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Book online «Condemned R.C. Bridgestock (good fiction books to read TXT) 📖». Author R.C. Bridgestock



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Charley’s expressionless face told him to get on with it, and she closed the door firmly behind him.

‘Sorry we missed the briefing ma’am. We’d a bit of business to take care of.’ Ben’s eyes were bright, his round face sporting shiny, red, chubby cheeks. He groaned as he made himself comfortable in a visitor’s chair next to Terry. ‘Cold weather does nothing for my knackered knee,’ he said, rubbing it hard. He had a rasp to his voice, but his face carried a charismatic smirk that could have given any would-be Don Juan a run for his money.

Straight-faced, Charley leant down to retrieve the Racing Post from her bin, unwound it, and opened it up on the desk in front of her. Her eyes moved from the marked pages to the men’s faces, then to the clock on the wall behind them. She cocked her head to one side, purposefully. ‘That wouldn’t have anything to do with the 2.30 at Wolverhampton, or the 8.10 at Leicester last night would it?’

The seconds ticked away loudly as she waited for an answer. Ben and Terry turned to each other for back-up, their bodies tense. Charley’s remark had caught the old-timers off guard. The men stared blankly at each other for a moment. Once upon a time, a challenge by the ex-army supervisors of the day would have resulted in the threat of violence. Nowadays, retired from the Force and back working as civilian employees they were mostly left to their own devices. With no pressure to run around, break into places, find out the big secret or catch the villains, they were never properly challenged. Which could be why they were no nearer catching the Dixons than they had been in the beginning.

‘Okay, gents. I don’t want to fall out, but let’s get one thing straight. I won’t tolerate anything other than professionalism in my team. I don’t have time to play games. This Incident Room isn’t a betting office. What you do in your own time is up to you, but if it starts affecting any of my team, or casts a shadow over the murder enquiry, then beware. Understood?’

‘I can explain…’ Ben started.

‘Don’t bother. I expect a hundred per cent commitment from you, while we work together, as I do from any of my team. And the only form that I want Ricky-Lee studying right now, is that of suspects.’

Charley’s smile was fixed. ‘Right, let’s start over, shall we? No further tossing it off and testing my patience in future, and we’ll get along just fine. Oh, and don’t ever be late for a briefing again. Agreed?’

The two detectives appeared to have the sense to accept the reprimand gracefully, and were no doubt thankful that that was all it was.

The hot drinks that Wilkie brought into the office at that moment helped Ben and Terry to compose themselves. Charley felt the glance that came her way from Wilkie as she took her hot drink from the detective’s hand, and she proffered a softly spoken thank-you to him, with a gentle smile. She knew she had to gain the old-timers’ respect if she was going to get them on side, and she hoped that she had at least given them food for thought. ‘You can’t fool them who’ve fooled others,’ her Dad used to say, and she knew that was undeniably true.

With that, Charley dropped her reprimanding tone. Her change of attitude didn’t go unnoticed by her companions. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. I need your help to put Brad and Brittany Dixon in, or out, of the murder enquiry as quickly as possible. I understand that they are wanted, and that your team has evidence in respect of outstanding, unsolved armed robberies?’

Guilt and relief were written all over the faces that looked back at her from across the desk. They knew she had them on the back foot. They knew she meant business. Playing it with a straight bat was the best way forward Ben decided, and then he hoped she’d let sleeping dogs lie.

‘The two are wanted for interview in respect of two cold-case armed robberies, ma’am. Brad Dixon has been caught on CCTV on both occasions. Once, when he lifted his balaclava in a shop raid, and on another occasion he is seen discarding a tab-end prior to going into a store which they raided. We managed to get DNA from that cigarette butt. These two crimes are part of a series of six robberies that the Dixons are thought to be linked to by the identification of clothing, and also from words spoken, but, as yet, the pair haven’t admitted responsibility.’

‘Have they been previously interviewed about these crimes?’

Ben nodded. ‘Yes, they were questioned in prison when serving time for the other offences and they were having none of it, but back then we didn’t have the evidence that we have now. That’s why we are presently trying to locate them.’

‘So, you don’t know where they are?’ Charley asked.

Ben dropped his eyes to the floor. ‘No, we don’t know.’

Charley heard herself tut and corrected herself immediately.

Terry went on hurriedly, speaking for the first time. ‘The suggestion is they are in Spain.’ He lowered his voice, and nudged his partner. ‘Glad they’ve gone somewhere warm. Me and him are hoping to get a trip out there once they’re traced and detained,’ he grinned.

Ben appeared more subdued. ‘They’re circulated as wanted with all the necessary precautions, ma’am.’ he said.

Charley sat back. ‘Tell me, what enquiries have we done in the UK?’

‘What do you mean?’ said Terry.

‘Well, for starters, do we know for certain that they’ve left the UK?’

The men looked at each other. ‘Well, er, the suggestion is yes, but we don’t know for certain, we’ve only just had the case allocated to us,’ said Terry.

His words were met with a frown from Charley. ‘Three months to be exact, according to my notes.’ Charley paused. Both men studiously avoided eye contact with the SIO. ‘With a view to tracing

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