Cat Burglar
The operator at the West Yorkshire Police Central Control who took the 999 call at just before eleven pm was not at all sure there was a real emergency, but she didn't think it was a hoax call either.
"You've got to come," the caller said in a strong local accent. "They've both gone. You've got to send someone."
"Keep calm madam. Tell me your name and address and who has gone missing."
"It's my boyfriend and his mate," the female caller said, loudly and in a panic. "They went into this 'ouse. 27 Stanstead Walk and they never come out."
"What do you mean?" the operator asked.
"My boyfriend and his mate. They went in through a window and they never come out. My brother was keeping a lookout with a mobile, but when he rang them t' mobile was switched off. He kept ringing and ringing."
"Was this their property?"
"No. They broke in. They shouldn't have done that, but that's nowt to do wi' it. Summat's happened to them or they'd have answered t' phone. Look, are you going to send someone round?"
"Let me take down a few details and I'll check the log and see whether there are any calls or arrests."
The caller was almost incoherent. "There hasn't been no police here. Not from what my brother says. They've just disappeared."
"I'll need to look into it madam, so I'll need some details to check. First their names."
The caller banged the phone down. The emergency operator who passed on the call in the first place had been given an obviously false name and address and the call turned out to be from a public call box on the Merrimoor estate in Witchmoor.
The operator/dispatcher at West Yorkshire Police Central was not quite certain what to do: the fact that the caller had mentioned a boyfriend and a brother made the call seem more probable. If the call were genuine, the two boys would probably be apprehended, so the caller would be identified anyway. Moreover, she had sounded genuinely worried, so the operator despatched a patrol car to the address that had been given.
The patrol car drove round to the address mentioned in the call. The Merrimoor estate was a local crime hot spot so, on the basis of past experience, the officers were looking for either a hoax call or a trap of some sort. They parked on the main road next to a call box that the caller might possibly have used, and looked around. The call box was empty and there was no one about, so they got out of the car and locked it. There still appeared to be nobody in sight so they walked together up the path three doors to 27 Stanstead Walk. There was a downstairs light on in number 27.
"They're still up," one of the officers remarked.
"No sign of a break-in that I can see," his partner observed. "And no one about."
"I'll try the door."
The second officer stood by the gate, looking outwards towards the patrol car, while the other knocked at the front door. There was a pause and then a sound of shuffling feet.
"Who is it?" demanded a querulous voice from behind the closed door.
"Police, ma'am."
The door opened a little on a chain.
"What do you want?" a little old woman demanded. She was little - no more than 5 feet, and was holding a scrawny tabby cat.
"We had a report of a break-in at this address, ma'am."
"There's been no break-in here," the old woman said. "Either someone gave you a wrong address or it was a trick." It was an old voice, but it had no trace of a local accent - more the clipped vowels of an educated northerner
"You're up late. Have you heard anything?"
"I'm feeding my cats. I haven't heard or seen anything," the old woman said, and started to close the door.
If there had been no crime, then there was nothing to investigate, so the police officer had no choice but to wish the woman 'Good Night'. He turned uneasily away as she shut and locked the door and together the officers walked slowly back to their car, taking a good look around again as they went. Nothing.
The caller had sounded to be a young female - say 12 to 16 years. The story was a strange one and the dispatcher passed a brief report of the call to the Witchmoor Edge CID. She attached a copy of the report of the responding officers.
Detective Inspector Millicent Hampshire read the reports next morning and thought that the situation had been reasonably handled. DI Hampshire was a mixed race and rather formidable detective in her early forties. She broke off from the strange and urgent murder case she was handling long enough to send a message down to Missing Persons to the effect that she was to be informed of any relevant reports and rang the call centre to say that, should the same caller ring again, she was to be passed straight to whichever detective was on duty.
Missing Persons came back almost immediately with a message to say that there had been no reports which could conceivably be related directly to this case, but that there had been two recent reports that were strikingly similar. A young mugger called Eddy Mason had disappeared some two months previously, causing no great grief in the Witchmoor Edge Division of West Yorkshire police, and a fire-raising young vandal called Samuel Barnes had disappeared just over a month ago, both had last known addresses on Merrimore..
The Merrimoor estate had suffered more than its share of problems in the recent past, but the crime rate had improved the last month or two. Millicent was intrigued by the disappearing criminals and sent for copies of the files. By the time they arrived she was already engaged in more pressing matters and put them with the report in her 'pending' tray.
That evening DI Hampshire mentioned the strange call to Tobias N'Dibe, over coffee in the café in Bradford Public Library. Tobias N'Dibe needs some explanation, but beyond pointing out that he is a high-ranking civil servant nearing retirement age with a very pedantic manner and occult interests not entirely in keeping with his position, this is not the place. Millicent Hampshire shared some of his interests, including an esoteric group, which met openly in a room at Bradford Central Library once a month to hear interesting speakers on interesting topics.
N'Dibe listened gravely to Millicent's account of the call.
"You think there will be a further call," he said - definitely a statement not a question. Millicent realised she did think so.
"I don't feel as if we've heard the last of it," she agreed.
N'Dibe nodded, solemn still.
"Two previous disappearances, both of the missing characters less than desirable citizens. Sounds like an interesting way of disposing of a crime wave," he remarked. "Perhaps they all annoyed the wrong person!" He glanced at his watch. "Just time for an ice cream, I think," he added, getting to his feet.
Millicent smiled to herself. N'Dibe's weakness for ice cream was so far out of character that it made for an almost human trait.
"I'd like us to watch Zoe Robinson tonight," he remarked as returned from the counter. "Judith intends to propose her for membership at lodge next Saturday and I would value your opinion at the end of tonight's meeting."
The remark was an oblique reference to the inner group that lay behind the public meetings and Millicent nodded rather absently and without comment.
II
By coincidence it was about the same time as the public meeting ended in Bradford Central Library that the operator at West Yorkshire Police Central Control put the female caller through to Detective Constable Tommy Hammond.
"I have a note about your call last night," Tommy said reassuringly. "We sent a patrol out to investigate."
"I know," said the caller close to tears. "I saw them."
Tommy forbore to point out that she should have 'it', not 'them', since a patrol is singular, even when it consists of several people. I'm getting as pedantic as N'Dibe, he thought - DI Hampshire's friend was well known in Witchmoor Edge CID. Out loud he said: "Then you know they went to the address you gave us. We were told there hadn't been a break-in."
The caller sniffed. "I don't understand it," she said. Tommy agreed with the operator that she sounded genuine.
"Have there
been any further developments?" the detective asked, trying to get her talking.
"There were no sign of t'other two this morning. They never went home nor nowt. My brother kept hanging around t' place all day. Tonight he went in t' same way himself. I told him not to but he wouldn't listen."
There was a pause. The caller was probably crying, but she blew her nose and continued: "He went into number 27 and he hasn't come out. He's disappeared."
The caller was really sobbing now. DC Hammond thought she sounded completely genuine. Like the operator and the patrol the previous night he was used to hoaxes and people trying it on. Like a referee at a first class football match, he had seen enough dives in the penalty area to be careful when awarding penalties. This, however, seemed like a genuine foul.
"If I come out myself right now," he said, "will you stay around to help me." The caller sniffed but didn't say anything. "Look," he continued persuasively, "If I go on my own and the person at 27 Stanstead Walk says there wasn't a break-in, what can I do? I need you to contradict the householder or we can't do anything."
The line went frustratingly dead.
With a certain degree of justice DC Hammond rated himself quite highly on the persuasiveness scale and he had been at his most persuasive. He was cursing his luck when the Call Centre Operator rang back.
"Same caller," she said." She asked for the man she was talking to."
"We got cut off," Tommy said rather obviously when she came through.
"Yes. I did it, but not on purpose. I'm all upset."
"I need your help," Tommy Hammond insisted." I'm not in uniform and I'll be driving an unmarked car but I'll try and find a uniformed police woman to come with me. Now, where shall I meet you?"
"Come up t' main drag and stop near the end of Stanstead Walk like last night. Stop by t' phone box. I'll meet you there."
"You won't run away," said Tommy. "Remember I need your help."
"Okay."
DC Hammond agreed with his boss - it was very odd.
The only woman officer around the Witchmoor Edge Police Station at that time of night was in the canteen when DC Hammond went searching, but he told her enough to rouse her curiosity. PC Brenda Carver finished her mug of tea and hurried after Tommy to the car park at the rear of the station.
"If you're telling the truth, it's a queer one," she remarked as they drove out of the yard, automatic gates closing behind them.
"Would I lie to you?" Tommy asked.
"I've been conned before."
"Well I can tell you I'm puzzled by it," Tommy said. "And DI. Hampshire was curious as well about last night's phone call. If it's a hoax, then I've been conned as well as you."
"We'll know soon enough, I guess," Brenda said as the car squealed a right turn, tyres protesting, off the Keighley road and climbed steeply towards the Merrimoor estate.
The call box was easy enough to see, but there was nobody in sight anywhere around it. DC Hammond and PC Carver got out of the car and looked around.
"I think," Tommy said, "It may be like feeding a squirrel or wild animal."
"What do you mean?"
"Wait around a while and don't do anything suddenly to frighten the creature off."
Brenda Carver was a little taken aback by Tommy's astuteness about his nervous target. She didn't say anything, but he went up a couple of notches in her estimation.
After less than a minute that seemed like ten, a figure emerged reluctantly from the shadows and girl of about fifteen approached them. Brenda thought she might have been quite attractive done up, but she looked careworn and somehow rather bedraggled, though the night was fine and the girl wasn't actually wet. She was one of those mixed race girls for whom the mix is a brilliant success - smooth, tanned looking skin, dark eyes and glossy black hair, though her eyes were red rimmed at the moment and her hair dishevelled.
"It weren't you that come last night?" the girl said.
'No," Tommy answered, "But it was me you spoke to on the phone and I've got a report the officers filed last night. You're sure there's been no sign of any of the three boys."
"Didn't you believe me?"
"If I didn't believe you I wouldn't be here," Tommy said. 'But I've got to make other people believe the story as well. Now, I don't have a name for the householder at number twenty-seven."
"Everybody calls her Moggie Braithwaite, on account she has a load of cats. I don't know her first name."
"And what's your name?"
PC Carver waited for her to refuse to answer, but she realised Tommy was interrogating her very circumspectly.
"Tanya Grant."
"And your brother who disappeared. He is also a Grant?"
Tanya nodded. "Damion," she said.
"Now we get to the important bit for when I speak to Moggie Braithwaite," Tommy said. "Did you actually see your brother enter number twenty-seven?"
"Aye."
"And you can show me the spot?"
"I told you, I saw him go in." Tanya was agitated. Perhaps she thought Tommy was questioning her truthfulness. "It were a back bedroom windows. I saw him go in."
"Did you actually see the other two enter twenty-seven?"
"No. Damion stood outside keeping watch. He saw them go in, but I wouldn't have nowt to do wi'it. It was Damion what told me about last night."
"I'm a bit puzzled about what they expected to find in the house," Tommy said. "According to the report from last night it's a very ordinary house with an overgrown garden and a small, old and rather scruffy looking old lady householder. It doesn't sound like rich pickings."
"That's what I said, but Aga kept on about how he thought she had some money stashed away. It were all nonsense, but he had it in for her and he kept on about it. He said it would be easy to get in and he could find the stuff and she had it coming anyway."
Brenda Carver slipped out her notebook and wrote down the various names Tommy had elicited so far.
"Who's Aga?" he asked.
"It's short for Alexander Graham Adrian," Tanya said. "Puff used to call him that as a joke when they went around together. I don't think he liked it, but you don't argue with Puff. Or you didn't before he went away."
"Does Aga have a last name?"
"I don't rightly know. It's Wilson or Wilkinson or something, but everyone just calls him 'Aga'."
"He doesn't go around with Puff any more?"
"Puff''s moved away. Gone. Disappeared."
"What was Puff's name," Tommy asked.
The girl sounded desperate rather than angry. She replied: "Look. Are you going to do anything about Damion and Gary and Aga?"
Tommy replied gently, "I'm not looking forward to calling a little old lady a liar. I want as much background information as I can. I want to be able to spot if she's not telling the truth. Understand?"
Tanya looked mollified but only partly convinced. "Go on then," she said.
"Did Puff have a proper name?"
"Eddy Mason," Tanya said. "But he's nowt to do wi'it."
Tommy recognised the name as one of those reported to Missing Persons section. Eddy Mason too had disappeared and might be connected, though he couldn't see how.
"I think there's a possibility he could be connected," Tommy said. "He disappeared too and no one seems to know how or when. I think we have to keep him in mind."
"I don't like to think on him," Tanya said, shuddering. "He were a bully. Really nasty. He liked hurting people for t'fun on it. He were big an' he carried a knife."
PC Carver remembered a colleague describing a brush with that particular young thug a few months earlier.
"And what about your boyfriend. Gary you said?"
"Gary Dalton."
"Okay," Tommy said, "I think we'll have a talk with Moggie Braithwaite. PC Carver, will you knock at the door of number 27 for us. You come along with us Tanya, but leave the talking to me unless I ask you to join in. You understand."
"Aye," the girl said reluctantly. Whether she was reluctant t
o keep quiet or merely reluctant to go with them, Tommy wasn't sure.
As the three of them walked up the road the few metres to number 27, Tanya blew her nose and pulled herself together a little. Brenda Carver thought it was developing into a something strange, and couldn't see how it was going to end. Tommy kept his counsel and tried to keep an open mind.
Tommy stopped at the gap in the fence where the gate of number 27 should have been and surveyed the property. The garden was unkempt and, although it was too dark to be certain, the house looked as if a coat of paint wouldn't do any harm. A downstairs light was on. PC Carver looked at DC Hammond who nodded and she stepped towards the door.
III
The same feet shuffled to the door as on the previous night; the door again opened a crack, held on a chain, and the same little old lady demanded to know who was there. The presence of a uniformed policewoman was what finally gained them entry.
The house smelt pretty revolting. The place probably needed cleaning and freshening anyway, but the stink of cat litter was pervasive. Tanya followed PC Carver and DC Hammond inside and she too wrinkled her nose. Tommy was not sure how many cats there were, but it was quite a few. There was the scrawny tabby from the previous night, two timid ones that peered out from behind a bookcase stacked with tins of cat food, and a large, rather ugly one which sat in a corner spitting and snarling at them.
The old woman reached down to stroke the fierce one and it swung a paw at her, claws out.
"Now, now," she said to it, "I had to have you neutered because you insisted on being unpleasant. I'll clip your claws as well if you don't behave."
The cat snarled again, but it slunk off into a corner.
"You had a break in earlier today," Tommy said, more statement than question.
"There was no break-in here," the woman said.
"You're Ms. Braithwaite?" Tommy asked.
"Miss Braithwaite," she corrected heavily. "Miss Margaret Braithwaite."
Tommy could see where 'Moggie' came from - a combination of Maggie and the cats.
"Miss Grant says she saw a youth climb in through one of your rear windows earlier today."
"Miss Grant is mistaken," Moggie Braithwaite said. "Apart from a few minutes at the shops this morning, I have been here the whole time and nobody has broken in."
'Do you mind if I have a look around," Tommy asked. "Make sure there isn't anyone lurking in a corner somewhere."
"If you want. You won't find anyone but you can look if you want."
Tommy got up and looked in the kitchen. Except for a very smelly litter tray and two more cats licking an empty bowl, it was empty. The top window was very slightly open, but it was doubtful whether anyone could get through. A cat, perhaps, but not a burglar. He tried the back door. It was securely locked and bolted. DC Hammond unbolted and opened it. The back door opened into an open porch formed by an outside toilet and a shed. There was no door on the shed, which was completely empty anyway, and the toilet was just that - a toilet. Tommy shut, re-locked and re-bolted the door.
There was one other door from the kitchen, which turned out to lead into a pantry, which was empty of anything alive, even a cat.
"Satisfied?" Moggie asked as DC Hammond came back into the living room.
"I'll just take a look upstairs if you don't mind."
"Suit yourself," the old woman snapped. "You won't find anyone."
The hall and stairs lights were still on. Tommy glanced under the stairs. There was no cupboard and nothing there except another litter tray. 'I wonder how she can be so sure there's no one about,' he thought.
He went up the stairs.
It was a two-bedroom house. In the larger front bedroom was a double bed, covered by a rather grubby duvet, snagged by cat claws. There was also a dressing table, a wardrobe, a bedside table and a chair. The inside of the wardrobe smelt of mothballs and contained some rather more decent clothes than Moggie Braithwaite was wearing at present. There was, however, no sign of Damion, Gary or Aga.
The smaller bedroom was even less forthcoming. The floor was of black and white lino tiles, but the only furniture was a small chest of drawers and a wooden tea chest in one corner. There were no cupboards, trunks or anything of that sort and definitely no sign of the three boys. The bathroom door was open and the only live occupant was another cat.
DC Hammond went back downstairs slowly, considering the implications of the situation. He didn't think Tanya Grant was putting on an act: he was certain she believed her story to be true, though it pretty clearly wasn't. He'd have to get her to point out precisely which window she'd had seen her brother enter by. He went back into the living room.
"Seems safe enough," he said genially to Miss Braithwaite. "There's nobody prowling around upstairs and no sign of a break in."
"I told you so," said the old lady complacently.
"You did indeed," DC Hammond agreed, "And I said I'd feel happier if I were sure about it. I think," he continued to PC Carver and Tanya," that we'll leave the house now."
Tanya looked strained again as the two of them got up, said their good nights and followed Tommy Hammond out. They heard the lock and the chain as they walked down the path.
"Okay Tanya," the detective said. "We'll go round the back and you can point out the exact window to me."
The three of them walked to the end of the block and followed a narrow footpath down the backs of the houses. When they came to the rear of number 27, Tanya pointed.
"If you climb up on t' shed t' bathroom window's in easy reach but that were shut. Both times t' back bedroom window were open a bit and Damion got in that way. It's a bit of a stretch but you can do it."
Tommy thought you probably could if the window was open. "Both times?" he repeated. "I thought you said you didn't see the first time."
"I didn't. That were what Damion said."
DC Hammond led the way back onto the main road in silence. Finally he said, "Look. If we're going to take this any further it has to be done properly. I went all round that house tonight and didn't see any sign of Damion, Gary or Aga. If you saw them go in, we'll have to do a proper job, get fingerprints from your house and check number 27 for their prints. Do a thorough search. We can't do that on verbal evidence. Are you willing to come into the station tomorrow and make a proper statement. That way we can send someone to your house and to Gary's and Aga's to get statements and fingerprints. Will you do that?"
Tanya nodded dumbly. She obviously didn't like it, but PC Carver thought the girl had stubborn streak which might make her see it though.
DC Hammond wrote down DI Hampshire's name, told the girl to ask for her, made a note of Tanya's own address and drove her home.
IV
When DI Hampshire read Tommy Hammomd's report next morning she was intrigued. She was well aware that whole job should have been delegated to a more junior detective initially, but she wanted to meet Tanya Grant and size up the girl herself. Whether the case was as odd as it seemed depended entirely on the girl's story and the extent to which she was a reliable witness.
If she was telling the truth then three youths had gone into 27 Stanstead Walk and then gone missing. Tommy's search had revealed no sign of them and suggested the possibility of foul play, though Miss Braithwaite did not sound convincing in the role of serial killer. Apart from the three alleged disappearances over the last two days there were two earlier ones - unexplained and quite possibly unconnected, but undeniably genuine.
Tanya Grant turned up at Witchmoor Edge Police Headquarters around ten o'clock. She was considerably smartened up for the occasion and, as PC Carver had observed the night before, the girl possessed striking good looks. She still looked a little strained and short of sleep as DI Hampshire sat her down in an interview room to take down a few details.
"I won't record this chat," Millicent Hampshire said. "You're the person filing this complaint and at this point I just want some starting points. Later, if it turns out you're a witness to a crime, we
may need to record a statements. You understand?"
Millicent wasn't sure whether the girl nodded or not and the 'Yes.' Was very faint.
"The first thing that springs to mind is why am I talking to you and not to your mum or dad with you in the background as a witness?" Any sting in the question was partially pulled by Millicent's generally amiable manner. In any event, Tanya did not seem to mind the question.
"Dad doesn't live with us and mum's at work," she said, "If anything needs signing she'll come round after work, but I can tell you better than her what happened anyway."
That seemed reasonable to the inspector. She glanced at DC Hammond's report. "You live at 18 Dyson's Dive House?" she read.
"That's right."
"You are Tanya Grant and your missing brother is Damion Grant?"
"Yes."
Now that she was less agitated Tanya's accent, though still noticeable, was much less strong.
"How old are you and your brother?" Millicent asked.
"I'm sixteen in two months and Damion's fourteen."
"What's your mother's name?"
"Ellen Grant."
Millicent wrote it down, along with the address DC Hammond had noted when he drove her home the night before.
"Now, I'll need the names and addresses of the other two youths you say also disappeared." DI Hampshire said. "Wasn't one of them your boyfriend?"
Tanya nodded and Millicent wondered if there could conceivably be something here related to a bust up. On balance the detective inspector didn't think so. It just went some way towards explaining why the girl was co-operating with the police.
"I'll check that they haven't been reported missing yet," DI Hampshire said, "and, if not, I'll send a detective out to their home addresses to look for them." She did not add, 'and ask about their part in an alleged burglary!'
When DI Hampshire had all the details she needed, she sent Tanya home with some scene of crime officers to get Damion's prints and a photograph. Alone then she mulled over Tanya's story. The key elements had not changed since the 999 call and now that she'd met the girl she felt, as DC Hammond had felt the previous night that, whether Tanya's story was true or not, the girl at least genuinely believed what she was saying. She might be borderline delinquent but she wasn't a fool and appeared truthful - which had serious implications.
The scene of crime staff brought back a photo and several items with Damion's prints, to form the beginnings of a file. Missing Persons Division had no record on Gary or Aga, so Millicent sent out DC Bright to look for them and DC Goss to make some preliminary enquiries about Damion with such places as hospitals, his school and other divisions. With that DI Hampshire turned to other urgent matters.