm sorry." She paused,
"why?"
"Just a routine thing. He may well have been the last one to see
her alive."
"Apart from the murderer, DI North." Jill said acidly. PC Goddard
had returned. He was holding a sheet of paper.
"Of course, that goes without saying," North agreed quickly.
"I would like to speak to your son however. I'll leave my number
and if you do see or speak to him, I'd be grateful if you'd let me know
where he is."
"Yes, Detective Inspector, I think I could manage that." Jill
took the business card that North was holding out and placed it on the
well polished coffee table.
As soon as they were
outside Goddard thrust the paper he was holding into North's hands. It
was a printout of Interpol's most wanted list.
"Number six, Sir, Kenny Bowan, it's him isn't it, from the photo?"
Goddard was almost bouncing with excitement. North studied the paper.
Kenny Bowan was wanted by the Australian police in connection with fraud
in four states and the disappearance of his wife. He bore an uncanny resemblance
to Kenton Archer.
The final parts
appear next week
