The Canonsfield Office and Clerical Workers Union had a fairly modern office building in the centre of the City. Roger Carmody was the President and he had a very efficient secretary, Constance Lever who knew her way around the corridors of local politics in addition to all the administrative procedures to keep the headquarters running smoothly.
Elizabeth McGregor had been a Shop Steward in the Personnel Department of the City Council and was very ambitious. Her family had always been active in the Union movement and her father had taken part in some of the marches, which had garnered publicity because of the damaging force used by Police to break up their demonstrations.
She was supremely critical of the Union leadership and suspected more than a working relationship between Carmody and his Secretary. She had applied for one of the Counselling positions at Union headquarters and won the competition. There was no suggestion of any office liaisons with Elizabeth. She wore her hair in a bun and skewered any male approaches.
When the sound of modern rock and roll music sometimes reached her ears or she saw some of the young women in their short man made material dresses, she put feminine thoughts immediately out of her mind. She was confident of her own abilities and had been determined to climb as high as she could.
This did not escape the notice of Constance Lever who maintained a very sensitive alarm system for any danger to the management structure.
"That McGregor is going to challenge for your position at the next Annual Meeting Roger. Even if she doesn’t win it’s going to start people thinking and you don’t want that."
Carmody not only enjoyed the steamy activities when he travelled on Union business and took Lever with him, but there were also the very nice meals that he charged as expenses. "No we certainly can’t have that."
He waited with some confidence because he knew that Lever would have some suggestions to deal with the threat.
"I think she is a determined woman who would be a lot better off if she found a man...but that’s not likely to happen. We have got to divert her somehow and aim her at something else. There is a City Council election coming up. Why don’t I ask her if she has ever thought of being a Councillor? If she shows some interest I could tell her that we would throw the whole of our General Election apparatus behind her."
Carmody looked possessively at his nice office furniture, "Do you think she would go for it. I suppose she would think that the Union has a genuine interest in having a voice on Council. Yes see if she will run Connie. It’s worth a chance."
McGregor sniffed at the suggestion like an animal scenting the bait in a trap, but the more she thought about it the anticipation of ‘Councillor’ after her name made any ulterior motives insignificant. The people who worked in the campaign of the Labour hopeful trying to win a seat in Parliament when General Elections occurred, threw themselves into canvassing for a Council seat as a welcome activity and good practice for the one that was shortly anticipated.
Placards with McGregor’s face on them sprouted in the gardens of the faithful and workers went from door to door handing out leaflets with her name, and a platform quickly produced by Union Headquarters. There were vague promises on different issues but a strong commitment to improve relations between police and the public, something which McGregor had insisted should be included.
It should not have been a big surprise when she won and as there was only one other woman Councillor she found herself appointed to the Watch Committee.
The Chief Constable was wearing a strained smile when he sat at the table in the City Hall. A meeting room there was always used by the Watch Committee. Basil Trubman chaired the meetings if he was present.
Trubman rapped the table to start the meeting, "The Chief Constable has asked for this emergency meeting because a decision has to be made. Perhaps you will outline the circumstances."
Trying to look confident the Chief Constable pitched a low voice and said, "We are dealing with a murder and some thought has to be given to bringing outside resources to run the investigation."
Trubman said in a silky way, "Who have we got if we do it ourselves?"
Now the Chief Constable scented trouble, "We have a detective sergeant and have given him some assistance in addition to the detective inspector."
He was certain that trouble loomed on the horizon when Stevens another Councillor asked, "I thought that there were two sergeants and a detective constable as well as the detective inspector.
Does the detective inspector carry out some of the investigations?"
Trubman really increased his anxiety when he said ruminatively, "I suppose we could always ask him to attend and put those questions to him."In an almost strangled voice the Chief Constable said, "When one of the detective sergeants retired we decided not to fill the position."
There were widespread protests from the people at the table. "Really sir that is the kind of decision that this Committee should have made."
The Chief Constable was acutely aware of that, and not prepared for a murder to lay bare the thin C.I.D. line. Trubman stepped in and had to take the unusual step of banging down his gavel for silence.
"That is a matter that we will go into at a future date sir and the Committee will demand a full explanation. Now has anyone anything to say about using outside people for which I expect the City will be asked to pay."
McGregor raised her hand. "I have something to say about the disgraceful way in which the police are treating the public and allowing vicious assaults to go unpunished."
Trubman looked at her with some surprise, "The matter under discussion madam is whether we ask Scotland Yard for assistance or let our own force deal with the murder."
"It’s the Police who are letting the youth of our City get beaten up," was the unrepentant comment from McGregor.
Stevens broke in, "Why don’t we let our people do it until it looks as if they need help and then make the decision."
Trubman quickly looked around the table. "The detective sergeant that we have is very experienced and unless there are any strong objections from the Chief Constable...that is what we will do!"
The Chief Constable ground his teeth silently, promising to have the Superintendent sink with him if the eventual Committee enquiry attached blame. He shook his head to show he would not challenge Trubman’s decision.
Derris called Compton in to his office. "Daniel the brass is like a bear with a sore head and looking for someone to distract the Watch Committee who seem to think that we can work miracles. Sit down and give me a list of what you will want in the way of people and equipment."
Something which Compton had not expected was when Derris added, "If you find something that I can help with I will do my best to get the old brain going again."
Martin found himself chasing around for uniform roster lists, phone numbers for telephone installation and any number of things which Compton threw out in machine gun rapidity. By that evening the C.I.D office which had been almost deserted for the last few weeks, had cork boards and people putting in extra telephone lines.
There were binders spread out on a long desk and it helped that Compton had such good relationships with the people providing these things that they arrived so quickly. Derris had looked with some awe at the list of personnel that Compton had listed but had to phone the Superintendent and endure the shouting which resulted.
With a final snarl that individual said, "Give him what he wants but if we suffer adverse results from the lack of policing then he is going to be the one who carries the can!"
On the following morning Martin was in the office shortly after eight am but Compton was already there typing away rapidly with his jacket uncharacteristically draped over the back of the chair and his tie pulled down from an open collar.
"Run down to the canteen and see if they will bring up an urn with some tea for nine o’clock constable and they will have to keep it topped up for us. They can give us a bill at the end of the week. When you come back put a label
that says ‘personnel’ on one of the binders and you can stick in one of these pages which has a space for name, rank and date...time in...time out. You can book them in as they arrive."
Seeing the way Martin’s face had fallen he added, "Don’t worry son. I hope to assign people to take over the paper work and you will still be out on the street with me."
The office started to fill and when Bridgeman arrived, some time was spent pinning up some of his photographs on the corkboard.
"Stay please Bill and you can go back to your dungeon when I have got things started."
Satisfied that everyone had arrived and Martin had checked them all in Compton held the personnel binder and looked at the two women police.
"Which of you is Thompson?" The older of the two raised her hand. Looking at the younger woman he said, "Then you must be Bisset."
She nodded. "Look at her carefully all of you because she is going to look after the records which believe me are probably the most important part of any enquiry of this kind. You will see her when you come in and go out and you will give her any witness statements or notes that you have made. She will alert me to anything of importance. If I find that you have not given her all the things that she asks for you will answer to me!"
He paused to let the implied threat sink in. Bisset had looked disappointed when she first heard what he had to say but brightened considerably when he stressed the importance of her duties.
"Before we discuss the case let me tell you something that will also bring me down on you like a ton of bricks. There is going to be intense interest about what we are doing. The press and your brother officers." He paused. "Senior and junior, are all going to try to get you to tell them about the case. Not only will you not tell them anything but you will refer any questions to me. No one except the people in the personnel binder are going to be allowed in here and the door will be shut at all times." Compton gave a meaningful look at Derris and he bobbed his head.
"Now a girl’s body was found in the field they call Canon’s field. The one that supposedly gave this City its name but I don’t have time to go into the history today. We will not have precise details until later today after the autopsy but it looks very much like a knife killed her and she suffered other injuries which I will guess occurred before she was killed. A young couple found her and I have no idea why they would want to go into the field at that time of night," he paused to let the laughter subside, "but I want Detective Inspector Derris and Constable Thompson to interview them this morning and try to get them to keep things to themselves.
The rest of you are City officers and therefore you know where the young set spend their time if they are not working. Bill has brought photos of the victim’s face and see if you can get her identified. If you are lucky, bring the informant back here and send a message to the wireless car to find me. I will keep an eye on the police box lights as well. Don’t try to follow up on your own."
He read the names of two uniform officers from the personnel binder. "You two can go home at lunch time and change into plain clothes. Come back on at 7 pm and split up the places where they play these modern records and do a bit of dancing. I want you all in at nine am tomorrow morning...including you two. I am a past master at spotting unnecessary expense but if you have to buy the odd drink...keep a receipt."
Bridgeman stood by the door as they filed out and handed out the photographs. "Proper little sergeant major you are Daniel," but the cynicism was mellowed by the beaming smile. "A pleasure to see a master at work."
Compton began to gather up the rest of his typing but was watching Martin who had opened cupboards to show Bisset where supplies were kept.
Compton handed some of the typed sheets to her. "I hope you can handle the typing because after you have put labels on the binders for the headings on these you can make extra copies. We will wait here while you go down to see the Reserve and give him the extra phone numbers which have been allocated and tell him to alert the wireless car to find me if you want me and to put up the box lights. Here’s the key to the office door if you have to pop out for a minute or two. See if someone who comes in can watch things while you get yourself something for lunch and thank them for the tea. We will want an urn tomorrow morning too.
This lad and I will let you know where we are going to be most of the time and will ring in regularly. When you are back we will be going to the hospital and then our own enquiries for a little while."
When she had left them alone in the office, Compton pushed up his tie and put his jacket back on. "I hope I haven’t forgotten anything. I phoned Rosie earlier and we will see her at lunchtime...in the City not out at Ivy’s. Not nice when you know they are hoping you trip over your... shoe laces."
When Bisset came back into the office she was carrying something and Martin looked at it curiously.
"Telephone diary. We can keep important numbers in it." As they were walking down the stairs Martin seemed to be about to say something.
"Come on lad, I am not a mind reader. What have you thought of?"
"It’s just that you may underestimate some of the street policemen sergeant."
In an unusual gesture Compton patted him on the shoulder.
"That’s something I never do lad. If they work hard for you it makes you feel very humble. When Aunt Nellie’s cat gets run over or someone is looking in their bedroom window at night...who do they go to? The local policeman and he has to treat whatever it is as important because they rely on him...or her."
The mortuary at the hospital was a cold and harshly lit tiled room and both men felt a certain amount of reluctance to approach the body which lay on a galvanised slab.
The Pathologist was waiting, "I did not start gentlemen because I wanted you to see the injuries before I start cutting. These slashes more than cuts were almost certainly inflicted before death. The stab which caused her to bleed to death internally is probably here," and he pointed to a spot underneath the ribs. "Her face is relatively untouched and that might help your efforts to identify her. You can see the small burns."
In answer to Compton’s quiet question, Rogers said, "Late teens or early twenties. She smoked." He held up a hand with the bitten fingernails, which showed nicotine stains. "There is an appendix scar ...and she was not a virgin." Compton nodded his thanks. "I know that you will give us a complete report as soon as possible sir."
Rogers acknowledged the compliment, "The body and organ conditions will be ready this afternoon but we will have to wait for the results of toxicology and blood for as day or two I’m afraid."
Martin was looking very pale and Compton was not too sympathetic. "Got to take these things in your stride lad. If you had to watch the whole thing, which I have from time to time you try to deaden you feelings. It isn’t easy!"
Rosie was already in the Pub and probably on her second drink because she seemed very cheerful. "You know why I asked you to come out and see my boys Sarge. We were in the Hippodrome when that dust up happened and Frenchy tripped up that Ted who started it all. There was that other big brute that Ramsay took care of. Outside I saw them looking at the old motor bike and side car that my lads use sometimes to visit the city and that is going to mean they will know where to find Frenchy. Wicked little b...rs they are. They are staying at Halidon’s old place outside the City and there are some girls there with them. They all ride those big bikes."
Compton produced a photograph. Rosie shook her head, "Can’t say that I know her and there are some new young ones that are on the street for a living. Place like this you would think they would not have any trouble but I heard that you have found a dead one. I will keep my ears and eyes open."
After seeing that she had another drink they left the Pub and as they got to the car Martin said. "Got an idea for you Sergeant." Compton waited with his hand on the door.
"Why don’t we show the photo to the Postmaster at Blasely?"
"Get in lad...get in. Most crimes are solved by pure hard work but every now a
nd then you have to listen to that little voice that comes into the back of your mind."
The Postmaster’s wife looked at the photograph and squeaked, "That’s her. Look Walter that’s the girl isn’t it." She put her hand to her eyes then. "It’s the girl that’s dead isn’t it. Oh dear I think I am going to be sick. To think she was only working here and talking to us not long ago."
She started to cry and with a sympathetic look at the Postmaster who put his arms round her Compton hastily said, "We may have to come back and see you later."
Driving back to the Station Compton said, "Remind me to send someone out to take statements. That was a good idea of yours lad. Now we will be able to put a name to her if Bill’s fingerprint search turns something up."
He pushed the brim of his hat up with a tired gesture, "There is something else we have got to remember. On Sunday you and I are going to visit the Densons with your Mum and my wife. It’s not something I would ordinarily do in the middle of an enquiry but I know how disappointed my Nancy would be and your mother too if we didn’t go. What do you know about Guy Denson?"
"Nothing at all really sergeant."
Compton smiled at that because Nancy had received a full account of Caroline Denson’s visit, "Well he is by way of being a very successful business man. He is someone who stays out of the limelight but he is a powerful force in local affairs. He is nobody’s fool!"
Martin wondered why Compton had put so much stress on that.
Bisset was wearing a relieved look when they walked into the office. "I was just going to put out the alarm for you sergeant. Sergeant Bridgeman wants you to call him."Compton dialled the number from memory. "You have taken your time William."
This had neatly forestalled any smart comment that Bridgeman was going to make at Compton’s expense.
"I don’t think I will tell you."
"You have got a name to go with the fingerprints Bill."
"You do have a habit of spoiling someone’s fun Daniel. Yes the file contents will be faxed to us and I will bring you the details in the morning. Some convictions, so there is a positive ident."
"Thank you. I knew that you would turn something up." In a mollified tone Bridgeman said, "Nice to be appreciated."
Elizabeth McGregor was seething. She did not like the way her question about police behaviour had been brushed off at the Watch Committee meeting. She made her own enquiries about where the youth could be found who had been injured and a few evenings later she got into her old car and set off for Halidons.