Read The Sweet Smell of Rain Page 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Baxter was furious. Where was Hodder? As he looked through one of the ‘vents’ in the base of the monument, he cursed the lack of dog walkers, people he abused on a very regular basis for entirely different reasons. For his part, Palma, continued to be a pain in the backside, a point that the normally placid Baxter, made to him on an all too regular basis. ‘If I stay in here much longer with him’ thought Baxter, ‘First Aid will be the least of his worries, but nonetheless, it will be an essential requirement for him’.

  Throughout the journey back to Tyneside, Hodder filled the still fragile Lauren with a spurious, but under the circumstances quite believable explanations for her collision. He told her that Insurance Fraud was a growing problem and that entirely innocent persons were the victims of organised gangs. He told her that these gangs often worked out of their own area, so as not to draw the attention of the local police to whom they would doubtless be known, and whom would presumably become suspicious of the ‘accidents’.

  Laying it on even thicker, Hodder added that he assumed that was why the accent that she heard was not from Tyneside. However, though in his opinion, it was obviously Mancunian, he said that he could not place it to a particular region. Hodder went further to suggest that he was contacted via her, fortunately for him, missing mobile phone, hence, how he knew when and where to go with the documents that he described as being made up from a whole series of old or bogus documents.

  Hodder felt like the proverbial paedophile when he told Lauren that this was their secret and that they would both get into a lot of trouble if she shared too many details with anyone.

  When he eventually pulled into the car park at the Spanish Battery, at Tynemouth, he asked Lauren to remain in the car, he assured her that he would only be away a few minutes. As Hodder opened the door in the side of the monument a shaft of light so blindingly bright, flooded the interior of this rancid wretched place.

  Both Baxter’s and the dishevelled Palma’s eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the rare Tyneside sunshine that surged through the doorway. The door aperture acted like a man size picture frame, silhouetting Hodder and making him look for all the world like the robot ‘Gort’ from ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’…the original that is, not the disappointing remake!

  Baxter went ballistic, he went for Hodder ‘Where the hell have you been? Have you got any idea what it is liked to be locked up’?

  ‘I do’ interrupted Palma rubbing his eyes, still dazzled by the daylight.

  Turning to Palma, Hodder said ‘Just piss off, take that camping gear with you and don’t forget to respond to your bail’.

  Palma responded by rummaging through his pockets saying ‘Don’t know if I have my house keys’. As he took out the contents of his pocket Hodder saw two debit cards. ‘Give them to me’ said Hodder. In no mood to resist, Palma calmly handed them over, and Hodder examined them and said ‘Whose card is this’? ‘It’s mine, it’s for a false account that I have’.

  Hodder’s eyes widened when he saw the second card…it was Lauren’s. His voice took on a dark menacing tone which suggested, even to Palma that an extreme beating may not be far away. ‘Where did you get this one’? growled Hodder.

  ‘I got it off a bloke in a pub’.

  ‘Don’t give me that bullshit…now think very hard before you answer me again.

  ‘Where did you get it’? Palma seemed to shrink in size perhaps subconsciously, trying to make himself into a smaller target. ‘Honest, I got it off a bloke called ‘Daft Larry’ in The Clock, when I was in there with Parky. ‘Daft Larry got all of the camping gear and when we collected the stuff he just handed it to me…Ask Parky, he will tell you’.

  The words ‘If only I could’ filled Hodder’s brain. Hodder then said ‘I’m going to keep these. We will talk about them when you answer your bail. Now clear off before I change my mind’. Palma did not need to be told twice, he dismantled the tent in record time and looking like an over loaded bag lady, he fled across the open grassland in the direction of Pier Road and Tynemouth Village.

  Baxter was incandescent. ‘Okay, are you going to tell me what exactly why you locked me in there and what you were doing when I was’?

  Hodder instinctively knew that he could not tell the truth, so reverting to type, he said ‘I got a phone call from Bostock and he told me where he dropped Lauren off and that I had to go and get her’.

  ‘And exactly, where was she’?

  ‘Scotch Corner Services’ he lied.

  ‘So, why couldn’t I come with you instead of being locked up with that idiot’?

  ‘Because Jeff’ lied Hodder, I did not want you to get into any trouble, as I have said to you before, you will go far in the job if you keep your nose clean’.

  Baxter did not reply but thought ‘I may go far in the job, if I get as far away as possible from you’.

  Hodder interrupted Baxter’s thoughts when he said ‘I have Lauren in the car I have to get her home. Don’t mention any of this in the car she seems to be a bit traumatised because she was hooded during the journey. She has very little memory of what was going on’. As they walked briskly to the car, it began pouring with rain. Hodder said ‘I have told her that it the accident was an insurance scam. She does not know who she was with’.

  The journey back to the Hodder household was tense and silent. Hodder knew that his fate lay in how convinced Lauren was of the reason for her disappearance. He also knew that he would later have a much bigger task of convincing Grace of the facts. She would doubtless want the police to investigate or to maybe contact their insurance company. They did after all, have a badly damaged vehicle to contend with. It looked to Hodder as this was going to be yet another year without a summer holiday.

  As Hodder pulled up he looked at the front of his house. Looking through the front window and saw Grace. Her arms were folded as she stood there staring out blankly. Pain, anguish and worry were wrought all over her still beautiful face. The worry lines were all there as a direct result of Hodder, each one individually etched into her features, as a visible reminder to him of yet another one of his lies, broken promises or inevitable let downs.

  Within seconds Lauren was out of the car, the falling rain no match for the tears of relief that flowed down her cheeks. Lauren and Grace ran to each other and embraced, blindly oblivious to the rain or the curtain twitchers’ in the surrounding houses. Making their way inside, they went into the lounge where Baxter and Hannah embraced…it seemed to Hodder that he was very much at the back of the queue for affection that day.

  It’s a strange British tradition, that in a time of crisis the kettle is put on, and sensing that this these tender moments between Grace and Lauren were very much their own, Hannah ushered Baxter into the kitchen not to utilise his domestic skills but to pick his brain.

  ‘Where have you been? What have you been doing’?

  Having witnessed Hodder’s very obvious failure with the truth, and the effect that it has on those around him…he said ‘I have been with a prisoner all day’.

  She looked utterly puzzled and quizzed him further ‘I thought that you were with Jim’.

  ‘No, I haven’t he has told me that Lauren was the subject of an insurance scam and that he had to sort it out…he did not want me to be involved so I dealt with the prisoner’. Though not totally untrue, this was all just a bit too ‘Hodderesque’ for Baxter.

  As they brought the tea into the lounge things seemed to have calmed down considerably, but Lauren was still struggling to catch her breath as uninvited sobs resurfaced. She looked and sounded like a forlorn child, which in truth just an hour or so earlier she had been.

  Baxter made to pour the tea but noticed that there were only three cups…he still had a lot to learn as Hannah slapped the back of his wrist before taking him by the hand and gently interrupting said to Grace ‘We will be off now’.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to…why don’t you stay’?

  ‘No really, you have all
been through enough today. We don’t want to get under your feet. We really must be going’.

  Grace who was still holding Lauren’s hand released her grip, walked over to Hannah and tenderly kissed her cheek, she whispered ‘Thank you’. Fresh unrelated tears flowed once again. Nothing else needed to be said between the two women. Baxter and Hannah let themselves out and headed for Hannah’s place.

  Hodder was uncharacteristically moved by this very tender scene, but it soon dawned on him that Grace had not said a word to him, so he elected to break the silence. ‘I’m really sorry that it took longer than expected but I think things will be okay’. In fact, his mind was drawn to the film ‘The Sixth Sense’ and the role of Bruce Willis in particular, everyone appeared to be oblivious to his presence or what he was saying.

  Grace did not answer Hodder, instead, she stood up and said to Lauren ‘Come on let’s get you out of those clothes’. As she walked out of the room she glared in silence at Hodder. Just as she was closing the door he said ‘I have some loose ends to tie up at the office. I will only be half an hour’.

  Once again Grace did not respond, her eyes said it all. She had had enough. Hodder was caught in a dilemma, if he stayed he was in trouble if he went he would be in even deeper trouble. He had to go and he reasoned that by going he would, in some perverse way, be protecting Lauren and Grace. He left the house closing the door as silently as he dared.

  Hodder drove into the police station and was slipping in through the back door just as Ben Heath was walking out. Hodder wished that he could avoid his old friend but this, quite simply, was not going to happen. Heath said ‘Hello Jim, Any news on Lauren? How is she’?

  ‘It’s a bit of a long story. She was in a bit a bit of a daze. More shock than anything, but otherwise unhurt’.

  ‘Oh that’s good news. Do you fancy a drink’?

  ‘No thanks Ben, I just popped in for a minute. I’ve really got to get back home’.

  ‘Okay then’ said Heath. ‘You know that we will need to submit a report to me about the incident, but Jim, please take some time off…forget about the job. Your family is much more important. See you soon’. And with that Heath walked out of the building before quickly returning, and shouting along the corridor to Hodder…’Jim, you won’t have heard but a couple of bodies have been found at Kielder. Lucky old me has been nominated at the S.I.O. Shame you are not at work, I would have loved to have had you on my team’.

  A look of abject horror spread across Hodder’s face as the news filtered through. Heath said ‘Jim are you okay mate’?

  Hodder muttered ‘Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just been a tough old day’ as he shuffled towards the C.I.D. office.

  Hodder’s response had not been lost on Heath. Granted, he had been through a difficult day with his daughter, but when he told Hodder about the bodies at Kielder he sensed an unusual uneasiness in his colleague. Heath, put this down to the intuition of a seasoned Detective and he had been known to be wrong in the past.

  Meanwhile, Baxter and Hannah were enjoying a reassuring post-coital cuddle and a bottle of wine when she said ‘There is something wrong? Is it me’?

  ‘No’, he replied ‘it’s Hodder, he is up to something. He is acting very strangely’.

  Hannah responded by saying ‘It’s hardly surprising given the events of the day. But look on the bright side things have worked out okay in the end’.

  Baxter kissed her, but he didn’t have his mind on the job in hand because he found himself thinking…’But have things really worked out for the best’? It would be quite some time before Baxter could bring himself to tell Hannah about his ordeal with Palma…but he would eventually…he would have to.

  As Hodder walked further into the building, he heard laughter coming from the D.I.’s office. No doubt he was giving extra law tuition to one of the female temps. Well, he was nothing if not dedicated to the task. Suddenly, his door opened and the D.I. walked into the main office, hair ruffled and shirt partially unbuttoned.

  Even at a time like this Hodder found himself thinking ‘They must be selling condoms in the C.I.D. shop now. Whatever next’?

  ‘What are you doing here’? barked the plainly angry D.I.

  ‘I’m just getting some stuff from my desk and checking up to see that they have referenced off my daughter’s accident correctly’. ‘Ah, so they found her’?

  ‘Yeah, she was on the beach’, once again being inconsistent with his lies.

  ‘Well, congratulations to you’ said the D.I. with as much venom and sarcasm as he could muster in one sitting…’if you didn’t lose prisoners in the first place, as well as your daughter, I could be up at Kielder earning a fortune on a possible double murder…but oh no, thanks to the great Jim Hodder, I’ll be trawling through pointless actions looking for the scumbag you lost…mark my words…you will pay for this Hodder’.

  Now that was quite an outburst even by the D.I.’s standards. He clearly didn’t like to have his sex games or the potential for working on ‘outside enquiries’ disrupted.

  The senior guy left the office, and Hodder checked the computer and saw that, as requested Grace had called in to say that Lauren was with Hodder and that they would be home soon. As per the police, and thankfully for Hodder, no one was despatched to his home to verify this fact. So, he updated and ‘closed’ the incident himself. Very naughty, but understandable he would later argue.

  Hodder was just leaving his desk when his mobile rang. It was Randall-Ord. ‘Oh good evening, I hear that things turned out rather well for you today’.

  ‘In a manner of speaking’.

  ‘Well’, continued Randall-Ord I am in the ‘Quay Taphouse’. Would you care to join me for a celebratory drink’?

  ‘I’m really sorry Francis, I have family matters to attend to’.

  Feigning disappointment, Randall-Ord said ‘Oh. That is most disappointing. You, I am afraid, have more pressing matters to attend to. I shall expect you alone and soon’. Hodder instinctively knew what this meant, and he made his way to the pub.

  As usual ‘Big Cliff’ was there big smile on his face…barely able to conceal his laughter. Recognising that Hodder’s’ relationship with Randall-Ord was not borne out of mutual affection, he said ‘Your mucker is in the corner’.

  Cliff continued ‘Francis says that it’s your round…usual’?

  Hodder nodded and reached for his wallet. He paid for the drinks and took them over to Randall-Ord…’No recording tonight please this is strictly business. Mr Burrows was delighted to assist you with your slight problem. I am sure that you can see just how resourceful he can be’.

  ‘This is over Francis and make sure that you tell him that’.

  ‘I’m sure that given your sterling performance today that he will be most disappointed at your lack of gratitude…especially now that you are now implicated in three murders’.

  ‘What? That has got nothing to do with me’!

  ‘It’s got everything to do with you. Yes, indeed, you have the blood of Parks, Bostock and Bostock’s associate on your hands. Mr Burrow’s leaves no stone unturned, or for that matter, any loose ends that may cause him unnecessary problems in the future’?

  Hodder looked on in stunned silence as Francis continued ‘You see Jim, you are the only one without an alibi. At the time of these unfortunate incidents Mr Burrows was playing blackjack with me in a casino at least that is what the CCTV footage will show… On the other hand, the video footage that Mr Burrows has shows you at the scene at the time of the murders’.

  ‘I should shop the lot of you and take my chances, and tell Burrows that you are a Registered Police Informant ’.

  ‘Shop’ is such a crude word, Jim, but maybe I should ‘shop’ you to your D.I. when I see him at the next lodge meeting’.

  ‘Are you blackmailing me’?

  ‘In a word…’Yes’ unless, of course from time to time, you can accommodate the occasional request for assistance. Come on, have a drink’. With that Randall-Ord d
owned his drink, he went to the bar coming back with double Highland Parks and his obligatory crisps.

  ‘I hope that you choke to death you corrupt little weasel’ said Hodder.

  ‘Oh lighten up Jim, it’s not as if he hasn’t done anything for you…he is actually loyal and decent. Not a toff, but a gentleman in his own way’ said Randall-Ord wearing the look of a man who was holding all of the cards, and all of them aces.

  Hodder retreated into himself and silence. His mind was working overtime, but he could just not figure out a way to extricate himself from this very delicate, potentially disastrous situation.

  At first he thought that he should arrest Randall-Ord but at this point that would result in nothing more than certain humiliation and potential himself. Furthermore, if he had previously needed any convincing of Burrows capacity for violence and cunning, then he certainly had it now.

  Hodder was only vaguely aware of Randall-Ord returning with more Highland Parks which were drunk in silence. ‘Your round I think Jim…with all these proposed cuts in Legal Aid, I simply can’t afford to buy your drinks all night.

  So, Hodder dutifully went to the bar where ‘Big Cliff’ poured some very generous measures of Highland Park. ‘Big Cliff’ made a mental note to himself…‘If those two are going to continue drinking like that, I had better get some more of that stuff in’.

  Hodder drank on in silence before getting to his feet. ‘Francis, I’m off’.

  Francis, always overtly the gentleman, rose too, he extended his hand as he said ‘Goodnight old boy. Oh by the way it appears that my blood samples were lost en route to the lab. A stroke of luck don’t you think’? Hodder instinctively shook Randall-Ord’s hand before making his way through the crowded bar to the door.

  Francis Randall-Ord waited a few minutes before, with a ‘piggy little’ grin on his ‘piggy little’ face, he made a phone call. Hodder then returned to the office where he dealt with an urgent email, his last job before heading for home.

  About fifteen minutes later, Hodder was almost home when he rather belatedly became aware of blue flashing lights in his rear view mirror. The car behind flashed it’s headlights as an obvious indication for him to stop. Whilst he was doing so, Hodder was only vaguely aware that the front nearside wheel of his car brushed the kerb of the nearside grass verge. ‘Oop’s…No prob’ thought Hodder.

  As Hodder reached to get his ‘get out of jail free card’, otherwise known as his Warrant Card, there was a gentle rap on his window. He slid the window down, as the sweet smell of the pouring rain outside permeated the fumed filled interior of the car.

  The lone uniformed Police Officer then crouched down to enable him to be at the same eye level as Hodder.

  And looking directly into Hodder’s eyes, and speaking in a cold measured way ‘Gee-Gee’ said…’Have you been drinking tonight’? Hodder’s head dropped onto the steering wheel, and he instinctively knew that his night was not going to be over any time soon.

  Was there no situation that a Police Officer, and Jim Hodder in particular, could not make any worse?

  The End?

  About the Author.

  With over thirty years legal experience behind him, Ian Douthwaite can draw on vast resources of experience be that from his years spent as a Detective, or those spent as a prosecutor for a blue chip company. He has also worked as an independent legal consultant and music promoter for many years.

  He certainly has a story to tell.

  What separates this author from many others is his detailed attention to the human condition in all its variants. Not for him, grand shootouts, exotic locations or high speed chases.

  This is street crime played out at street level.

  His stories perambulate at a pace which gives the reader the opportunity to think ‘What would I do in that situation’?

  Granted, most readers would and should never encounter such situations, but the culmination of each dramatic chapter leaves the reader thinking ‘How would I get out of that’.

  ‘The Sweet Smell of Rain’ is Douthwaite’s first novel and is written with a darkly dramatic and understated sense of humour.

  We all think that we know of the characters who populate this version of the real world, though most of us would be pleased that we do not encounter these individuals personally.

  The novel is written from the perspective of Detective Sergeant Jim Hodder, a man so wearied by the day to day battle of all things criminal, that it is hardly surprising that when he has to choose between family loyalty and professional obligations that he is torn in two.

  Read ‘The Sweet Smell of Rain’ and judge for yourself.

 
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