Read Tell the Octopus, and other Short Stories Page 2

Anastasia held their breath. They hadn’t expected this.

  The large man’s voice lowered menacingly. “And, assuming that this fantasy of yours is true, what guarantee do you have that no harm would come to these young people as a consequence of you arresting me? - Theoretically of course.” Archie Rogetinham had enough influence to make the threat, even against the police officer recording the conversation.

  “These children have already been harmed.”

  “But we must assume that they are still alive - in this alternative reality of yours. Should you make any foolish move, how would you live with yourself if anything happened to them?”

  The detective was unfazed by the threat. “In this ‘fantasy’ of mine, your octopus has a network of tentacles linked to child traffickers which stretches to the far side of the world.”

  Anastasia realised that the analogy with her octopus design in the underpass was not coincidental. “He knows we’re here!”

  The other two looked at her, horrified.

  Archie Rogetinham growled menacingly. “I promise that if you come up against me in any way, children in this theoretical universe of yours would start to die.”

  DI Knight had no answer for that. For a second a murderous expression crossed his impassive features.

  The large man laughed at the chink in the imperturbable man’s armour. “And don’t even think about taking the law into your own hands. If anything happens to me, the children you are so gallantly trying to protect will meet a very unpleasant fate. There is nothing you can do to prevent it but keep your mouth shut, like some of the parents who sold their children into prostitution.”

  Tug placed a reassuring arm about Anastasia as she attempted to keep her involuntary sobs silent. Even the unemotional Crumble seemed upset.

  DI Knight looked the monster straight in the eye. “You are a foul creature. I intend to save these children from further abuse, one way or another.”

  “By signing their death warrants?”

  “Pretending to be a respectable citizen does not put you above the law, however much influence you may have.”

  Archie Rogetinham gave an evil chuckle. “Oh, how naive you are, Detective Inspector. Of course it does. Haven’t you learnt anything?”

  “Excrement will always retain its stench, however deep you try to bury yourself and your crimes.”

  The large man went scarlet with rage and landed such a ferocious blow across the DI’s face he was slammed against the shed. “You insolent upstart! Even your superiors know their place! It’s about time you learnt yours!”

  Archie Rogetinham would have launched a murderous attack if the police officer had not seized the garden fork and swung its prongs towards his attacker.

  “Don’t be so bloody ridiculous! You wouldn’t dare!”

  No sooner had the words left the huge man’s mouth than he tripped and toppled forwards.

  The ex-mayor and pillar of the community was impaled on the fork.

  Crumble, Tug and Anastasia could see the tips of its long prongs exit the wide back, a brief spurt of blood patterning his light-coloured jacket.

  Unable to take in what had just happened, the detective momentarily froze. He clutched the fork’s handle in disbelief and gazed back into the horrified expression so close to his face before allowing the body to fall sideways. Archie Rogetinham lay on the ground, twitching for a moment. After the faint gurgle of blood welled up through his throat, he ceased to move.

  DI Knight took off a glove to feel for a pulse in the man’s fleshy neck. Crumble, Tug and Anastasia could tell by the way he withdrew that the ex mayor, and bane of creative endeavour, was dead.

  “Run!” hissed Tug.

  “No!” warned Crumble. “He’ll see us. Even if he does know we’ve witnessed everything he won’t want us involved. Hide over here.” He pulled Tug and Anastasia into the cover of the bushes on the far side of the lane.

  Seconds later the detective darted up the steps, wiped the blood away from his split lip and checked that no one was about before dashing back down the lane.

  The friends came out of hiding.

  Tug was worried. “Think anyone else saw?”

  Crumble had already taken that into account. “No chance, the trees blocked the view from the house and we would have noticed anyone else in the grounds.”

  Anastasia was still trying not to sob. “But what do we do now?”

  “You heard Rogetinham. If DI Knight does anything to harm him or this network of paedophiles, children will die.”

  “But it was an accident...”

  “Like that would matter. It would be best if the death’s taken as a murder committed by somebody else. If anyone finds out DI Knight was here... well... you know what will happen.”

  “But all those poor kids. What can we do?”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  So Crumble, Tug and Anastasia reluctantly returned to the octopus in the underpass to half-heartedly add some finishing touches before going home.

  Archie Rogetinham had been an important person and his death was reported in the national news. And, just as the friends were hoping it would be declared an accident or murder by an intruder, Detective Inspector Anatoly Ilyich Knight was held on suspicion of murder. The police would not release any other details as their ‘enquiries were ongoing’.

  Archie Rogetinham’s wife had known the exact time of her husband’s secret rendezvous with DI Knight. He had demanded the detective meet him to discuss his ludicrous obsession with him being involved in a paedophile syndicate. She was well aware of the animosity between the two men and, when her husband hadn’t returned to the house, immediately went down to find his body.

  To make matters worse the investigating officer, Detective Chief Inspector Davis, had not been able to account for the DI’s bruised face or whereabouts at that time. His mobile had been switched off and car left unattended for over two hours only a mile away.

  When Crumble, Tug and Anastasia secretly met in an underpass immediately after hearing the news it wasn’t to paint the walls. Two of them were near panic.

  “That gang will start killing those kids!” blurted out Anastasia.

  “And you heard DI Knight - they’re all over the world!” added Tug.

  “DI Knight said he had evidence.” Crumble told them before they became irrational. “He would have put it in a safe place immediately after this happened so, if they believe that, it might buy some time. The main concern is him being charged with the murder of Archie Rogetinham.

  Now Tug was near to tears. “But we have to do something!”

  “So we shall,” Crumble announced calmly. “If it was proved that DI Knight couldn’t have committed the murder, these child traffickers would have no reason to start killing children.”

  “But he’s hardly likely to admit it.”

  “In the face of the circumstantial evidence, who is going to believe him?”

  “Can’t we tell the police that it was an accident?” suggested Anastasia.

  Crumble gave her a circumspect look. “The fact that the two men met would only confirm that he has compiled enough evidence to bring the network down. Don’t forget that Rogetinham had contacts in the police who were able to suppress his previous enquiries. With DI Knight locked up, they might get to the dossier first. There is only one thing we can do - and the sooner the better.”

  “What’s that?” asked Tug.

  “Annie is sure that DI Knight knew we were watching.”

  “Why would that stop him thinking up something to save himself - and those kids?”

  At last the truth dawned on Anastasia. “Because he’s waiting for us.”

  An hour later the three artists approached the reception desk of the local police station.

  “We have come to make a statement concerning the murder DI Knight is accused of.”

  The desk sergeant gave Crumble a penetrating look which warned him that this was no joking matter.

  He we
nt on in his most confident tone. “It is possible he was with us at the time.”

  “You mean that you are his alibi?” She sounded incredulous. “What time this was?”

  “It was definitely two o’clock. We were doing this octopus in the ring road underpass when it happened...” Anastasia started to explain.

  Crumble’s raised hand was unable to stop her gushing on.

  “And we know it was that time because I had to get back home to collect the-”

  “There’s no need, Annie. I’m sure we’ll all be given the chance to make a full statement.”

  Instead of dismissing the young people for time wasting, which had been Crumble’s main concern, the desk sergeant looked relieved.

  She picked up her phone. “I need to speak to DCI Davies. This is important.”

  Crumble, Tug and Anastasia made their statements, having carefully agreed on every detail of their encounter with DI Knight beforehand. They declared that he had been struck by a half empty beer can hurled from a lorry on the ring road. (Crumble suggested the split lip and bruise had to be caused by something that unlikely because it was even less credible that this man would have tripped over anything.)

  After the friends had signed their statements and told to make themselves available should any further details be required, they went away to hold their breath.

  They needn’t have worried. DI Knight did not contradict their story.

  Shortly afterwards a news bulletin announced that the investigation implicating him had been dropped.

  Weeks passed with Crumble, Tug and Anastasia living in fear of a knock at the door from some reporter or other busybody claiming to have proof of their