R. Wingfield - Hard Frost

"My sincere condolences," said Frost, remembering that this was the old cow who used to provide Sidney with watertight alibis all those years ago.

Snell knuckled his eyes. "On the generous assumption that you are being sincere, I thank you." He sighed. "It's hard coming to terms with it."

"Sudden, was it?" asked Frost.

Snell shook his head. "She'd been in hospital for nearly two months. Three weeks ago they phoned me to say she was dying. I came straight away. She died half an hour before I got there." He covered his face with his hands. "We never said goodbye."

"Three weeks ago? And you've been in Denton ever since?"

He nodded. "Don't worry. I'm not staying. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. The Council are tearing this entire street down."

"That's a bit drastic, just to make you move on," said Frost.

Snell ignored him. "Mother was the stumbling block. She wouldn't leave. As soon as they heard she was dead she wasn't even buried the Council slapped a demolition order on the place. I'm disposing of her effects, not that she had much, and I go back to Newcastle tomorrow." He nodded towards the suitcases and carrier bags. "So you needn't concern yourself with what I might do."

"It's not a question of what you might do," said Cassidy, deciding it was about time to make his presence felt. "It's a question of what you've already done."

Snell stared at Cassidy, his eyes blinking in puzzlement. "Perhaps you'd kindly explain yourself."

"The day after you returned to Denton, we had complaints of a man exposing himself to mothers and children. Isn't that what you used to do?"

"Coincidence."

"Coincidence has a long arm, but a very short dick," chipped in Frost. "Two of the mothers said it was the smallest they had ever seen, which immediately made us think of you."

Snell flushed brick red. "Now you are being insulting."

"And then," continued Cassidy, raising his voice to let Frost know he was doing the questioning, 'we had instances of children being stabbed in the arms and buttocks, just as you did when you pretended to be a doctor."

Snell slowly stood up, trembling with outrage. "I committed my crime ten years ago. I was caught and I was punished. I've learnt my lesson." He turned to

Frost. "They don't like child molesters in prison."

"Not too keen on them myself," said Frost.

"I got beaten up buckets of filth thrown over me. I'm not going to risk that again."

"Where were you this morning around half-past eight?" asked Cassidy.

"In here, sorting out mother's things."

"And where were you earlier tonight from about ten o'clock onwards?"

"In here. I never went out."

"Got a girlfriend, have you?" asked Frost.

"No."

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"So if you're not sticking pins in little kids, hearing them cry, watching the blood spurt out of chubby little arms and bottoms, what do you do for kicks?"

With a disdainful smile, Snell opened the sideboard drawer and took out a bible which he waved in the inspector's face. "Nothing you would understand, Mr. Frost, but I get my kicks, as you call them, from the Good Book. I'm a born again Christian."

"It wasn't your bible you were waggling at those women this morning," said Frost. "It was your little winkle."

"How many times do I have to tell you I never went out this morning… I'll swear to it on the bible if you like."

"I bet you would, you bastard!" snarled Cassidy.

Snell glowered. "I don't have to put up with this harassment. You haven't got anyone for these crimes, so you're trying to fit me up, even though I've gone straight for the past ten years."

Cassidy pulled two photographs from his inside pocket. The first was of the missing boy. He handed it to Snell. "Where did you pick him up?"

As Snell studied it, Frost watched him closely, noting an expression of puzzlement followed by relief. If you're acting, you're bloody good, he thought.

"I've never seen him before."

"Then what about him?" Snell took the photograph of the dead boy, but his eyes were on Frost who had got up from the chair and was now mooching about the room, pulling open drawers, rummaging inside. "Do you have a search warrant? "he called.

Frost flashed a beaming smile. "Of course not, Sidney. This is just a courtesy call."

"The photograph," snapped Cassidy, tapping it with his finger.

Snell gave it hardly a glance before returning it. "Never seen him before."

"He was chloroformed," said Cassidy.

"So?"

"There was chloroform in the medical bag you used to carry around with you."

"Was there? If there was, I never used it and that was ten years ago. I've taken my punishment and I've turned to the Lord. If he can forgive me, why can't you?"

"Perhaps the Lord didn't know you had these," called Frost from the sideboard. He was holding up a coloured photograph he had found in the drawer. Two young children, aged about five, hand in hand and crying. They were both naked. He thrust it at Snell's face. "Given it up, have you, Sidney?"

Looking disgusted at the suggestion, Snell snatched the photograph from Frost. "A perfectly innocent snapshot of two sweet young children. What sort of mind have you got to see something dirty in that?"

"The sort of mind," replied Frost, 'that looks at a born again Christian and sees a dirty lying bastard!"

Snell moved forward indignantly. "I don't have to put up with this." He spat out the words. "This is sheer harassment."

"Shut up!" barked Frost, poking Snell in the chest.

"And sit down!" Snell flopped in the chair. "Now listen and listen carefully. You are a hypocritical bastard, trying to hide behind the bible. But you've been up to your old tricks again, haven't you, Sidney?"

"No, I '

"Yes, you bloody have! Exposing yourself, stabbing little kiddies. Sadly for us, Sidney, this is your lucky day. At the moment we are so flaming busy we haven't got time to put trash like you away. When are you going back to Newcastle?"

"Tomorrow."

"Then make it first bloody thing in the morning, because if one more kid is molested, one more mother sees a man with a microscopic dick exposing himself, I am going to throw the bloody book at you, whether you did it or not. Do I make myself clear?"

"Now hold on a minute!" said Cassidy, rising angrily from his chair.

"Shut up!" Frost waved him to silence. "Well, Sidney?"

"I swear on the bible that I have committed no crimes since I've been in Denton, but as you wrongly and unjustly suspect me, I shall return to Newcastle first thing tomorrow. I hope that satisfies you."

A curt nod from Frost. "OK. We'll show ourselves out."

Cassidy hurled himself into the driving seat and punched the dashboard in rage and frustration. Why did Frost always interfere at the critical time? "I was questioning him '

"He had nothing to do with the boys," said Frost. "They were far too old for him. Anyone over six is old and wrinkly to Sidney."

"How can you be so damn sure?"

"I was watching his face when you showed him the photographs. He looked so relieved that you were veering away from the stabbings. He did the stabbings all right, but he knows nothing about the two boys."

"So why don't we arrest him?"

"We've got no proof."

"We can find proof."

"We haven't got the time, son. We're struggling with a missing boy, two murders and an alleged robbery with violence."

"We can get him for exposing himself," insisted Cassidy. "The woman should identify him."

"It's too bloody petty to worry about."

"Was the hit and run killing of my daughter too bloody petty to worry about?"

Frost ignored this. "Tomorrow morning he'll be gone and he won't be our problem any more."

"And the minute he gets back he'll be up to his filthy larks again."