Mark Pearson - The Killing Season

‘Police! Open up!’

‘It’s locked — give me a minute,’ I called out and turned off the shower. But it seemed that the North Norfolk Constabulary had little patience. I heard a crunch, footsteps and then a familiar voice shouting out.

‘Delaney, get out here.’ It was Superintendent Susan Dean.

‘You want to give me a minute, Susan?’

‘No, I don’t. Get your arse out here now!’

I shrugged. I of all people knew the authority of the law. I opened the door of the shower cubicle and walked out.

‘Do you want to pass me that towel, please?’ I asked.

She looked at me for a second, shocked, a flush creeping across her face. Then she turned around. ‘Get that clown dressed and down the nick and if he gives you any trouble. . taser him!’ she said to a couple of uniformed male plods and stomped out the door. I picked up the towel and headed to the bedroom. ‘Give me five minutes,’ I said.

‘I’ll give you two minutes,’ said a broad-shouldered constable in his twenties.

‘Or what?’

He didn’t seem to have a response to that so I left him to consider his options while I got dressed.

Sheringham police station was built on the site of the new Tesco supermarket.

Tesco had been at war with many of the good people of Sheringham for over fourteen years before they finally got the local council to give them permission to build in the town. Part of the deal was that they had to build a new fire station, community centre and police station. Maybe they had placed the cop shop in their car park because they feared some kind of vandalism reprisals. But in fact the supermarket was pretty well used.

As police stations go it certainly wasn’t a Paddington Green. It wasn’t a White City. Just a small local police station for local people. It did have a couple of holding cells, though, and I was being marched straight into one. Watched by Susan Dean.

‘Why don’t you just tell us where you were last night at nine o’clock, Delaney?’

‘Like I said, superintendent, I am perfectly happy to make a statement. After I have discussed the matter, as I am entitled under law, with my legal representative.’

‘Amy Leigh is on her way, Delaney. Why don’t you just stop pissing me off? It won’t turn out well for you.’

‘Why don’t you let me have a word with my client, superintendent?’ asked Amy Leigh from the doorway. ‘I am sure everything can be cleared up.’

Susan Dean snorted and clacked away on her heels as the uniforms showed Amy into the holding cell and shut the door on us.

‘What’s going on, Jack?’

I shrugged.

‘Bill Collier was found by his colleague this morning. He had been tied up, doused with petrol and told by four masked men who had captured him that they would be back later to set fire to him. They also stole his car.’

I shrugged again. ‘Why on Earth should the police think that has anything to do with me?’

‘I don’t know, Jack. Maybe something to do with you kicking a ladder from under his feet and knocking his mate unconscious.’

‘He wasn’t unconscious. He was a little dazed, I’ll grant you that.’

‘And the fact that one of the assailants had an Irish accent.’

I pointed a finger at her. ‘That’s racist.’

Amy shook her head and sighed. ‘You got an alibi?’

‘Do I need one?’

‘Don’t know. Hard to tell what their investigation will throw up. But if you do have one, it might just get you out of here.’

‘You can’t say you are unhappy about what happened to Collier. He threatened to kill Helen Middleton’s dog.’

Amy held a hand up. ‘Just stop there, Jack. I know I told you to frighten him. But I was talking in a metaphorical way.’

‘People like Bill Collier don’t understand metaphors unless they are hit over the head with them.’

‘ Do you have an alibi ?’ She successfully fought the urge for an exasperated smile.

I didn’t fight my urge to do likewise. The Cheshire cat had nothing on me.

Ten minutes later and the superintendent was back and not looking any more happy. Behind her was Sergeant Coker, looking a little uncomfortable.

I smiled at Susan Dean and held my hands out. ‘Does this mean I am free to go?’

‘If you don’t watch it, Delaney, I will have you charged with indecent exposure!’

‘And in possession of a dangerous weapon?’

Amy made a noise through her nose as she stifled a chuckle and the sergeant smiled a little as Susan Dean coloured again. She glared at her colleague.

‘And you can shut it as well, sergeant. You want to be careful of the people you decide to play pool with.’

She strutted away again as the sergeant handed me my mobile phone, wallet and keys.

I opened the wallet and took out a ten-pound note. ‘That’s what I owe from the game last night.’

Sergeant Coker trousered the note and gave me a thoughtful look.

‘Quite a coincidence that you turned up in my local last night about the time Bill Collier was being done over.’

‘I don’t shed any tears over Collier. Do you, George?’

The big man gave me a thoughtful look once more. ‘The super has got her eye on you, Jack. You’ve put her nose well out of joint. I’d step careful if I were you.’

I grinned back at him. ‘Sure, Michael Flatley learned all he knows from me.’

‘Maybe, but Superintendent Dean will have you dancing to an altogether different tune if you give her a chance. Keep your balls out of her hand is my advice.’

Outside the air was brisk but the sky was still clear. Amy Leigh walked beside me as I looked at my phone. I had missed a few calls from Henry at the golf club and one from Kate.

‘Why were you winding Superintendent Dean up, Jack? You could have just told her you were with her sergeant last night. Seems like you were rubbing her nose in it, in more ways than one.’

‘It’s pretty simple. I don’t like the woman, Amy. She did nothing to help the old lady and told me to back off.’

‘And?’

‘And I don’t do backing-off.’

Amy shook her head in a fair impersonation of Susan Dean. ‘Do you work on your routine on a daily basis?’

My phone trilled. I looked at the incoming number and answered it. ‘Jack Delaney. OK, Henry, give me a few and I’ll be there.’

I closed the phone.

‘Developments?’ asked Amy.

‘Someone broke into the golf club last night. Rifled through the secretary’s office.’

‘Anything stolen?’

‘Not sure.’

‘It’s all go in Sheringham,’ said Amy.

I drove my car over the level crossing and into the Sheringham Golf Club car park.

The trains hadn’t started running yet. Apparently there was a Halloween-special train all this week and Siobhan had pestered me to take her on it. I had pretended that I had to be persuaded. Who doesn’t like a steam train?

The flags on the greens had all been taken down. Even though it had stopped raining the ground had been so soaked that the course wasn’t ready for use yet. The wind had changed direction, at least, and was blowing out to sea now, which meant it was warmer.

As I walked around the back of the clubhouse I could see that the workmen in the distance had already started constructing a new fence, some way in from the cliff edge. Solly Green, an elderly man who did odd jobs around the course and the town, was driving a small cart that was automatically picking up golf balls from the driving range that ran to the right of the building. I nodded at him as I walked by. He sketched a brief wave in response and went back to scooping up the practice balls.

Henry was in his office with his secretary, Jenny Hadley, an affable lady somewhere in her forties. She had a pleasantly rounded body, a short bobbed haircut and a twinkle in her eyes.