Chapter Five

Buck had gone through the list emailed over from Dan, checking each name through the intelligence system to see where they were at and if they would be in a position to deliver such a threat.

Of the 20 names listed, most of them were practically nobodies as far as the Police were concerned. That is to say, they had either no criminal history or very little. Not surprisingly, most of these were people he had encountered since going private.

The other names, however, included some heavyweight criminals. Going through this shorter list reminded Buck of the old days, racing round like a crazy man with his senior partner, Detective Dan Crowley. Dan took him under his wing and taught him the ins and outs of being a good detective and a good street cop, taught him about being thorough and persistent, turning over rocks and seeing what crawled out, paying attention to detail, talking to people and even more importantly, listening to people.

‘People want to tell us stuff,’ he had told the new probie one day, ‘Sometimes they don't know it, but they do. But cops usually just don't listen, they get too caught up in getting this job sorted out so they can move on to the next one and forget to actually do the job right in the first place. The best detectives are good interviewers. You want to be a good detective, Bucko?’

Buck had nodded eagerly. ‘Of course.’

‘Then be a good interviewer. It's just conversing with people. Keep your gob shut and your ears open. Got it?’

‘Of course, yeah. Gob shut, ears open.’

Dan had grinned and given that little nod.

‘Yeah, of course.’

Buck went to the next name, one he recognised straight off. A patched gang member they had arrested for a shotgun robbery, a career criminal with a list as long as your arm and the personal integrity of a used tea bag. He also had a huge grudge against Dan, who he thought had disrespected him. He'd threatened to kill the detective during his trial, which did nothing but bring him more grief and an extra six months jail on top of the nine years he got for the robbery.

He was still a serving prisoner, so would've had to have organised an associate to deliver the note. Buck put him on the B list of suspects and moved on.

The next name was a child rapist, a true psychopath in every sense of the word. Apparently he'd found God while in prison, and had sent Dan a letter from maximum security explaining how Dan's judgement day would come and he would be judged by a higher court.

No explicit threats were made but the letters had continued for a couple of years, every six months. The guy had even found out Dan's birth date and sent him birthday cards for a couple of years.

Eventually it was stopped by the prison authorities, but Buck knew it had affected Dan. He wasn't scared of the guy as such, but he was certainly unnerved. He had once described the bad guy to Buck, in a moment of sombre reflection, as ‘pure evil.’

Of all the crooks Dan had dealt with over the years, including some of the worst criminals to ever come out of the mean streets of South Auckland, he had always rated this guy as the worst.

Buck moved him to the A list, and moved on.

There were a couple of serial rapists there, guys serving long terms of imprisonment and in no position to deliver the note, but the man who put them there certainly wasn't on their Christmas card lists. They made the B team.

The last name was a killer, a cold blooded murderer. He had just the one conviction, for bashing and then stabbing his wife. But he hadn't just stabbed her, it wasn't some domestic that got a bit out of control, this was a totally calculated, pre-meditated execution. After realising that she was finally going to leave him, he had put a plan in place.

His wife had walked into the dining room to be met by a blow from behind by a rolling pin. This of itself had nearly killed her, and he had then got more violent. 72 stab wounds to every limb and part of her body had come from a kitchen knife, enough to bleed her out if he'd left her alone. But he hadn't, he'd then cut her throat and made sure she was dead before trying to cut his own throat.

Dan had arrived on the scene minutes later following a 111 call from the neighbour, and found the killer lying on the floor with a knife in his hand and a gaping neck wound. He had disarmed and restrained the offender, then stemmed the blood flow until an ambulance arrived.

Rather than ending it all, the offender's plan had been stymied by Dan's quick actions, and he ended up with life in prison, which didn't please him at all. He had also threatened to kill Dan, and was quite serious about it at the time. Six years later though? Buck put him on the B list as well.

He drafted an email to Fingerprint Section listing the details of the two groups of suspects and asking them to be checked against the letter. For now, there wasn’t much else he could do.

He tossed the file into his tray and sat back, checking the time. Nearly knock-off time.

The front door opened and someone stepped into the foyer of the small community constable’s office. Buck was still getting up when Detective Inspector Hugh Kennedy stalked through and into the back office.

He was a small man with severely thinning hair that dropped dandruff on the shoulders of his otherwise immaculate dark suit. He carried an attaché case as usual and looked like he’d walked into someone else’s fart.

‘Ahh, sir...’

‘Constable Buckmaster.’ The DI took a seat across the desk from him, carefully placing the attaché case between his feet. ‘Nearly home time is it?’

‘Nearly sir, yeah.’ Buck sat back down uneasily. ‘Just tidying a few bits up.’

‘I hear that Dan Crowley has made a complaint, some kind of a threat.’

‘Yeah.’ Buck nodded slowly, wondering how Kennedy knew that. ‘Yeah, he did. Some anonymous letter writer.’

‘Suspects?’ Kennedy’s grey eyes were cold and emotionless.

‘Only about 20, sir.’ Buck went for levity and failed miserably.

Kennedy gave no indication of even hearing him.

‘What stage is the complaint at?’

‘Well, I’ve just entered it in the system, I’ve taken a statement from Molly, who actually received the letter...’

‘So not much then.’

Buck felt his cheeks flush.

‘Well I only just got it...’

Kennedy stuck one small hairy hand out.

‘Give me the file,’ he said, ‘I’ll assign it appropriately.’

‘I was going to do it myself, sir...’

‘As a favour to your old buddy? Don’t you think you’ve done him enough favours, Constable?’ Kennedy cast a critical eye around the small office. ‘And look where it got you.’ His gaze came back to Buck. ‘I thought we’d already had this discussion that any enquiry files you generate are to come to me first, none of this one-man-band cowboy stuff anymore. You are a community constable, not an investigator. This is not your job.’ He allowed himself a slight smile, exposing small, sharp teeth when he did so. ‘Of course, you were a detective once, and we both know how that ended, don’t we?’

Buck’s cheeks burned with anger and he bit hard on his lip, when every fibre in his body wanted to surge across the desk and throttle the man opposite him.

Kennedy stood and picked the file up from Buck’s tray. He opened the attaché case, placed the file inside, and snapped the catches shut again.

‘Yes, I would have thought you’d learned your lesson about giving Dan Crowley any favours.’

With that he turned on his heel and stalked out, leaving Buck to seethe.