R. Wingfield - Winter Frost

Morgan radioed through. 'Still on their tail, guv. They're going at a fair old lick. Any chance we could head them off from the other direction before they reach the turn-off?'

I'll check.' He called Control, but Morgan was out of luck. The only available vehicle was over the other side of Denton and would never get there in time. He was pocketing his radio when a black Honda Accord braked to a halt outside the shop and a short, tubby man in a sheepskin driving coat clambered out. 'The name's Conway… it's my shop,' he told Collier, then surveyed the wreckage of the window with mounting indignation. 'Bloody hell! Look at it! The third time in four months. I've only just had that window put in.'

'My heart bleeds for you,' grunted Frost, introducing himself. 'You're insured, aren't you?'

'Top rate premiums and I have to pay the first Ј5,000 of any claim, but after that I'm insured, yes.'

'Tough,' said Frost. He jerked a thumb at the alarm. 'Can you turn that flaming thing off?' Conway scowled. 'I can turn it off if it offends your ears, Inspector, but tell me something, would you? Where was your bloody lot when it went off?'

'Our bloody lot was lying in the gutter with his skull smashed in,' snapped Frost. 'He was welted with a baseball bat.'

The man's eyes opened wide in concern. 'My God! I didn't know. Is he all right?'

Frost shrugged. 'He's unconscious. We're waiting to hear from the hospital.'

Conway covered his face with a hand and shook his head. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't know.'

'We'll want an inventory of what's been taken.'

'That's easy,' said Conway, bitterly. 'It's everything that was in the window.'

'As soon as you can,' said Frost, moving away as his radio paged him. Morgan again.

'We've lost them, guv.'

Frost stared at the radio open-mouthed. 'You've what?'

'Not our fault, guv. They swerved in front of an articulated lorry. The lorry driver slammed on his brakes, skidded and jack-knifed. We couldn't get past.'

Frost sighed. "There's not many places they could have gone. Keep looking!'

The clock on the interview room wall clunked its way round to 4.12. The radiator still wasn't working properly in spite of Frost's kicks and the room was cold. Frost thumbed through the list of stolen items then raised his eyes to Conway. 'Nearly a quarter of a million. What were you stocking — the Crown Jewels?'

'It was all good stuff: gold, silver, jewellery, Rolex watches. It soon adds up.'

'Why wasn't it in the safe?'

'Good question. The flaming safe's jammed. We can't open it. The locksmith's coming tomorrow to fix it — too flaming busy to come today. I had to get special dispensation from the insurance company to leave it in the window overnight.' 'That was good of them.'

'Yes… very generous,' replied Conway with heavy sarcasm. 'All they charged was an extra premium of Ј500. Ј500 for twenty-four flaming hours.'

Frost glanced at the list of stolen items again. 'I bet they wish they'd turned you down, now.' He took out a cigarette. 'Was tonight the first time the stuff was left in the window?'

'Yes. These crooks were either bloody observant or bloody lucky — tomorrow night the stuff would all have been nicely locked away in the safe.'

Frost thumbed his lighter. 'At least you were insured.'

'Oh yes, and if I live long enough, and they can't find anything in the small print so they can wriggle out of paying, I'll get the wholesale price less Ј5,000 excess and treble the premium for next time.' He blew his nose noisily. 'But here am I ranting on and forgetting about that poor devil in hospital. Any news?'

'Still unconscious. It doesn't look too good.' The jeweller's face creased. 'I'm so terribly sorry. I owe him. If there's anything I can do…'

'Thanks,' said Frost, rubbing his hands together to restore the circulation. 'And thanks for coming. We'll keep you informed.'

Conway zipped up his briefcase and pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

'Half a mo!' said Frost. As Conway sat down again, Frost beckoned Collier over. 'Nip out and see if there's any news from the hospital, would you, son?' He waited until the constable had left before leaning across the table to Conway and lowering his voice. 'Wanted him out of the way for a minute,' he said, tapping his nose conspiratorially. He pulled a brown paper bag from his pocket and shook the contents into his hand. A necklace which sparkled in the overhead light. 'I bought this from a bloke in a pub today, paid fifty quid for it. He swore blind it was worth Ј400. Was I caught?'

Conway stripped off his gloves and examined the necklace. A sad shake of his head as he handed it back. 'You got exactly what you paid for, Inspector. It's worth Ј50 top whack.'

With a rueful grin Frost tucked the necklace back in his pocket. 'The lousy bastard!' he said. Then he clicked his fingers as if he had suddenly remembered something. 'I'm a silly sod. This isn't the necklace I bought in the pub. This is the one I took from your shop window tonight. It had this Ј4,500 price ticket on it.' He swung the price ticket backwards and forwards.

Conway went white. I don't understand…'

Frost grinned back at him. 'Don't you, Mr Conway? Your bank manager does.'

'My bank manager?'

A cheerful nod from Frost. 'I phoned him a few minutes ago. It might have been my imagination, but he didn't sound too pleased at being woken up from a sound sleep. Anyway, it seems you're overdrawn like mad, the bank want to repossess your house and your shop, and there's quite a few of your cheques bouncing like the Dambusters' bomb. He said you had a profitable little business there until you let your son start running it.'

Conway stared, mouth agape, then, with an effort, pulled himself together. 'This is all beyond me, Inspector. I'm going-'

'Sit down!' barked Frost.

Conway's shoulders slumped. He dropped down in the chair.

A tap at the door and a grim-faced Collier returned.

He whispered something to Frost whose lips tightened. 'Thank you, Constable.' He stared at Conway. 'A fractured skull, extensive brain damage. They rate his chances as lower than fifty/fifty, but even if he does pull through, they doubt if he will ever be able to lead a normal life.' He bent forward, his face nearly touching Conway's. 'You bastard!' He spat out the words.

Conway jerked back as if he had been hit. 'How dare you!' he spluttered.

'An insurance fiddle. I can smell them a mile off. A fake raid, then claim on the insurance. And thanks to your scam a bloody good police officer who was trying to protect your property has been ruined for life.'

Conway flushed. 'This is preposterous. You're making wild accusations without a shred of proof. I am not saying another word unless my solicitor is present.'

'Good,' said Frost, opening his folder. 'You can show him this when he gets here.' He pulled out a printed form and handed it over. 'It's a search warrant… I took the liberty of getting one ready in advance. We're going to search your house.'

'My house?' croaked Conway, the search warrant shaking as he tried to hold it steady.

Frost nodded. 'Who knows, we might find a lot of the good stuff hidden away somewhere that you forgot to stick in your shop window.'

The jeweller's face crumpled. He stared down at the scratched and scarred table top. 'You've got to believe me, Inspector. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt.'

Frost signalled for Collier to start up the cassette recorder, then gave Conway a warm, encouraging smile. 'Tell us all about it,' he said.

Frost watched Wells lock the cell door on Conway. 'His son and two mates carried out the fake raid.

We've sent a couple of cars to pick them up, so get the other two cells swilled out.'

'Conway's son was behind it all, then?' asked Wells.