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Authors: Bill Kitson

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Vickers went to pick the letter up but Nash placed his hand on it. ‘No, Gary, reading that over and over isn’t going to do you any good. Besides, that letter is evidence.’

He turned to Mironova. ‘Clara, go back to the office, take this with you. Make out a new file on the unlawful killing of Stacey Fletcher. Put the letter in it, together with the photos we found yesterday. I also want copies of all the statements taken at the time, together with the post-mortem results. Scan those into the computer and e-mail them to Mexican Pete. I’m going to Westlea to meet him, along with Curran and the forensics guys. I’ll tell Ramirez to expect your e-mail. I want him to review the original pathologist’s findings. He may spot something that was missed in the first instance. Then I’ll have a word with Tom and see if he can give me cover for the next five days, so you can meet up with the galloping major. Will that do you?’

‘Thanks,
Mike.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

Nash looked at Viv. ‘You’re back on protection duty. We know Gary’s innocent, but there are plenty who still believe he’s guilty. And I reckon the violence has been stirred to conceal the real target.’ Nash turned to Vickers. ‘You understand that? No more swanning off on your own. DC Pearce will stay with you for the time being. Later, I’m going to try for extra backup.’

‘I understand.’

‘Right, I’m off to the Westlea.’

‘Mind if I tag along, Mike?’

Nash turned to Becky. ‘Yes, if you want to. It may be boring and tedious though.’

‘It’ll save them having to send someone else to cover the story.’

 

A team of forensic technicians was donning hazmat suits, supervised by Curran. He ducked under the incident tape to speak to Nash. ‘There’s a problem with toxic fumes and asbestos. It’s going to be slower than we thought. We’re waiting on Mexican Pete.’

‘If you see him first, tell him I need a word.’

As Curran left, Nash was hailed.
‘Ayup Mr Nash. This another of your haireem?’

They turned. ‘Hello, Jonas. No, this is Becky Pollard from the Gazette.’

‘Watch out for this feller, he’s a wicked man,’ Turner told her. ‘Allus got a beautiful girl hanging round ’im, he has. Don’t know how he does it.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Nash changed the subject swiftly.

‘Come to watch ’em recover t’ body.’ Turner surveyed the blackened shell. ‘It’s Appleyard you’re looking for, ain’t it? Bought this place for a song. Much good it did ’im.’

‘Do you know something?’

‘You hear things.’ Turner lowered his voice. ‘They all knew he was inside.’

‘Who do you mean?’ Becky beat Nash to the question by a short head.

‘Them as lives round here.’

‘What’s your point?’ Becky asked, but Nash had already worked it out.

‘They knew cos they were told to keep clear. That’s what I heard.’

‘You mean they knew it was going to happen?’

Turner nodded. ‘Best not say any more. Not that I know anything,’ he added hastily.

They watched the old man wander off. ‘So the arson theory’s right,’ Nash said.

Becky shuddered. ‘It’s the sort of thing you only see on films. You don’t believe it can happen in your own town.’

‘The
Westlea has always been a law to itself, with the Fletcher clan as sheriffs. We’re the enemy round here. By “we”, I mean the police.’

‘Does that worry you?’

‘It never used to. But this is new. What’s worse is it’s organized. And the gangs running amok haven’t the collective brains to realize they’re being manipulated.’

Nash broke off as he saw a car pull up. ‘Care to meet our tame pathologist?’

‘Is that Mexican Pete?’

‘It is. I must get a word with him before he gets into fancy dress.’

Nash introduced Becky.

‘We’ve already spoken on the telephone,’ she told Ramirez as they shook hands.

‘Have we?’

‘Yes, when you rang Mike. You referred to me as the Bride of Dracula.’

‘Hardly surprising, the way Nash collects corpses.’ He pointed to the building. ‘Only one in there?’

‘That’s all.’

‘He’s losing his touch. I’ve known days when he’s been close to double figures,’ Ramirez told Becky.

‘Clara’s sending you some old PM documents. I’d value your opinion. Now, get your space suit on,’ Nash told him.

As Ramirez turned they heard a loud crack, followed swiftly by two more. Ramirez turned back to Nash. ‘What was ...?’

Nash flung himself at Becky and pushed her to the ground. ‘Get down!’ he shouted to everyone within earshot. His voice carried, even over the sound of two more reports.

‘What ...?’ Becky gasped.

‘Gunfire!
Somebody’s shooting at us. From over there.’ Nash waved towards a clump of trees. It was impossible to get close to the shooter without serious risk. Becky felt him move, and glanced down. Nash had pulled a pistol from his holster. The sight should have comforted her. It didn’t. She looked across towards the ruined building. Firemen and forensics experts were lying prone. Wounded? Dead? Or taking cover?

Ramirez hissed, ‘I thought it was too good to last. You couldn’t be content with one corpse, could you?’

‘I hope that’s all there will be,’ Nash answered grimly. He hailed Curran. ‘Doug? Keep your men on the deck. I’m going to discourage our sniper friend.’

‘Alright, Mike.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Becky whispered.

‘Fire a few rounds into those trees. That should scare him off.’ Nash wriggled to one side before passing Becky his mobile. ‘Dial short code 1, you’ll get Clara. Tell her what’s going on. Ask for an ARU.’

Becky was still fumbling with the phone when a loud report sounded in her ear. She almost dropped the mobile. Nash fired three more shots at intervals of twenty seconds or so.

There was a long silence after Becky finished speaking. Nash rolled over. ‘I’m going to get up. I think he’s scarpered, but there’s only one way to find out. Everyone, stay down!’ He got cautiously to his feet. There was no reaction. The silence became oppressive.
Still no movement, no fresh outburst. ‘He’s gone.’

Becky looked up. ‘How can you be so sure?’

‘If he’d been going to fire again, he’d have done so by now.’

Becky scrambled to her feet. Around them, others were following their lead. ‘How do you work that out?’

‘If he was still there he’d have fired at me.’ Nash noticed Becky’s puzzled expression. ‘I was the target.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Because I’ve stirred them up. And you know what that means?’

Becky shook her head.

‘It means I’m getting close. If I’d any remaining doubts, they’ve just settled them.’

 

Chapter twenty one

 

They were sitting in the car. ‘Tom, Mike Nash. Yes, I’m fine. Nobody hurt.’ Nash grinned at Becky. ‘A couple of the forensic lads might have to change their underpants. The gunman was in a small wood alongside the fire scene. Been watching too many films, I reckon. No way he could hit anybody at that range.

‘I’m ringing because Clara wants some leave. If you could lend me DC Andrews I’d be able to manage.’ Nash listened for a few moments. ‘That’s great. I also want an armed officer in Vickers’ house. I’ve got evidence that he didn’t kill Stacey Fletcher. Would you ask the chief to agree that?’

Nash ended the call and smiled at Becky. ‘I told you this would be boring.’

‘Yes, I haven’t been shot at for at least quarter of an hour.
A really slow day. How long do you think it’ll be before forensics finds anything?’

‘It might not happen today. A lot depends on where the body is. It has to be done slowly to avoid disturbing evidence.’

‘I’ll nip back home and e-mail my copy to the paper. Will you still be here in a couple of hours?’

‘I imagine so. Why?’

‘I’ll bring you a flask of coffee.’

 

It was nearer three hours before Becky called him. ‘Any luck?’

‘They’ve located the body. Fortunately there’s no debris to move. We might be clear in under an hour.’

‘Does that mean you don’t want the coffee?’

Was there a touch of disappointment in her voice, or was that wishful thinking? ‘I’ll pass on the coffee if you’ll keep me company. Then we could go for a meal.’

‘I’ll be down in quarter of an hour.’

Nash was on the phone when she arrived. ‘I see. Well, thanks for trying. No, I’ll have to manage.
Can’t be helped.’

He lowered the phone and smiled at her. It was a feeble gesture. ‘What’s matter?’

‘That obvious, am I?’

‘You look as if the horse you bet your last
fiver on fell at the first fence.’

‘Nearly as bad.
Pratt needs higher clearance for armed protection for Vickers. Unfortunately your godmother’s away at a conference for a couple of days. She left about an hour before Tom rang her office. The request got diverted to King. He took great delight in refusing it.’

‘You’ve never explained why he has such a down on you. Not properly.’

‘You’d not believe me if I tell you.’

‘Try me.’

Before Nash could begin, Ramirez appeared. ‘I’ve supervised the removal of one body,’ he told Nash. ‘Badly burned, but there should be some recoverable DNA. Failing which, dental records should confirm identity.’

‘Cause of death?’

Ramirez stared at him. ‘Too long in the oven, I imagine. I haven’t thought to look for anything else. I’ll know more when I’ve done the PM.’

They watched the pathologist leave. ‘I’m ravenous. Fancy a Chinese?’ Nash suggested.

‘Fine by me.’

‘Let’s try the Few Men Chew.’

‘The what?’

‘Fu Manchu. Local nickname is Few Men Chew.’

Becky groaned.

 

During their meal, she reminded him about King.

‘He’s come into the area and wants to alter the way things are done.’

‘No doubt you’ll tell me when you’re ready or it’s appropriate.’

Nash saw her
sceptical look. ‘That’s what Clara says when she doesn’t believe me.’

Becky nodded.
‘As long as you know. What will you do about protecting Vickers?’ she asked as he was paying the bill.

‘If there’s no backup, I’ll have to do it.’

‘You’ll get no sleep. You can’t do that.’

‘I’m only thinking of the next couple of days. When the chief’s back, I’ll go over King’s head.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

‘No way, Becks,’ Nash said firmly.

‘Why not?’

‘I can’t allow a civilian to put themselves in harm’s way.’

‘Suit yourself. I’ll walk up and down outside Vickers’ house all night.’

‘That’s blackmail.’

‘Alright, arrest me.’

‘Don’t tempt me.’

‘You put me in a cell for the night and I’ll spend the time writing my piece for the Gazette.’

‘More blackmail.’ Nash knew he was beaten. ‘Very well, but if there’s trouble, you keep out of the way. Understand?’

Becky smiled. ‘Of course.’ When he wasn’t looking, she uncrossed her fingers.

 

Pearce opened the door. Vickers was hovering behind him. ‘I’m here to protect you overnight,’ Nash told him. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘And she’s here to protect me.’

‘Blimey, Mike! You sure that’s wise?’

‘No, Viv, I’m not. But I don’t have much choice.’

The house was quiet after Pearce left. ‘What are we going to do?’ Becky asked.

‘The problem I had before was keeping awake,’ Nash told her.

‘I could always put some music on,’ Gary suggested.

‘Got any Status Quo?’

‘How about some Rolling Stones or Queen?’
Becky joined in.

Vickers shuddered. ‘No chance. I said music.’

Vickers went to bed shortly before 2.30. Nash and Becky kept awake by talking and drinking black coffee. The Bishopton officer arrived shortly after 6.30 a.m. ‘Superintendent Pratt ordered me here early,’ he told Nash.

‘Keep your guard up. You shouldn’t have any trouble from Vickers. First sign of bother, you hit the alarm button. Understood?’

Nash dropped Becky at her flat before returning home. She yawned as she asked, ‘Will you manage a few hours’ sleep?’

‘I’ll grab a couple of hours. Then I’ll have another nap at teatime.’

‘Come round here when you’ve finished work and I’ll make dinner. That way you can sleep until it’s time to eat. Then we can go on to Grove Road.’

Any hope Nash had that the day would bring a respite from his problems was swept aside when he entered the CID suite. ‘I’ve had Creepy on the phone,’ Pearce greeted him. ‘I told him I didn’t know what time you were due. Don’t think that pleased him much. You’ve to phone him the minute you arrive.’

‘You ring him. Ask him what he wants. Don’t bother to be polite,’ he added as he went into his office.

Pearce came in and handed Nash a mug of coffee.
‘Creepy’s on his way. He said you’ve not to go out.’

Nash glanced at his watch. The journey from
Netherdale would take about half an hour. ‘I’m going to phone Mexican Pete. Then I’ll go for the sandwiches.’

‘But you’ll be out
...oh, I see.’ Pearce grinned.

Nash
dialled the pathologist. ‘Have you done the post-mortem yet, Professor?’

‘Just finished.
I was about to ring you. I’m assuming the victim is Appleyard, certainly a male of about the right age. There was no carbon monoxide in his lungs.’

‘That means he was dead before the fire started?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Any idea how?’

‘It could be down to the bullet hole in his forehead.’

‘That often does it,’ Nash agreed.

‘I’m sending the bullet to ballistics.’

Nash hung up. ‘I’m going to talk to Curran,’ he told Pearce. ‘I’ll go straight from there for the food.’

‘I’ve got the forensic results,’ the fire officer told him. ‘The fire was arson. Which makes it murder.’

‘It was already murder.’

 

Crawley was pacing up and down Nash’s office. ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded.

‘Buying my lunch.’

‘I’m here to conduct an investigation into your conduct. To be specific, the reckless discharge of your firearm into a crowd of people. That is the preliminary to a board of enquiry which will assess your fitness for duty. Pending that, you’re suspended from duty. Give me your pistol and your warrant card.’

Nash rounded his desk and sat down. He took out his sandwich. ‘Close the door on your way out,’ he replied.

‘What! Did you hear what I said?’

‘Yes. I’m attempting to ignore it.’ Nash lifted the sandwich to take a bite; then stopped. ‘Go on, disappear.’

Crawley was speechless, rooted to the spot. His face was scarlet. Nash sighed and put the sandwich down. ‘You’ve no jurisdiction over CID. You’ve no jurisdiction over me. You’ve no jurisdiction in Helmsdale. You’ve no written authority. Now clear off and let me eat my lunch.’

As Crawley was hovering indecisively, Nash added, ‘And tell DCC King to do his own dirty work in future.’

The office door had been open throughout. Although Crawley had attempted to keep his voice down, Nash had spoken loud enough for Pearce to hear. As the visitor blundered out of the CID suite, Pearce came in. His eyes were wide with shock.

‘Listen carefully, Viv. If things go pear-shaped, here’s what I want you to do. Explain to Clara exactly what’s happened and tell her to activate our plan. She’ll know what you mean. And if Becky Pollard from the Gazette asks any questions, you answer them in full. On the record. Clear? Anything she wants to know will be for publication. Now let me explain.’

If Pearce had been surprised before, he was dumbfounded when Nash finished.

 

By mid afternoon Nash had made a decision. The spur was a phone call from Pratt. ‘I hear you’ve been having words with Inspector Crawley.’

‘I told him to clear off, if that’s what you mean.’

‘He came back with his tail between his legs. Tried to get hold of King, who’s away somewhere,
then he came whingeing to me. I told him he was out of line, but he said he was obeying orders.’

‘King’s orders?’

‘That’s what he said. I’ve countermanded the orders, so I suppose there’ll be a standoff with King when he gets back.’

‘Maybe not,’ Nash told him. ‘Leave it with me.’

‘Anyway, the good news is that Lisa Andrews will be with you tomorrow.’

‘Good. I’ve got a job for her.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I want her with me when I pull
Gemma Fletcher in.’

‘About Tucker’s murder?’

‘Tucker’s, yes. But I also want to question her about her involvement in the murder of her daughter.’

 

When Nash rang Becky’s doorbell, he was almost out on his feet. She ordered him to go and use her bed.

It was a measure of his weariness that he didn’t argue and was asleep almost instantly. His last sensation was the scent of her perfume. He seemed to have been asleep only minutes when she woke him. ‘Coffee,’ she called brightly. He didn’t respond, so she set the mug on the bedside table and shook his shoulder gently.

Nash stirred and turned over, blinking in the light. ‘What time is it?’

‘Half nine.
I called DC Pearce. He’s gone to cover for you. That way you can have a shower to freshen up before dinner. Pearce said there was no need to rush.’

‘You’re an angel. I need another
favour though.’ He explained what he needed.

‘I’ll do it whilst you’re showering,’ she promised.

When he emerged, Becky was setting the table. ‘I spoke to Aunt Gloria. She’s going to deal with the problem in the morning, but she says you mustn’t worry. You have her full backing. From now on, you report directly to either her, when she’s back, or Superintendent Pratt.’

‘Was that all?’

‘Er ... yes, just about.’

Nash raised an eyebrow.

‘She made a couple of snide remarks about you being here, until I set the record straight.’

‘I hope she believed you.’

‘I told her not to worry. I can take care of myself.’

‘I know that. You’re also pretty good at taking care of me, for which I’m more than grateful.’

‘You can show your gratitude by relaxing and eating your meal,’ Becky ordered.

 

Pearce reported that everything had been quiet. ‘Except that Gary’s been torturing me with more of what he calls music. I’m off now. Don’t rush in tomorrow, boss. If King or Crawley start shouting for you I’ll put them off.’

‘That isn’t going to happen, but if it does, don’t take any nonsense from either of them. DC Andrews will be joining us in the morning. She’s seconded to Helmsdale until this case is over. I’ve a job lined up for her. Give her the files to read.’

Shortly after Pearce left, Vickers announced he was going to bed. From the kitchen, they heard him climb the stairs followed by the sound of the toilet flushing. As the water flow ceased, Nash thought he heard another, different noise. His head jerked up. ‘Did you hear that?’

Becky nodded.

‘Stay here.’ He reached for his pistol as he tiptoed to the dining room door and eased it open. The room was silent, undisturbed. Through the window the street light shone brightly. He heard another sound. Of a window being opened? The direction seemed to be the lounge. Front or back? If the intruder was armed, that split second could be critical. Nash guessed the back; less chance of being disturbed.

BOOK: Minds That Hate
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