Chapter 5 - The Boys in Blue
Detective Inspector Keith Helford switched off his computer, and drained the cold remains of the coffee he'd started two hours ago. So much paperwork had been shifted today he felt he deserved a medal. He was half-way to the door, delighted to be leaving on time for once, when the phone rang. "Noooooo....." he groaned.
He turned round and picked up the receiver. "Helford."
"Sir, glad I caught you. A report's just come in - the Council found a body."
A vision swum before Helford's eyes of a circle of local dignitaries gazing down at a corpse. "Dean, say that in English. You mean at Southcliff Hall?"
"Yes, sir. A body's been found in a tunnel at Southcliff Hall. Uniform's there," Dean explained. His voice was tense with excitement.
"Good Lord. Sounds unreal. I didn't know there was a tunnel there." He sighed. "OK, I'll be down in a minute. Get the car round to the front and I'll meet you."
As he went downstairs his mind started the usual routine of preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. The worst case scenario was murder, the best would be a skeleton so old he could turn it over to the history boys. That would be nice - just call in forensics, then home for tea a little later than expected. Murder - well, he could forget getting home on time for weeks to come.
He climbed into the car, and Detective Sergeant Dean handed him the brief details they had so far. Jeff Dean was eager to get to the scene, as Keith Helford had been once many years ago. Now, he dreaded what he might find. Contrary to the impression given by popular television shows, a murder cannot be tidied up in a few scenes. It is a vile beast, like an octopus, the tentacles stretching back into the past, sucking up old evils, and flicking consequences at future generations. Many people were caught up even in the process of detection, innocent as well as guilty.
He glanced at the paper in his hand. Reported by the Amenities Manager, Mr Harry Tanner. Found in a tunnel which runs along the back of the basement. Suspected gunshot victim. Nasty - this didn't sound like an ancient skeleton. His mind raced - who had access to the basement, who had been there last....better call in scene-of-crime as soon as they'd had a quick look.
"Know anything about this tunnel, Dean?"
"As it happens, I do, sir. When we were kids we tried to get up the smugglers tunnels from the caves on the beach. We couldn't, it was all blocked off, but we knew that one went all the way up to Southcliff Hall. I remember my mum said it was to deliver booze to the rich folk up there!"
"Very likely," Helford replied sourly. "The old families round here had ways and means around the law. Happens everywhere. Southcliff Hall used to belong to the Clandecy family, I do know that. Look, this is going to take a while - have you told your Mum?" He couldn't resist teasing his junior colleague.
"Sent her a text while I was waiting for you, sir." Dean grinned, though he was always embarrassed by his Mum's eternal attempts to feed him and half the local force as well. Helford, though, wanted to get Dean into good habits for the future. Dean wouldn't always be single, and it was well known that many marriages fell apart under the strain of police work. He'd heard quite enough of colleagues succumbing to drink problems and stress-related illnesses. Long hours in pubs trying to get familiar with informants and other lowlife made alcoholism a real risk. At least the smoking ban had reduced the risk of lung cancer.
"Traffic's heavy today - going home time, I guess," Dean muttered, taking the portable siren from the dashboard and reaching out of the window to fasten its magnetic base onto the roof. He loved that siren, the flashing light and the noise made him feel he was a real cop - even though he drove his boss around in an unmarked car.
"Are you sure CID is the right place for you? Missing the excitement of belting round in a marked car with 'blues and twos' going nineteen to the dozen?" Helford enquired sarcastically. "Turn it off, Dean, the body's not going to make a run for it," he sighed. They swung into the road leading to Southcliff Hall, and parked in one of the Council spaces.
Uniformed officers waited with two anxious men under the porch. Before the policemen could get a word in, the older man spoke. "Thank you for getting here quickly. I'm Harry Tanner and this is Ben Wickens. We found the body. We have made sure that nobody has gone in the basement."
"Nobody would want to," put in Ben, "It's not a pretty sight."
"Thank you. I'm Detective Inspector Keith Helford and this is Detective Sergeant Jeff Dean. Is there a room somewhere we could set up for the investigation?"
Harry replied immediately. "They said you'd want one - I'll ask James - I mean Mr Goswell, the Clerk. Come in, I think you'd better speak to him yourself. Sorry, I don't have a clue what happens. I just knew we shouldn't touch anything."
He led the officers through Reception to the door leading to the basement. They followed him down the wooden staircase, and Ben came along behind, agog with the drama of it all.
In the basement a tall man stood beside another uniformed officer, guarding a closed door. The man had a handkerchief clutched in his hand, and was discreetly wiping the back of his neck. He put it away and held out his hand to shake theirs. "James Goswell, Parish Clerk. Thought I'd better help keep guard here."
"Very responsible of you, sir," Helford reassured him, wondering why the uniformed officers were not considered competent to do the job.
After the introductions Harry unlocked the door. They made their way between the shelves and grouped around the dark hole at the back of the room. Harry shone his torch behind the right hand wall, lighting up a cylindrical cavern about seven feet in height and ending abruptly in a flat wall about six feet from them. Sitting on the floor, with the upper body slumped against this wall, lay a man, or what had been a man. The face was turned towards them, but it was crushed and unrecognisable, covered in dried blood. The body was dressed in a man's jacket and trousers, with an open-necked shirt just visible inside the jacket. In the middle of the chest a huge dark stain spread around a messy hole - the eye flinched away from the revolting sight. One trouser leg had ridden up to show a plump hairy calf, wearing a thin sock and a smart leather shoe. The other leg was bent under the body, as if the man had been standing upright, then had slumped down on his own ankle. The detectives and Council employees stood in silence, taking in the awful sight.
Someone made a choking noise, and the other four turned. James Goswell had stayed at the back but had peered round to see where the torchlight shone - he was now pale and trembling. He leaned against the metal shelving and closed his eyes.
"Get him upstairs quickly," ordered Helford.
"Ben, help me get Mr Goswell out of here," Harry commanded, and they all retreated back to the normality and sunshine of the Reception area, where they sat James on a chair with his head between his knees.
When he had recovered a little, he readily suggested his own office as their base for the investigation. "Are you sure, sir - it may take some time," replied Helford gently. "Oh, yes, I see - well, perhaps the Clandecy room? No, wait a minute, the Council need that for meetings, what am I saying.....well, Fiona will have to give up her office, I think. Yes, Harry, would you mind taking the officers to Fiona's office?"
Harry thought that this was a terrible idea, not least because Fiona would go berserk. She kept so much crucial paperwork in her office - it was the real hub of Council operations. James, on the other hand, kept very little in his office except vintage desks and chairs and some old leather-bound volumes. The room was for private meetings and for the incumbent Clerk to impress visitors.
"Are you sure, James?" he ventured. "Fiona will have to move into your office with you.....and move all her work, and files......but if you or I move out of our offices we can float around more easily, you know...I could sit in with Kim or you at a pinch."
The prospect of Fiona in his office for any extended time made James sit up and gather his wits. "OK, first thoughts are often best - my office it sha
ll be, really, Inspector. It's ideal for interviews or whatever you do, and I can move around easiest. You can't, Harry, you've got as many files as Fiona, and the Team need you in one place."
D.S. Dean had made a call to the station, the scene-of-crime team now arrived, and the uniformed officers started unrolling tape from the pillars outside. The S.O.C.O.'s went to work, covered in protective clothing, and in Reception the two plain clothes man and the three council officers had a conference about who was left in the building. It appeared that almost everyone had gone home by ten past five, and only James had been still in his office at five-fifteen when Harry had raced upstairs to phone the police.
"Fair enough, now an obvious question - " He looked around at the serious faces of the three Council employees. "Any idea who that is down there?"
James shook his head immediately. Ben looked bewildered and spread his hands in a shrug, but Harry looked worried. "Mr Tanner?" Helford prompted.
"I could be wrong, but the clothes - it could be - doesn't make any sense, but it looked like - like - Mr Chewter. What he wore - and the size - stocky, bit big round the waist...." His voice tailed off unhappily, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as if to erase the image.
"Blimey - you're right, Harry," Ben spluttered. "I didn't see much of him at work, but I remember his funny jackets, tweedy sort of things he wore. Ruddy hell, what's he doing down there? He got kicked out months ago!"
Harry fixed Ben with a stern look. Helford decided that all three men would have to interviewed tonight, and then he would widen the net tomorrow. "I suggest we make a start in your office, Mr Goswell, if you would all be so good as to come with us. I will try to take as little of your time as possible, gentlemen, but I'm sure you appreciate that everything you can tell me now will help. Sergeant Dean, please get an officer to accompany Mr Tanner and Mr, er, Wickens, to another room to wait while we speak to Mr Goswell."
They trooped upstairs to James's office. He began to stack the few files on his desk, preparing to move himself into the Accounts office. Helford asked him to stop for a moment. "You can do that in a moment, sir. First please tell me why you were still in the building after everyone else had left."
James stared at him, blinked, and stuttered "I - I - well, I was just finishing reading a report. Anyway, I knew Harry was still here - we usually check on each other and leave around the same time, so we can set the alarm. I mean, it only takes one to set it, but we're not supposed to be here alone, you see, it's policy."
"Which report were you reading?"
James looked down at the files he had gathered, and passed the Inspector the top manila folder. It bore the title 'Graffiti and Vandalism'.
"It'll be discussed at the next Full Council meeting, at the end of this week. I was just mugging up on what has been going on before I got here."
"How long have you been here, sir?"
"Since January. I was taken on to replace this chap Chewter, the one Harry mentioned. He was Parish Clerk here, in this very office." James looked around nervously as if a vengeful apparition might leap out from the volumes in the bookcase.
"And why did he leave? From the story you were given, I mean."
"He had an elderly mother dying of cancer, that's what they told me at my interview. But I have heard since that he was accused of sexual harassment. I don't know who he harassed, if anyone."
"Did you meet him?"
"Yes, he came in once or twice, made himself known to me, said he hoped I would settle down in the job. He was pleasant enough to me."
"Did you see him interact with others?"
"I - well, I must admit I noticed that people here were not pleased to see him. I got the impression that he was not popular. But they never said anything to me. Sorry, I'm not being very much help."
"What can you tell me about Harry Tanner?"
"Harry? Oh, he's a good man. Keeps the boys working well - that's the Amenities Team, you know - gets the best out of them, and everyone likes him. He loves his parks, and his roundabouts - all that planting you see every summer, that's his work, his designs - he puts his heart and soul into it. He loves this village, been here all his life."
"And Ben, er, Wickens?" Helford continued. D.S. Dean, his head bent over his notebook, grinned. His boss was famous for remembering only about two names he heard at the start of any investigation. He suspected that the third name depended on a link in Helford's mind - more than likely to the chain of builder's merchants of a similar name.
James considered what he knew about Ben. "I haven't had much to do with him - he works outdoors with the rest of the Team. But I've not heard anything against him. He's just young, doesn't know when to keep quiet."
"We shan't want him or anyone to keep quiet in this investigation. Now, tell me who had keys to the basement."
"Hmm, I think more or less everyone up here did. We get a bunch of keys to all the rooms, and the basement key is one of them. I suppose the other doors down there open with their own keys - come to think of it, I don't know if we all could get in to the archive rooms. Let me look at my bunch."
He fumbled about in his desk drawer, bringing out a large set of keys, and checked through them. "Accounts, front door, my office, Clandecy Room, alarms, basement, admin, desk, safe, file room - hmm, looks as though I don't have anything for those doors down there. Come to think of it, I only went down there with Fiona on my first day, and she used her key. So she has one, and obviously Harry has one - I'm sorry, I'm not being helpful. I think I'm too new here, you'd better ask Fiona. She knows everything about this place."
"Fiona? That would be....?"
"Fiona Carvell, the - my, er, secretary. I can give you her address, if you want to see her tonight. Or she'll be in at eight-thirty tomorrow morning."
James found the Inspector a staff list in the filing cabinet in Fiona's office, complete with addresses and telephone numbers. Helford thought he seemed unduly pleased with himself for this burst of efficiency. He was then allowed to remove his files and person to the Accounts room, and given permission to go home. The two officers waited politely until he left.
"What do you make of him, sir?" Dean whispered.
"Probably only survives in the job because this Fiona woman keeps him on track. The power behind the throne - notice how he hesitated when he had to think of her job title? I thought he was about to say 'The Boss', not 'my secretary'. Mind you, he genuinely doesn't seem to know anything. Couldn't have even got in the room, it seems."
"So he says."
"Oh, we will be checking everything, fear not, Dean. Nothing will be taken on trust. Now let me think - Tanner or the kid first?"