Witchmoor Edge (8 page)

Chapter 5: Tuesday 14th August (pm)

Sheldon Shields was a bulky, balding man of
about forty-five. He shook hand with a firm, friendly manner and
sat down in the Client Interview Room opposite the two
detectives.

Outside, in the street, it was just about
lunchtime and the warm, sunny weather continued. Women from the
various offices were beginning to wander out in summer dresses and
Tommy Hammond was distracted by the view from the window. He
watched speculatively as a couple of particularly attractive young
women with skirts more mini than usual strolled into a sandwich
shop. With an effort he pulled his attention back to the job in
hand.

"I'm investigating the murder of Simon
Hunter," DI Hampshire began. "I take it you knew of the death."

"Sure," Shields said. "I guess everyone in
the place knows It's a small staff and anyone could see he wasn't
here. Yesterday everyone wondered why. Today they know."

"And how did the staff react to the
news?"

"He wasn't popular. I don't see folks
crying."

"But would anyone want to kill him?"
Hampshire asked.

"Most people, me included," Shields answered
with a wry smile. "He was often rude and sarcastic to the
receptionist. He got through a secretary every two months or so. He
led me on with some insider information he was raving about and
when I let greed get the better of me and I was sucked in over my
head, he bailed me out at the price of some my shares in the
business. With his shares, his wife's shares and those he got from
me he was making life difficult for Bernard." Shields shrugged
helplessly. "I guess a lot of people would like to have murdered
him. The question is, who did?"

"That," Hampshire said dryly, "is what I'm
trying to discover."

"Don't expect the help to be too
enthusiastic. We're all grateful to whoever it was."

With little to record, Tommy was letting his
attention wander again, and was watching three more office girls or
women turning into the sandwich shop, However, DI Hampshire's next
question drew him sharply back to the job in hand.

"According to Bernard Knowles, Hunter was
getting his insider information from an IT specialist in some
banking organisation. She was called Rosie something or other."

"Rosie O’Connor," Shields said. "She worked
for the Leeds office of the Frankfurt-Manhattan Merchant Bank."

"Was he having an affair with her?" This was
of course just hearsay, but Millicent was fishing.

"Who knows? He never said so, but I'd guess
he was, as long as she was useful to him anyway. He could be cruel,
a liar and a thief, but he could be charming when it suited
him."

"Bernard Knowles thought he had some other
hold over her." Millicent was fishing again.

"I don't know, but I'd agree with Bernard
that it looked that way," Shields nodded.

"Drugs?"

"Maybe. I just don't know." Shields said.

"What did Hunter offer you that appealed to
your greed?" Hampshire asked.

"He said that Frankfurt-Manhattan had agreed
to finance a defence contract to sell armoured cars to Pakistan
because the Government had agreed to underwrite the deal. He
thought we should buy into Alpha Systems before the news got out.
In the event it was the other way round. The Government refused to
underwrite the deal, Frankfurt-Manhattan pulled out and the
contract fell through. The share in Alpha Systems fell sharply. I
lost money and so did Gary Leverett, but not Hunter himself,
because he didn't buy any shares."

"And that left you short of funds?" Hampshire
asked.

"You bet. Then Hunter offered to help me out
by buying some of my shares in the business. That's when I knew I'd
been taken on purpose."

"Nice," Tommy murmured.

"Real nice," Shields agreed. "He made quite a
bunch over time from insider trading. Sure you slip up once in a
while, but he didn't buy shares himself this time."

"Where were you between midday and midnight
last Saturday?" Hampshire asked.

Shields thought about, then counting the time
off with his fingers, said, "I had a late breakfast or early lunch
going up to midday. I did one or two bits of writing - letters and
things - for an hour or an hour and a half. Then I washed the car
and did some gardening. I had a bath and changed and about six
thirty or so the two of us went out for the evening with Gary
Leverett and his wife. Before meeting up with Gary I'm not real
sure of the times. In the evening we went to the Alhambra in
Bradford and then had a meal. I guess it would be about
eleven-thirty when we got in."

"Can anyone vouch for this?" Hampshire
asked.

"Janine - that's Mrs Shields - was coming and
going and a neighbour, a Mr Stevenson talked to me while I was
washing the car mid afternoon, but I don't know how much of the
afternoon it all accounts for. I wasn't expecting to need an
alibi." Shield grinned boyishly, but Millicent made no comment.
Tommy Hammond thought the man sounded genuine enough, though he
seemed to have a sufficiently strong motive to be a suspect.

"We'll talk to Mr. Leverett and to Rosie
O’Connor as well," Hampshire asked. "What car do you drive, Mr
Shields?"

Shields looked puzzled. "BMW," he replied.
"Why?"

"Just checking, that's all." Hampshire said.
"Well, I think that's about all for the moment, Mr. Shields. As I
said, I'm just trying to get an overall picture at this stage. I
may need to talk to you again."

"Be my guest," Shields said, rising.

On the way back to the station at Witchmoor
Edge Millicent's mobile rang. She unhooked it from her skirt
waistband to answer.

"Hampshire," she said.

"Good day to you," rumbled the deep, pleasant
voice of Tobias N'Dibe. "I was wondering whether you could get away
from work in reasonable time today. Say about half past five or so.
Not later than six."

"By six I might. Why?"

"Tonight there is a Public Meeting of that
group I mentioned. We will be gathering at the Public Library in
Bradford. I thought we could meet at that restaurant four doors up
from the filling station in Manningham Lane and have an early meal
before proceeding to the meeting."

"You mean the filling station opposite the
entrance to Lister Park?"

"The same."

"Where shall I meet you and what time?"
Millicent asked.

"Say six fifteen at the restaurant?"

"Okay," the detective agreed.

Tommy Hammond looked quizzical, but didn't
say anything. Millicent didn't say anything either, and it wasn't
until afterwards that it occurred to her to wonder how N'Dibe had
got hold of her mobile number, which wasn't public knowledge.

* * *

DC Gary Goss had been making his own advances
to the overall picture as well, although his visit to the East
Witchmoor Youth Centre was almost a little less than
productive.

"We had a disco Saturday night," youth leader
Tim Cruikshank recalled. "There were between fifty and sixty
people. A lot of noise, some alcohol but no drugs that I know of.
Why do you ask?"

"Was Kevin Musworth here that you noticed?"
Goss asked.

"Let me see ... Musworth ... Yes I think
so."

"Was he with Wayne Sansom?"

"How would I know? It was nearly dark in the
centre. Wait a minute. Yes, he was with Sansom. A real yob called
Koswinski tried to get in. Nasty bugger. I banned him from the
youth club for fighting and giving drugs to someone a month or two
back. He tried to sneak in under cover of the dark, and when I
threw him out, Musworth, Sansom and a kid called Barker - I don't
know his first name. They all left with him."

"What time was this?" Goss wanted to
know.

"Not sure. Eight thirty, nine oclock."

"You can't be more exact?"

Tim Cruikshank was not exactly unhelpful in
his attitude, though Goss hadn't seen or heard any reports of the
drugs incident, but he was evidently impatient to get on.

"No," he said abruptly. "I was busy."

"I don't suppose you know where they
went."

"I was inside and they were outside. As far
as Koswinski is concerned, that's the way I like it."

"Well, thank you Mr Cruikshank. Unless
someone saw them after they left here I'm afraid it looks like a
dead end."

"You could try Gloria. She was at the door
selling tickets. She may have seen which way they went. It would
still have been light."

Cruikshank went to the office door and called
his assistant, a wide-eyed, bleached haired woman of
thirty-something.

"You remember I threw out Koswinski last
Saturday and he left with three others?"

"Yeah."

"I don't suppose you happened to see where
they went."

"No. I didn't see them go," she said. Then,
just as Goss had that sinking feeling, she added as an
afterthought, "But I remember Koshwinski did say summat about the
Apocalypse having a better disco anyway. He gives me the creeps,
Koswinski does. They say he was behind that gang rape of the girl
in Shipley and I wouldn't be surprised."

"I told you he was a nasty bugger,"
Cruikshank remarked.

"We know all about Koswinski, but we can't
seem to get any evidence against him, "DC Goss admitted. "Well,
that's a useful lead. I'll try the Apocalypse next."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you want
Koswinski?" Cruikshank asked.

"I don't think we're exactly looking for
Koswinski, but Musworth was pulled out of the canal drowned on
Sunday morning and Sansom is missing. There was a body in that fire
and we have to investigate the possibility that it was either
Sansom or this other youth, Barker."

"Jody Barker?" Gloria asked.

"Probably," Goss said, "Do you know where he
lived?"

"Naw," Gloria said shaking her head.

"Or his age?"

"Naw. He's left school though. About
seventeen I'd guess."

"Well, I've done better than I thought I
would," DC Goss said. "Thanks for your help."

At the Apocalypse there was only a manager
around at that time of day and he was a little wary of the
detective. The Apocalypse was a full blown nightclub with a no
under 18s policy and a reasonable reputation for co-operating with
the police and for keeping drugs under control. Inside they seemed
to have things fairly well under control, but there sometimes
fights outside.

The manager was a dapper little man with a
moustache called Norris. He was in his late thirties and a
reasonable sort of bloke. Goss was shown into the office and sat in
a comfortable chair, while Norris settled himself behind the
desk.

"Now, what can I do for you?" he asked the
detective.

"I'm trying to trace the movements of four
youths who may have tried to get in here last Saturday evening,"
Goss explained. Norris relaxed a little to discover his part was at
most indirect.

"I always ask the bouncers for a full report
of any incident," he said. "It's just a case of fireproofing my ass
if anything goes wrong."

"Last Saturday the four set out to come here.
They left the East Witchmoor Youth Centre about nine and I wondered
if they'd turned up here."

"Photos?"

DC Goss pulled out a print of the school
photo of Sansom and the scene of crime shot of Musworth. "That's
two of them, he said. "One is tentatively identified as Jody
Barker, but I don't have a photograph yet."

"They look too young," Norris said shaking
his head. "I don't think they'd get past the bouncer at the
door."

The fourth was Koswinski.

Norris brightened. "Oh well," he said. "I can
tell you about him. I banned him three weeks ago after a fighting
incident. The bloke at the door stopped him coming in on Saturday.
Apart from the ban he was pretty well loaded."

"Drunk?"

"Yeah. He'd had too much. He's a belligerent
little bugger when he's sober, but drunk ..." Norris shrugged
meaningfully.

"What time was this?" DC Goss asked. "We're
trying to piece together the movements of the four of them on
Saturday evening."

"Well I only know for certain about
Koswinski. You'd have to speak to Brash, the bouncer, but if they
left the Youth Centre together they may well have still been
together."

DC Goss agreed. "Do you have a time for
this?" he asked.

"I'll check it in the incident book," he
said, and pulled a hardback book from his desk drawer. "Let's see."
He flipped through the pages and then ran a finger down the
entries.

"Here we are. About ten thirty," he said
triumphantly.

It was a bit later than Goss had expected but
he was pleased with progress. He thought it was time to go back to
the station, have a bite to eat and type up the report, so he
thanked Norris and left.

Gary Goss was feeling decidedly hungry by the
time he reached the canteen and found himself behind DI Hampshire
and Tommy Hammond, newly arrived back from Bradford.

"There's just salad left," a plump, jolly
assistant behind the counter was saying. "I've cheese, tuna and one
egg salad left."

"A salad is fine this weather," Millicent
said. "I'll have the egg. Have you got a roll?"

"I'll have the cheese salad with two rolls,"
Tommy decided.

At that moment Lucy Turner arrived back and
stood in the line.

"And I'll have a tuna salad and three rolls,"
Gary Goss added. "I'm hungry"

"Am I right in thinking there's nothing left
but salad," Lucy remarked.

"'Fraid so," the assistant agreed.

"You can have cheese salad, tuna salad or
cheese and tuna salad," Tommy joked.

"Wow, that's a difficult choice," Lucy said.
"But I'll be really awkward and have a tuna and cheese salad
instead of cheese and tuna one."