Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Bloody frustrating Ellen Hartley’s vehicle hasn’t been located,’ said Vicky, pulling her chair closer to her desk.

Raj sitting opposite her played around with her computer mouse, waiting for a response. ‘We can’t do anymore.’ Clicking a button on the mouse a few times brought up the briefing screen. ‘See,’ she said turning her screen around for the younger DS to see. ‘His details have been flagged up again to every officer.’

Vicky yawned so hard it brought tears to her eyes. ‘Do you know if there is any priority stuff back from Forensic this morning?’

‘Bloody computers,’ Ned said throwing down his pen on the desk from a great height. He picked up his mug, stood, stretched and headed towards the kitchen to refill it.

Raj stood, and walked towards the printer in the centre of the room and gathered the printed papers. She frowned at him as he passed.

Vicky lifted her empty mug in Ned’s direction, ‘I suppose that had nothing to do with an impressionable young typist doing your work for you? Mine’s two sugars,’ she smiled sweetly.

Ned raised his eyebrows as he took it from her hand. ‘How come you’re so happy this morning?’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘Got laid last night?’

Vicky waved him on. ‘Act your age, not your shoe size just for once can’t you?’ She turned to hide the little blush that she felt on her cheeks.

‘How old do you think I am, seriously?’ he said preening himself in front of the mirrored, glass partition.

Suddenly Dylan’s door burst open, which was enough to make Ned jump a foot high. ‘Call all officers and civilian personnel from both investigations back to Harrowfield incident room for an urgent briefing at twelve noon,’ he said, then promptly retreated back into his office. Adrenalin pumping through his body, he could barely contain his excitement. He knew they were on the verge of solving both murders. The phone rang and Gary Warner was on the line.

‘Sir, we’ve got intelligence that Malcolm Reynolds is due to board a flight back to Spain within the hour. I thought you’d like to know. He’s under surveillance.’ Dylan’s ears caught the words, but his mind found it hard to accept them.

‘After all this time I’m going to feel his collar, for the murder of Larry Banks and all the other people who have died because of the drugs empire he created.’

Dylan’s heart was in his mouth. He looked out into the CID office in a trance-like state, to the seat where the deceased detective sergeant Larry Banks had once sat – Vicky turned around, saw him looking at her, got up and walked to wards his door. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ she said. For some reason he was filled with emotion. His reply laboured. He shook his head slowly.

‘No, no.’ Dylan turned away and opened his desk drawer. He slid his hand to the back and retrieved an envelope. Putting it on the desk directly in front of him he stared at it, in silence, for a moment or two. As if contemplatively whether he should open it, again.

It was Vicky’s turn to shake her head as she closed Dylan’s office door quietly behind her. ‘There’s something up,’ she said to Raj and Ned. ‘I’ve only seen that look once before.’

Dylan slowly, slid his finger beneath the flap that was yellowed at its curled-up corners. As he did so he took a deep breath before he pulled out the unfolded papers. Dylan hated loose ends; unfinished business. He accepted that Liz Reynolds had been murdered as a consequence of greed, but greed by his one-time colleague and friend was still hard to stomach. How could he have been so naive to have taken DS Banks words at face value? Most probably he decided because at times a police officer has to rely on his colleagues in a life and death situation. ‘The DNA’s confirmed the body is that of Detective Sergeant Larry Banks of Harrowfield CID,’ he read.

‘And that’s not all,’ he heard his colleague John Benjamin say at the time as he handed him the letter from Larry’s solicitor.

I crossed the line, and knowing the kind of person you are, I can’t expect you to understand. I’m writing this because if I know Malcolm Reynolds, he’ll be intent on revenge and won’t be satisfied until he knows I have taken my last breath. Who can blame him? The drink was my downfall, I don’t need to tell you that, but I do want you to know the truth. Liz was being blackmailed and needed my help. I let her down by taking the money, but believe me I honestly never thought the blackmailer would kill her.I also let you and the team down Jack I’m sorry.

P.S. You work too hard. Don’t let the job ruin your life. You should work to live, not live to work.

The personnel from both murder enquiries filed past Dylan’s office. He heard their speculations of what might have occurred to require the urgent meeting and smiled faintly. The assembled voices grew in volume, intensity and excitement.

At twelve noon Dylan stood at the front of the team, with his detective sergeants Vicky Hardacre, Rajinder Uppal, Nev Duke and Andy Wormald sat alongside. Turning slowly in a semi-circle the Detective Inspector faced each one, seated or stood. Some wore sceptical looks. They quietened, sat back, folded their arms and leant against the wall or filing cabinets – wherever there was space. There remained a little bustling and muffled chatter as late arrivers squeezed in on the fringes. Dylan waited patiently for a few moments for silence.

‘Thank you for coming in at such short notice.’ Dylan’s voice was serious as he spoke. ‘A short time ago I had an update from Forensic.’ He nodded towards David Funk who he’d identified stood at the back, by the door next to Rachael the young police officer who had been at the scene. Heads turned in his direction and he appeared shy. She touched his arm. ‘Due to their excellent work they have identified the person responsible for the murder of Julie Dixon.’ There was a wave of muttering, and many exchanged glances. ‘Also this person has been identified by DNA as a match to the Patti Heinz murder.’ An audible gasp sprung from some. ‘For now, the information I am about to share with you must remain within these four walls. We can’t risk the media hearing about this, just yet.’ He paused. ‘When the time is right I’ll release a statement through Connie Seabourne in the press office.’ Dylan looked around the room. It wasn’t hard to find Connie in the crowd because of her light blonde hair. She smiled at his acknowledgement, felt the colour rising in her cheeks and shook a little as her stomach did a little flip-flop with excitement and nerves.

‘Julie Dixon’s blood was found on front of Hartley’s left sock, therefore it could be suggested that he had a hole in his footwear he was wearing at the time?’ said Dylan.

Ned punched the air. ‘Let him try and get out of that one,’ he said nudging the man sat next to him.

Dylan raised his eyebrows. ‘They also gained a DNA sample from his clothing which matches the outstanding unknown DNA that was found on the cloth, under the kitchen sink.’

‘Yes, like DS Wormald says, obviously due to this recent information the priorities and focus of our enquires have changed and new priorities will be raised,’ said Dylan. ‘Now, if you haven’t taken lunch yet, then please do.’ Dylan looked from left to right at his detective sergeants. ‘The debrief will be at six o’clock.’

The detectives sat around Dylan’s desk. The lines of enquiry that required urgent pursuit were discussed. Dylan checked his mobile phone repeatedly.

‘I want someone to visit the house of the occupant on Burford Avenue, we know they took a delivery via Lucy Waldon’s Internet delivery network on the day of Patti’s murder. First and foremost I want to know if they saw the delivery driver, and if so can they give us a description.’

‘You hoping that there are some connections with the Hartleys and the Heinzs sir?’ said Andy.

‘Well, we know that Lucy Waldon delivered parcels for an Internet business, some we know are dodgy, and Gary Warner from regional crime is on top of the drugs aspect,’ said Dylan, looking at his watch. ‘Get Ellen Hartley’s home and the room that Reggie occupies searched again, and at the same time let’s take Lucy’s home apart. I want to know everything about the family.’

Raj put pen to paper. ‘We’ll need to identify officers for specific tasks, once Hartley is located and arrested whilst we have time on our hands. Search, examination of vehicle, prioritising exhibits, interviewing anyone he has connections with or is in contact with,’ she wrote.

Dylan looked from Raj to Vicky. ‘I want you and Vicky to interview him as you both have in-depth knowledge of the independent enquiries. We’ll discuss the strategic approach. Initially it is my intention to arrest him for both murders but we will start with the murder of Julie Dixon and work backwards to the murder of Patti Heinz.’

Vicky sat staring at the photo of Reggie Hartley. Suddenly she let it fall. ‘You know we put the note through the door of 9, Union Street, due to the information we were given on the Patti Heinz murder, saying we wished to speak to the occupants?’

‘Yes, and the address of the delivery parcel company. If Reggie Hartley was living there, he probably saw the note before she did... if she did.’ Vicky’s eyes were bright. ‘You don’t think, he thought that Julie might have named him as the person delivering the parcel to Burford Avenue do you and panicked?’

‘According to his mother, he got on with Julie better than his sister. Maybe he was the one Julie was seeing?’

Dylan’s phone was on speaker. ‘Force control, Inspector Stonestreet. We have a report that the vehicle you have circulated has made off from Birch services, M62 eastbound. Unit’s responding and the helicopter is en route. It is believed there is one male occupant.’

Dylan put the phone down. Vicky turned up the volume on her police radio and stood it on Dylan’s desk. The team were silent.

The commentary was rapid. ‘Bravo Foxtrot 42, we have sight of the vehicle ahead on the A672, Ripponden heading towards Sowerby Bridge.’

Dylan’s stomach tightened. ‘Don’t lose it. Don’t you dare bloody lose it,’ he said, the ball of his right foot pressing down on the floor under his desk. The next voice they heard over the airways on the dedicated channel was Sergeant Lisa Rothwell’s, the observer in the police helicopter. She had taken over the commentary from the eye in the sky, to aid the units pursuing the vehicle on the ground.

Vicky fist was a clenched ball on the chair arm that drummed to the rhythm of her beating heart. Andy’s leant towards the radio, his teeth clenched.

‘Units requesting vehicle stop. Vehicle increasing speed,’ Lisa informed all units.

Units ahead blocked the entrance to the Triangle turn off, ensuring the vehicle stayed on the A58.

‘Stinger deployed,’ came the shout. ‘Vehicle continuing at speed with deflated flat tyres.’

There was a pause. The five detectives looked across the table at each other – eyes wide, breath held.

‘Target vehicle off the road, crashed into the canal bridge. One male occupant out on foot, running. All units male suspect in canal attempting to evade capture.’ Lisa’s commentary was clear and concise. ‘All units, suspect reached opposite banking. Suspect attempting to climb out. Dog handler deployed. Suspect out and running. Police dog in pursuit... Suspect detained by police dog. All units suspect detained.’

‘Thank God.’ Dylan’s shoulders dropped as he heaved a sigh of relief. He looked up to the ceiling, leant forward and picked up the radio. ‘Control,’ he said, making eye contact with the others, one by one. ‘Can you pass on my compliments to all involved and can we have the car back here to be searched.’

‘Reggie Hartley has been arrested for two counts of murder and at this time is en route to Harrowfield Hospital to be treated for an ankle injury, and several dog bites that require stitches.’

‘Remind the officer searching him that we need his clothing as an exhibit, wet or otherwise.’

‘Why would anyone in their right mind think of running away from a police dog?’ said Vicky.

‘He won’t do it again,’ said Dylan, his smile spreading across his face. He allowed himself a chuckle.

‘You’re evil,’ Vicky said screwing up her eyes. ‘Naively, I once volunteered to help an old flame train his police dog. I put the thick protective sleeve on...’

‘No, it cost him a week in Tenerife.’ She giggled. ‘I bruise easily, but he wasn’t to know that.’

‘He’d be wet, and cold too. Brrr... ‘ Raj shivered. ‘I bet it was really painful.’

‘I’d be more worried about what diseases I might have picked up from the canal,’ said Andy.

‘Well, he’s alive and in custody so Raj and Vicky will have chance to find out,’ said Nev.

Dylan walked out of his office after the others. ‘Anyone heard anything from Gary Warner?’ His question was met by the shaking of heads.

‘I’m at the scene Jack, the boot of the car is stacked with drugs. No wonder he didn’t want to stop for the police, and ran when he was. My officers are instructed not to speak to him but record anything that he might say to them. And, I’ll tell you now he’s singing like a bloody canary.’

‘He is. And, if what he says is true Malcolm Reynold’s won’t be seeing the light of day for a long time, and we’ll get the bloody pole dancing club shut.’

Dylan sat down in his chair, his head in his hands. A knock came at this door. Gary Warner stood before him and nodded. No words were necessary.

Gary nodded. ‘It looks like we have just locked up one of his latest recruits a Reggie Hartley for both our murders. If that wasn’t good enough, his car boot is full of drugs, and can’t stop talking about Reynolds.

‘Everything comes to those who wait eh? It’s been a good day all round. His sister Lucy Waldon and Marchant along with others have been arrested. Now I know why we didn’t find the haul at the club.’

Within the hour Dylan had heard that Hartley had complained of pains in his head, suffered a bruise to his forehead and as a matter of precaution the hospital had decided that they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. ‘He has received forty-two stitches for the dog bites, and his wet clothing has been removed by the hospital staff and seized by me,’ said Emily. ‘His ankle is badly sprained but not broken.’

‘Have we sufficient uniformed officers on duty to guard the prisoner overnight?’ Dylan asked Stonestreet. ‘The last thing I want is for anything to go wrong now, or the media getting into his room to take pictures of him in his hospital bed.’

Stonestreet grinned. ‘It’s going to be a long day tomorrow Dylan,’ he said. ‘Get the Chief Constable updated, send a press report and call it a day. I’m on duty till two o’clock tomorrow morning.’

Larry Banks might have let him down, there was always one bad apple – but one thing he knew for sure Reginald Stonestreet, his mentor, would never let him down. Everything he was, he owed to him, because he had taught him all he knew as a police officer, in CID.

The following hour went swiftly. He discussed with the team what required doing that evening and then he sent a short message for the information of the Chief Constable and also one to the press office that read.

‘A man was arrested earlier today in connection with two recent murders of young women in Harrowfield. He is under police guard in hospital after injuring himself attempting to evade capture. Today also the long-awaited reign of local drug dealer Malcolm Reynolds, who absconded to Spain some years ago, after the discovery of Detective Sergeant Larry Banks’ body was found has finally come to an end. More information to follow.’ He had agreed the release with Gary Warner. Dylan picked up his phone.

‘I’m sending over a press release. Do me a favour will you and hold off releasing it as long as you can. I don’t want to create any more problems than necessary for the hospital staff.’

‘What time are you off Vicky?’ asked Dylan as he shrugged on his overcoat. She peered out of the half glass door that separated Dylan’s office from the CID office. ‘What time’s Gary off?’ she said. She turned back to Dylan with a grin on her face. ‘I’m happy to work over.’