Chapter 9

A Lot to Think About

Thurstan had decanted his Chinese meal onto a plate and poured himself a glass of Irish whiskey when the phone rang. The sound of Lizzie’s voice brought joy to his face.

“Hi, sweets,” she began, apologetically – it didn’t bode well. “Listen, “I know you had plans for this weekend, but I need to cancel. They’ve got us going on a team-building exercise in the Lake District and it’s not something I can get out of. I know you’ll be disappointed.”

She wasn’t wrong, her simple presence would have made things so much better right now, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Also, it’s really important for me,” she continued. “They’ve just let us know this course isn’t only about finance tracking, it’s also about becoming each force’s qualified ‘lead’ for these matters. Please don’t be angry,” she pleaded.

Internally, he sighed, yet gave nothing away. “That’s ok, love. I understand and I’m not angry. I know this is important to you. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I’ll get over it,” he reassured her, then offered, “If you want any survival tips, I have a few. They might come in handy.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I’ll need them. We’ll be staying in a hotel. Or at least, that’s what they’ve intimated. What about you, sweetie? How’re things at your end?”

“Ticking along. I got a visit from the Chief today. He assured me of my future.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

“Not really.” A bitter laugh escaped. “He said I should start looking for another job otherwise the only thing he was offering me was the Central Property Office.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Exactly.”

“Everything will be alright, sweetheart.”

A moment of silence, then he whispered, “I miss you so bloody much.”

The next day, Thurstan headed for Wales and a special little place from which he’d hoped they could’ve hiked a hill or mountain using one of the easier tracks. After checking out the room, he went to the bar and sat on a bench overlooking the estuary, enjoying the sunshine. In this sort of weather, it could have been Italy, and it would have been perfect had she been there. At the end of the night, he realised he was possibly drinking a little too much yet rationalised he was drinking for two.

****

Monday found him locking his car and staring at Sutton Box, trying to find the face that Eleanor Rigby had last kept in the jar next to her front door.

“Morning, Boss. I’ll make you a coffee in a minute, but the good news is, I did some more internet searches on Saturday and found a relative of Doris Farmer. She lives in Southport and is happy to talk to me, so I’m nipping up there later on. Nice weekend?” Gandalph looked at him, expectantly.

Thurstan replied, “Not as nice as it could have been, but pleasant enough, under the circumstances.”

Sat in the office alone at midday, he answered the phone. It was Colin the driver.

“Are you free to come up and see my uncle?  I’m with him now and he’s having a pretty good day, really quite lucid,” he said, with an element of surprise in his voice. 

Given the address, the DCI looked up the details on his phone, double-checked with the wall map, pocketed his notes and set off.

The sheltered housing place was quite new. A cafe, reception desk and care providers took up a good portion of the ground floor whilst the rest of the building was self-contained flats. He walked across the pleasant inner garden courtyard and up the stairwell opposite.

Colin answered the apartment’s door and ushered him into the living room where introductions were exchanged. Thurstan sat where old Jack told him to, Colin went to make a cup of tea.

“So, you want to know about this thing I’ve been mithering our Colin about? He’s a good lad, make a beltin’ bobby if you’ve got any influence.”

Thurstan smiled. “Sadly, my influence in the Police is well on the wane. I upset the Chief Constable. But I have to say, I’m impressed with his determination.”

Jack replied, “Oh, well, it was worth a try.”

The DCI accepted the floral design cup and saucer, clicked in a sweetener and stirred as he listened to Colin’s Uncle Jack recount his booking in of Lennie Turner.

“The first thing that struck me about him was the lack of any emotion. I mean, you would expect something, even a denial maybe, but no. He didn’t volunteer anything, just answered what I asked him. When I told him he could have a phone call, I expected him to say he wanted to call his mum or dad. I’d got his home phone number from him already, but he gave me another number. I asked him who would answer. He said he didn’t know. Obviously, I asked why he was going to call it then and he said he’d been told if he ever got into trouble, he should phone it. I assumed it must be a solicitor’s number but, as we weren’t at that stage yet, I just noted it down on the custody record.

“The thing was, little bells started to ring in my head, son. I remembered a case somewhere where the CID had interviewed some lad who said he didn’t need a solicitor and got him to admit to murder. It turned out, at the trial, the defendant was a bit simple and shouldn’t have been questioned without a proper grown-up or solicitor there. You may remember it?”

Thurstan nodded, he knew it well. It had been mentioned when he’d taken his custody officer training as a young sergeant.

Jack continued, “You see, that’s why I asked the arresting bobby to get in touch with Social Services, to see if they’d had any dealings or had any background information they could let us know.” He stopped and took a sip of his tea.

Thurstan looked up from his cup. “And that’s why you told the relief custody officer he wasn’t to be interviewed whilst you were away taking your refreshment break?”

Jack nodded. “That’s right. When I got back, I’d passed these two plainclothes officers slinking away from the custody office. I’d had no personal dealings with them before, but I’d seen them around, now and again. Not often though.

“They just always struck me as being cocky. I’m sure you know the type; full of themselves and overconfident. I asked Jed, the young sergeant who’d had taken over, if they’d been in and he said they just wanted a quick look at young Leonard, to see if they knew him.

“Now, Jed said he let them go down the cells because he’d thought he could get their details later; he was busy with another prisoner and didn’t think it would matter. He said they weren’t there long. But he never got their names, see. You’ve been a custody officer, haven’t you?”

The inclination of Thurstan’s head conveyed his knowledge and the conversation continued.

Jack: “Well, as you know, we were supposed to stop the likes of the CID doing what they’d always done, swanning down the cell block doing impromptu questioning and all that. Jed said he’d seen them come back into the main office but a minute later when he’d finished what he was doing, they’d gone altogether.”

Thurstan: “As I understand it, Leonard was later questioned by St Helens detectives and basically gave a no comment interview?”

Jack: “That’s right, son, and the Social Services had never heard of him.”

Thurstan: “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Jack: “Well, did I mention about his phone call?”

Thurstan: “You said he was entitled to one.”

Jack: “Ahh, then I didn’t. No, what I mean is, I called that number for him. He was standing in front of me, not long before he went to interview. It was engaged. I tried again and it was still engaged. Later on, I called it for him again, before he went back to his cell, and it just kept ringing. No answer. We gave it twenty minutes and got him out again but the same thing. It just kept ringing; no one answered it. I tried it four or five times over the next half hour, but it kept ringing out. Then, about five or ten minutes later, it was engaged again, and it stayed that way. I know because I kept trying to make contact every now and then during the night and it was always engaged.”

Thurstan: “What time was that, can you remember?”

Jack looked as if he was counting in his head then replied, “Probably about two in the morning, I should think.”

Thurstan: “Interesting.”

Jack: “What’s more interesting is – it was a call box.”

Thurstan: “How do you know?”

Jack: “I know this might seem daft, but I’d started to think, over the next days, about the telephone number and what he’d said. So, I had our Gary, my cousin, trace the number. He worked for British Telecom. That number was for a phone kiosk on one of the estates, outside some shops. I can’t remember where though.”

Thurstan: “Do you think Gary might remember?”

Jack: “I doubt it, lad. He passed on twenty years ago, now.”

Jack’s straight delivery and deadpan face made a quiet smile scuttle across Thurstan’s lips before he said, “Can you describe the two cocky officers? I don’t suppose you can after all this time?”

Jack considered the question in a serious manner then declared, “No, but as far as I can remember, one had a moustache, and the other one didn’t.” He chuckled. “That narrowed things down for you. Almost fits the entire police force.”

Thurstan smiled back. “Anything else? Anything at all?”

Jack rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “Aye, there is. I’d almost forgot. After the lad killed himself in Risley, I mentioned these two characters to my Superintendent. I said I thought they were on some sort of regional drug squad. He said he’d make enquiries and get back to me. He was a good sort and true to his word. He told me he’d spoken to their supervisor who said they had no officers operating in our area that evening or night and they had accounted for everyone.”

The DCI looked back at the man he was interviewing. In the short time they’d been talking he’d become quite fond of Jack, and it was difficult to believe he was on the downward slope of dementia. It made him feel a little sad.

“Have I got it right, you would have retired not too long after all this?” Thurstan asked, shaking the feeling off.

Jack held out his cup and saucer for Colin to collect as he replied, “A year later, I retired. But it’s always been there. It comes to mind every so often and I’d be grateful if you could look into it; if nothing else, then for my peace of mind. You know, the more I thought about it over the years, the more I couldn’t help but think there was more to this than met the eye.”

Thurstan finished his now lukewarm tea and, standing up, thanked them for their time and was about to leave when he thought of something else. “When Leonard gave you the phone box number, was it written down on anything, something he had to refer to?”

“No, he knew it off the top of his head.”

Returning to Sutton, he discussed the issues raised in Jack’s story with his DC.

“The telephone box is a bit of an oddity,” Thurstan mused. “It’s engaged then it isn’t, then it rings out repeatedly, then it’s engaged all night.”

Gandalph thought about it whilst he chewed his way through a caramel toffee. “You did say it was outside some shops?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your answer then. All those estates had a row of shops with flats above them. When Lennie was arrested, the local chippy there would still have been open, possibly even the off licence. There’d be people there to use the phone. Later, they’ve all buggered off home or to burgle some house, so it rings out when Jack calls.”

“And when it’s permanently engaged?” Thurstan was almost sure he knew where Gandalph was going.

“It’ll be someone from the flats nearest the kiosk. Got work, early morning start, can’t sleep because this thing keeps ringing, so they go down and take it off the hook. Solves their problem.”

The DCI thought it over. Lennie had been given the telephone number as a comfort blanket. Whoever provided it would probably have given him some nonsensical sentence to say and told him to just put the phone down which would cover the unlikely event of a curious passerby picking up.

Later that evening, as he sat and comfort-watched a DVD from his collection, Lizzie called.

“Hello, Gorgeous, how did the team building go?”

“It was awful. They had us sleeping in tents and we had to wash in a cold stream. If I ever see rope, oil drums and telegraph poles in one place again I’ll probably have a seizure.”

“Well, you did it and at least you’re back in a civilised environment.”

Her exasperation was evident from the sound of the howling gale her breath created hitting the phone. “No, we’re not. They’ve taken us to some mangy old Army camp in the middle of nowhere and made us do an assault course. Twice! There were pits full of water you had to cross on ropes. It was impossible! You needed to be a circus act to not fall in!”

“I take it you got wet. Are you sure you weren’t with the Navy?” he chuckled.

“I know a bloody sailor when I see one, Thurstan! These were Army types. If there was such a thing as a national shouting and screaming team these people would all be the bloody captain.”

“Never mind, it’s all over now. I take it you’ll be sleeping in old huts tonight at the camp. That’s something to look forward to. At least there’ll be hot water.”

“You’d like to think, but there isn’t, and there’s ten of us girls having to sleep in the same hut as fifteen men who’ve started a farting competition. It’s a nightmare.”

He attempted a subtle change of direction. “I suppose all your walking gear will need a good clean when you get back home?”

“No, it won’t. We didn’t get to use our own things. They gave us some Army stuff. It smelled as if it was last used in World War Two by people digging latrines. To make matters worse, tomorrow we have to walk across the hills to get back to where we were before we left it.”

At last, some relatively good news. Lizzie was good at map reading. “Your map skills are pretty brilliant, sweets, shouldn’t be any trouble.” He hoped his tone was soothing enough to calm her.

“Thurstan, sweetheart,” she spluttered. “You’ve no idea what I’m dealing with here. There are people in this bunch who have a twisted, almost perverted, comprehension of their own abilities and leadership skills. I really don’t want to punch someone in order to wrestle a map and compass from their cold limp hands, but I’m prepared to do it if I have to. I’ve no wish to spend any longer than is absolutely necessary tramping around the back of beyond.” She paused momentarily. “Look, I must go. The last bloke has just left the showers so it’s time for us girls. I’m really not looking forward to seeing what state they’ve left it in.”

A female voice called her name, momentarily her hand covered the phone. “Wow! They’ve turned on the hot water, gotta go, sweets!”