R Wingfield - A Killing Frost

‘What is it?’ asked Frost.

‘I know what you must think of me, but I’m still a father. Any news of Debbie?’

‘We’ve got teams out searching now, but nothing so far. As soon as there’s any news, you’ll be informed.’

Clark’s head sank. ‘Thank you,’ he mumbled, knuckling tears from his eyes. ‘Thank you so much.’

Wells closed the cell door and locked it again, then raised an eyebrow at Frost.

‘Crocodile tears,’ Frost told him. ‘Clark is my number-one, prime bleeding suspect. When we find his daughter she’ll be dead, and that bastard will have killed her.’

He looked in on the Incident Room, where Harry Edwards was now checking and priming out the contents of the confiscated computers.

‘Lots of duplicates, Inspector,’ he said. ‘They obviously swapped the goodies around.’

Frost had a sudden thought. He unpinned a photograph from the pinboard and gave it to him. ‘If she’s in any of the downloads, let me know.’

Edwards studied the photo and laid it on the desk. ‘Lovely little kid. Who is it?’

‘Clark’s missing daughter, Debbie.’

The man looked at the photo again. ‘But she’s only about six or seven. I thought the missing girl was in her early teens?’

‘It’s the only photo we have of her,’ said Frost. ‘Her doting father had a thing about her being photographed in case dirty bastards other than himself drooled over her. There might be early photos of her on the computer.’

‘I’ll see what I can find.’ Edwards pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes. ‘Some of these are the nastiest I’ve seen, and I’ve seen some bloody filth in my time. There’s a couple with kids and dogs.’

‘Rather you than me,’ said Frost.

Morgan was waiting for him when he got back to his office.

‘We’ve turned Alman’s place over, Guv. Nothing else, but a few more addresses we can check.’

‘We’ve got enough on our hands with the bodies we picked up today,’ said Frost. ‘The rest will have to wait.’

‘One of them is a doctor,’ said Morgan.

‘Show me!’ Frost took the list and whistled softly. ‘Dr Cauldwell! Mrs Clark’s GP. The one Clark invited me to contact to confirm his wife imagined things about him lusting after his daughter. Hardly an unbiased confirmation, then. We’ll check that sod out first.’ He flopped into his chair and fished out his cigarettes. ‘Anything else?’

‘You’d better see this, Guv,’ said Morgan. ‘They were under our noses and we nearly missed them.’

Frost took the sheet of bright-green A4 paper. It was the weekly announcement of Alman’s Bible classes. He skimmed through it and handed it back. ‘So?’

‘Look at Sundays, Guv,’ insisted Morgan.

Frost took back the sheet and looked again. He went cold. His mouth dropped open and the unlighted cigarette fell to the floor. ‘Shit, shit and double shit.’ He read it again in disbelief. Sundays, 2.30 – 3.30. Children’s Bible Class. ‘Children! The bastard has kids in there.’ He pushed Morgan out of the way and marched down to the holding area, yelling for Bill Wells to unlock Alman’s cell.

‘We never touched the children,’ blurted Alman, white-faced. ‘On my word of honour, we never laid a finger on those kids.’

‘Your bleeding word of honour isn’t worth shit,’ roared Frost.

‘Look, Inspector,’ pleaded Alman in a ‘let’s be reasonable’ voice, ‘I’m a lay preacher. My Sunday School is all above board. Yes, I liked being with children. It gave me pleasure, but that is as far as it went. I might have wanted to do things, but I didn’t.’ He spread his hands. ‘Don’t you see? If I tried anything and they reported it, I’d be finished. I wouldn’t dare risk that.’

‘You’d better be telling me the truth,’ snarled Frost, ‘otherwise I’ll personally come in here, ruin my career and castrate you with my bare bleeding teeth.’ He stepped back and signalled for Wells to slam shut the door and lock it.

‘Do you think he’s been interfering with those kids?’ asked Wells.

‘My gut reaction is that he likes dribbling over photos, but hasn’t got the guts to do anything else. But we can’t take any chances. I want the names and addresses of all those kids, then I want a team to call on the parents.’

‘Where are we going to get this team from, Jack? I’ve got most of the lads out searching for Debbie Clark and her boyfriend.’

‘Scrape the bottom of the barrel… use Taffy – and that young WPC, the new girl – what’s her name, by the way?’

‘Kate Holby. And you can’t have her. Skinner’s got her correlating the past five years’ crime statistics.’

‘That’s a bleeding waste of time, and soul destroying.’

‘I know. That’s why Skinner gave it to her, Jack. He seems to have it in for her.’

‘Why?’

Wells shrugged. ‘I don’t know. All I know is he’s trying to get her to jack the job in, so he’s giving her all the shitty jobs he can find. He had her on a cot death yesterday, and you know how everyone fights shy of them.’

Frost nodded grimly. He’d had his share, so he knew only too well. Parents crying, the mother in hysterics clutching the dead baby, defying any one to try and take it from her.

‘He sent her on her own? We always send two officers.’

‘Skinner said he didn’t give a monkey’s what we always did – she went on her own. As you know, we have to treat all cot deaths as suspicious, so Kate had to get the baby from the mother, and strip it so she could examine it for signs of injury or abuse. Nineteen bleeding years old. She was shaken rigid when she came back. Skinner’s a real right bastard.’

‘What’s he got against her?’

‘I don’t know, Jack. There’s something, but she won’t say. Anyway, you can’t have her.’

‘Yes I bleeding can. She can stuff Skinner’s crime statistics. I want her and Taffy to interview the parents. They mustn’t mention the word “paedophile” or suggest the kids might have been sexually abused. They can tell the parents that one or two Bible Class pupils think they had stuff stolen, so have their kids lost anything? If the parents have any suspicions at all, I reckon they’re bound to tell a cop calling on them.’

Frost looked up as Taffy Morgan and Kate Holby returned to his office.

‘Covered most of the parents, Guv,’ reported Morgan. ‘None of them gave any hint. A couple reckoned their kids had lost money and now think it could have been pinched, but that’s all.’

Frost grunted his approval. This was what he had hoped for.

‘I’d better get back to DCI Skinner’s work,’ said Kate.

‘Hold it, love,’ said Frost. ‘I’ve got something better you can do. You were on the last Fortress Building Society stake-out, weren’t you?’

She nodded.

‘Then you’re on another one tonight. It’ll be an all-night job, so go home, get a bit of kip and report back at eleven o’clock for some overtime.’

‘But DCI Skinner said – ’

‘I’m overriding him. He’ll take it out-on me, love, not you, so don’t worry Now off you go.’

She smiled a loin-tingling smile. ‘Thank you.’

He watched her go. ‘Cor,’ he purred. ‘If I was thirty years younger, and a dirty bastard like Taffy.’

But Wells was looking puzzled. ‘What’s this about a stake-out? I’ve got no authorisation for overtime.’

‘Skinner’s left me in charge, so I’m giving you the authorisation,’ replied Frost. ‘The same team as before.’

‘But the blackmailer’s already taken the five hundred quid for today.’

‘So he’ll come just after midnight. Trust me, Bill, I’ve got one of my feelings.’

‘You’ll be in the shit if you authorise all that overtime and he doesn’t turn up, Jack.’