Witchmoor Edge (10 page)

Aha, Millicent thought. Out loud she said, "I
want to get back and sort out one or two work related things before
the night is out. Can you spare ten minutes to drive up to Baildon
when you've finished."

"I think there would be time," N'Dibe agreed,
"If you give me the address."

Millicent went into the house, picking up the
mail as she did - she had left that morning before it arrived. She
laid out cups, saucers and biscuits and filled the kettle, before
glancing through the envelopes. There was a bill from Yorkshire
electricity, a circular from a local estate agent offering to get a
good price for her house with a low commission charge, a begging
letter from a charity and some company offering her the chance to
win £100,000. She threw the letters unopened on the counter top and
went into the living room, where she sat down in an armchair.

Millicent recalled the little incident at HQ
that afternoon, when she had the sudden flash of insight. The
actual correctness of the idea was yet to be tested, but these ...
whatever you called them ... these ideas had been right before. How
did these sudden flashes square with what she had been listening to
and seeing tonight? Clearly the human mind had access to
information it didn't have at a conscious level. Her thoughts were
interrupted by the ringing of the front door bell.

Millicent let in Tobias N'Dibe and he entered
the sitting room politely and sat down on the settee when
invited.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Tea I think. I have to ration myself to
coffee, the caffeine is bad for me."

"I have de-caff."

"Then coffee will be most welcome."

Millicent went into the kitchen and switched
the kettle on before returning to the living room.

"You are concerned about something?" N'Dibe
said. "I detected it earlier, during the meal, but it was not at
the front of your mind then."

"It was something trivial that happened at a
briefing session in the incident room," Millie said, and described
what happened.

N'Dibe nodded slowly. "What you described
could almost be your training as a detective coming through.
Millicent started to object that it was a flash of knowing but
N'Dibe held up a hand to silence her.

"I did not say that it was such a thing," he
said, "Only that could almost be that. At the stone circle last
week you described what I felt was an involuntary psychism. Tonight
you displayed considerable natural talent in dowsing. I suspect
that your training as a detective exerts some control over your
talent."

"For twenty two years the American military
and the Stanford Research Institute cooperated in an experiment in
remote viewing, some of which was spectacularly successful. They
had remote viewers who had no more than a well-defined target and a
lead in period of relaxation before a project. I usually use a
process of relaxing an individual then raising their thought until
they are in contact with their own higher self. In your case it may
be in order just to relax and view."

"Where did you learn all this?" Millicent
asked.

N'Dibe smiled. "Some things are just a matter
of reading - many books over many years," he said. "I also belong
to the SRIA".

"SRIA?"

"It stands for Societas Rosicruciana in
Anglia. They are what you might call Masonic Rosicrucians. They are
the body to which the original founders of the Order of the Golden
Dawn belonged first. The SRIA is Masonic and does not initiate
women, so many members are involved with other organisations which
do."

"It sounds like black magic or
something."

N'Dibe smiled again. "The SRIA requires
members to be Christians as well as Masons," he said. "Now I think
I can help you with your ... err ... insights. Call me when you
really need to know something. Using your talent to order will help
to control it."

N'Dibe handed her a business card. "You have
e-mail?" he asked.

"Both at Police HQ and here, though I don't
use it much here."

"Then you can contact me easily. Here is my
e-mail address." He passed her a business card.

Millicent glanced at it, and then put it in
her handbag, which was on the floor beside the chair.

"Now, N’Dibe continued, tell me, have you
ever taken drugs recreationally?"

"No. Why?"

"Probably a little cannabis does no harm, but
the consciousness changing drugs bring on the kind of very
undesirable uncontrolled psychism I mentioned. Other hard drugs
change the personality completely. We would not wish to work with
anyone who has partaken,"

"I see," Millicent said. "I'm a pretty awful
hostess. I boiled the kettle without making the drinks,"

She got up and went back into the kitchen,
switched the kettle on again, made the coffee and carried a tray
into the living room where N'Dibe was checking something in a
pocket diary.

"The Monday just gone was the new moon," he
remarked obscurely. "Could you arrange to be free on the Sunday of
this week?"

Millicent thought briefly. "I don't see why
not," she said. "Why?"

"Several of the group saw you at close
quarters tonight and would like to work with you. It is now up to
you to decide whether you would like to work with us."

Millicent was not clear in her own mind
afterwards why she had simply said, "Yes, I would."

Chapter 7: Wednesday 15th August (am)

DC Tommy Hammond, DC Gary Goss and the three
uniformed men didn't exactly rehearse their little play, but they
did discuss what they intended to do before they left HQ at
Witchmoor Edge.

Millicent's instructions, approved by CDI
Cooke, were to make the pick up of Koswinski on supposed suspicion
of murder as realistic as possible. Her idea was to try and put the
frighteners on the young villain, using police bail if necessary.
Although she didn't really think the yob was guilty of a crime
beyond breaking and entering, there seemed no other way to find out
what had happened in the old warehouse between eleven o���clock and
just turned twelve on the night of the fire.

The two police cars swerved into the parking
area in front of the walk-up flats, blue lights flashing, and
screeched to a halt. The two detectives jumped from the cars and
started to run for the stairs, followed by the two uniform men. The
fifth PC stood watch over the cars, standing with doors wide open
and lights still flashing.

The four policemen stormed up the steps to
the second floor and banged at the door of number 32. A scruffy
youth of about twenty or twenty-two opened the door. He was wearing
a stained T-shirt, jeans and rather seedy Nike trainers. He stood
there blinking.

"John Koswinski?" Hammond asked, though he
knew full well it was .

"Yeah. Why do ..."

"Get your coat. We're taking you in to answer
questions about the murders of Kevin Musworth, Simon Hunter, Wayne
Sansom and Jody Baker."

"But I never even met ..."

"I said get your coat," Hammond snapped.
"We'll talk about it at the station."

Koswinski fetched a jacket and was marched
down the stairs between the two uniformed men, Goss leading and
Hammond following at the rear. In the back of one car he was seated
next to a uniformed PC with a silent Hammond in the front with the
driver. The others used the second car.

At Witchmoor Edge HQ Koswinski was marched to
an interview room and left there with a different officer. Hammond
and Goss entered and Goss set the tape recorder going.

"DC Hammond and DC Goss," Hammond said into
the microphone. "First interview with John Koswinski about the
murder of Simon Hunter, suspected murder by drowning of Kevin
Musworth and an unidentified male at about midnight on August 11th.
Time is nine fifteen a.m. on Thursday 16th of August."

"Now," Hammond said. "Where did you go with
Musworth, Sansom and Baker last Saturday between ten thirty, when
they wouldn't let you into the Apocalypse, and arriving at the
warehouse on Cartwright’s Wharf?"

Koswinkis jaw dropped slightly. He was taken
aback by Hammond's apparent knowledge and uncertain just how much
was guesswork. He stalled belligerently.

"I don't have to tell you nothing," he said,
shaken by the speed of events and sullen. "And you can't prove I
was there," he added

"Look son," Hammond said. "You were seen
together near the warehouse just before the fire. You were seen
from the bridge climbing out of the canal, dripping wet, the bloke
saw you close to, just three minutes later. Musworth could swim,
but he was drowned and they pulled Hunter out of the canal with his
head smashed in. "

The remark about the bridge was a lie to
cover for the old lady and the bit about them being seen earlier
was a downright lie, but it was not a serious one, he thought, and
anyway, witnesses might be found.

"It doesn't matter anyway," the DC said, "We
know you were there, but I was just curious."

Hammond pressed on. "What am I supposed to
think?" he said. "You're seen with three live blokes and now one of
them is dead and one is missing. Either you did it or you didn't.
If you didn't do it, tell us what happened and we'll try and prove
you didn't do it."

Koswinski weighed up Hammond's words. He
thought they wouldn't be able to prove anything, but they could
give him a lot of hassle and grief. Moreover, they didn't seem to
know anything about him being there earlier in the evening and he
needed to keep that quiet. Since he didn't do anything, at least
nothing much, later that night, maybe he could get rid of them by
telling them more or less what happened.

"All right," he said. "I didn't do nothing so
I may as well tell you what happened, though it were a bit funny in
places."

"Funny?" Goss queried.

"Odd. Like the fire. That wasn't nothing to
do with us. There was this sort of deep bang and a huge blaze
started everywhere at once."

You think someone started it
deliberately?

"Sort of," Koswinski said. "More like a
terrorist bomb."

"I think," said Hammond, "that you'd better
begin at the beginning. You went from the Apocalypse to the
warehouse?"

"We stopped by an off-licence for some more
cans, but yeah, we went more or less straight to t' warehouse."

"Why?"

"We hadn't nowhere else to go," Koswinski
said. "They wouldn't let us in the Youth Centre, but that's a crap
place anyway. Then this bouncer wouldn't let us in the
Apocalypse."

"Why not?" Hammond asked.

"He said Sansom and Barker were too young and
Musworth and me were too drunk."

"Did he say you were banned?" Goss asked.

"I never gave him chance. Drunk? I give him
drunk. Then another bouncer came and joined him, otherwise I'd' ve
creamed him."

Goss agreed with Cruikshank and Norris, who
had both described him as ... 'an aggressive little bugger, even
when sober' ... All the same, he prudently said nothing.

"So what happened at the warehouse?" Hammond
asked.

"We got in through a ground floor window and
sat in a corner having another bevvy."

"How did you know about the window?" Hammond
asked.

Koswinski swallowed and tried to sound
casual. "Musworth knew about it," he said. "He’d been in there
before with Sansom. The whole thing was his idea."

Hammond rather doubted that, especially as
neither was likely contradict Koswinski. It was possible anyway.
"Go on," he prompted. "What happened next?"

"Musworth starts wandering around. He says
he's found some tramp dossing in a corner and starts kicking him.
Barker and Sansom went to have a look and joined in."

"But you didn’t?"

"I were finishing my can and I'd had a few
anyway. I was pissed off with t' whole evening."

"But you did go and look?" Hammond
insisted.

"In the end I did, just as Musworth hit this
bloke over the head with an iron bar."

"Then what happened?" Hammond prompted
again.

"I had a close look at this bloke and saw he
was dead. No pulse nor nothing. I told them they'd really done it
this time. Sansom was scared and said maybe they could drop him in
t' canal and everyone would think he'd cracked his head falling in
or summat."

"And they dragged him to the canal door?"
Hammond suggested.

"Sort of. Sansom and Barker ran off to
Sansom's uncle Olu. For owt I know they're there still. I had to
help Musworth drag the body and I had to force the doors open. I
thought it was a pretty crap idea, but I couldn't think of owt
better and anyway it wasn't me what done it."

"So you dumped him in the canal," Hammond
mused. "You didn't think he was a bit too smartly dressed for a
tramp?"

"It were dark," Koswinski said. "I couldn't
see much, Musworth were scared and t' other two were so scared
they'd run off. I wanted out of there in a hurry as well, though I
hadn't done nothing to be scared of."

"And when did the fire start?"

"I ain't exactly sure, because everything
happened real fast. There was a bit of a splash as this bloke hit
the water and I think I'd started closing the doors, when I heard
the bang or the boom or whatever you call it. It was more a feeling
than a noise. Anyway, flames spread out where this bloke had been
and all along the street side. I said we'd better jump. Me and
Musworth jumped out through the loading doors where we'd dumped the
body. I swam to the far side and climbed out. I don't know what
happened to Musworth."

"Too drunk to swim?" Goss suggested.

"Happen so," said Koswinski. "But he were a
good swimmer."

"And Sansom and Barker had gone before the
fire started?" Tommy asked.

"Aye," Koswinski agreed. "They'd be away five
minutes or more before t' fire."