Peter Helton - Falling More Slowly

‘Daws! Around twenty-eight years of age?’

‘About that, yes.’

‘Doctor, you did the right thing when you called me. I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, if he shows his face for some more treatment you must call. Not just me, dial 999 and try and keep him there for as long as you can. I’ve gotta go now, thanks, doctor.’

For a few seconds he remained standing at his desk, staring at the image on the screen, then grabbed his jacket and keys. Old boy or Daws, what did it matter? He wasn’t precious about his hunches. ‘Dearlove, get this image printed out and distributed and put it up on the board in the incident room. I want that man found.’

‘Okay. Where will you be, sir?’

‘I’m going to check something out. Tell Austin to get in touch with me when you see him.’ He walked down the corridor, then fell into a trot. Daws, Timothy Daws. They had never followed that up.

As he unlocked his car in his new reserved parking space he was hailed from the far end of the car park.

‘DI McLusky, sir?’

He recognized the grey-haired officer from Traffic. ‘What can I do for you, sergeant?’

‘Not sure I should show my face here. I owe you an apology for leaving the mud sample in your lobby without telling anyone but I was in a hurry as usual. And I want to thank you for delivering the perpetrator as well. That was well beyond the call of duty, sir.’

‘No problem, though I’ve had mud-jokes up to here.’ He indicated a line below his chin. ‘But while you’re here, there’s something that’s been bugging me. Was it you who mentioned the kite festival to me?’

‘Might have done. I think we were talking about the gridlock situation we had last year. The traffic from the kite festival was definitely a contributing factor.’

‘Remind me what else went on.’

‘A tourist bus broke down …’

‘One of those Citytours things?’

‘I don’t remember what company. There was also a running fight between drunks and an abnormally wide load came in off the motorway from Wales.’

‘What kind of abnormal load?’

‘A boat, sir. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Big thing, they delivered it to the docks here. I didn’t see it myself.’

‘Why would a boat come by road rather than sea?’

‘Not seaworthy?’

The Eleni had come overland from Cardiff, he was pretty sure that’s what the owner had said. ‘Bloody hell. Didn’t you also say emergency services couldn’t get through? Thanks, sergeant, I think we might be quits.’

Sitting in his car he dialled Austin’s mobile. It was answered instantly. ‘Jane, it’s Liam. I’m in the car park about to pay Daws a visit.’

‘You want me to come down?’

‘No. I want you to check something urgently. Last year, I’m not sure of the date, you had virtual gridlock here one day.’

‘Nothing virtual about it — ’

‘I want you to check the logs for all emergency calls for that day. Find any that had a long delay in being responded to. I think that’s where our man’s grievance might originate. Get back to me as soon as. I’m following up on Daws. Apparently he presented with a burnt paw at A amp;E.’

Timothy bloody Daws. Damn. Why hadn’t he followed that up ages ago? Because he didn’t fit the bill, that’s why. A cheat and petty criminal of his age certainly had the potential to graduate to the big stuff, especially if he was sent to prison for any length of time, but a sustained campaign of terrorizing citizens with bombs surely was too long a jump?

Yet the boy he had living at his house had definitely been nervous about something, he thought, as he parked the Mazda out of sight of Daws’ front door. He shouldn’t be doing this by himself, really needed someone to cover the back of the house. Better check the back of the house first.

As soon as he rounded the corner McLusky began to feel uncomfortable, though he couldn’t explain why. He hesitated at the entrance to the alley that ran along the rear of the fenced-off back gardens. Why should he suddenly feel spooked in the middle of the afternoon? Mentally shaking himself free of the strange feeling he nevertheless advanced cautiously to the locked back door of Daws’ desolate little garden. He pulled himself up, peered across and dropped back instantly. Someone was in the kitchen, just behind the window, and it didn’t look like the young kid. He walked back to the glass-strewn entrance of the alley. What was the rush? Better call for back-up.

As he reached inside his jacket for his phone he was grabbed by two men and slammed against the fence, face first. ‘Police, don’t move, don’t speak!’ Suddenly the place was busy. In the corner of his eye he saw uniformed officers in body armour troop past up the alley. Seconds later he heard the splintering of wood and the familiar shouts. ‘Police! Show yourselves! Police, come out, keep your hands where we can see them!’

The two officers released their grip and swivelled McLusky around. Both were in their twenties, had shaved heads and weighed fifteen stone plus. ‘Who are you, what are you doing here?’

‘Detective Inspector McLusky.’ He showed his ID.

‘Ah. Sorry, sir. Bad timing. Drug squad raid. What were you doing here?’

‘Is it Daws you’re hoping to find in there?’

‘That’s who we should be finding there. And quite possibly a cannabis factory. Helicopter chased some kids around here a few days back, using infrared. Apart from the kids the infra showed up a huge heat signature for the roof of this house. Now unless he’s converted his entire loft into a sauna that usually means it’s full of heat lamps for growing pot.’ A message over the radio soon confirmed it. ‘Two in custody. Tropical gardens upstairs, wall to wall cannabis plants.’

McLusky nodded grimly. No wonder the kid had been nervous. ‘Ask him if one of his prisoners answers to the name of Daws and if he has a bandaged hand.’

The answer came back instantly. ‘Affirmative.’

‘Gentlemen, I need to ask Daws a few questions and I need to ask them quickly.’

‘Whatever he tells you he remains our prisoner.’

‘First come first served, naturally.’

Daws was still in the kitchen cuffed by his left hand to a huge officer. Innis Cole, his young apprentice, sat bewildered and close to tears on a kitchen chair. The place was busy with officers. The front door had been knocked at the same time as the officers had entered the garden. McLusky showed his ID to Daws who tried to look bored, though fear had widened his eyes. ‘Timothy Daws, I presume. That’s entirely the wrong type of gardening you’ve been doing up there.’

Daws didn’t meet his eyes but looked out through the window at the shed which was being searched. ‘Just a few plants for private consumption.’

‘I doubt the judge will see it like that. Even what’s in that shed will be enough for a custodial sentence. But then I’m not really interested in your shed or your attic. Or your driving offences or your benefit fraud for that matter, though it all makes a tidy bundle for the CPS. I’m interested in this.’ McLusky grabbed the prisoner’s free arm and lifted his bandaged hand chest high. ‘Where did you hurt yourself?’

Daws tried unsuccessfully to pull from the grasp. ‘Burnt myself on the car engine.’

‘I thought it was a barbecue. Try again, Mr Daws.’ He turned to the officer in charge. ‘Has he been arrested yet?’

‘For drugs offences, intent to supply etc.’

‘Marvellous.’ He turned back to Daws. ‘You got that injury when something unexpectedly blew up in or near your hand. I think you’re involved with the spate of bombings in the city. I think we can safely add murder to the list.’