15. Requiem
Love lies bleeding, desperate, and cold
Love disappears as the drama unfolds
Larry was singing to himself along with the tinny sound on the radio in the Transit. He was on the way back to Denton’s’ yard with another order for Hunterprint. They were the biggest publishers in the north and produced most of the top shelf magazines on sale in newsagents. This specialisation had earned Hunterprint an unsavoury nickname amongst Pointer employees; Larry always returned with ‘freebies’ which he put in the canteen for the lads. The day was getting gradually brighter and Larry was a particularly good mood. The Fat Man had left him alone for over a week; in fact, no one at all had seen Jack Forman for days now. Larry was oblivious to the black Mercedes van that had been waiting by the junction of the Nottingham rd and the side road that led to the docks. The two occupants saw the Pointers Ink van as it came over the brow of the hill. They manoeuvred the Mercedes across the road to block off any escape route and waited.
It was the last thing that Larry was expecting at that time of the morning, on such a quiet road. He braked hard, the squealing of the wheels interrupting the dawn chorus and bringing to a merciful end his off-key rendition of ‘Papa was a Rolling Stone’. He was still sitting in the cab shocked, when the doors opened and he was dragged out. He did not remember what happened next, except that when he awoke he felt terrible. A policeman was helping him to his feet and guiding him back to the Transit. It was painful because of the bruising, but Larry opened his eyes. The load was gone!
“Ink” stammered Larry in answer to a question not asked
“Now why would any body want to steal a van-load of ink?” pondered the local bobby, who just happened to be passing the scene on his way to arrest a five-year girl for not having a bell on her bike. “I’ve sent for back-up and an ambulance to have you checked out. Some of our boys from the West Midlands are taking an interest they told me to stay put. The C.I.D. are on their way evidently.
Buggered if I know what’s going on. Lot of fuss about nothing if you ask me” Larry was not asking
He had passed out again, which in a way was a blessing, as he did not have to hear P.C., Ryan’s ramblings. Like most fresh-faced youths, that the police now seem to employ Ryan was an amiable enough chap, but boring. It is perhaps now official Police policy to wear down criminals into confessing their misdemeanours by boring them to the point of distraction. Along with his monotone voice, P.C. Ryan had an IQ level of a mentally deficient mouse so could only speak in words of one or two syllables, adding to the crassness of his demeanour. He was obviously well suited to the constabulary.
………………………………………………………………….
Marsha, Lucy’s temporary replacement was puzzled as she entered Michael’s living room as to why he wasn’t staring at the four walls and shouting back at her for being ten minutes late. She went into the back room. She could hear the morbid rock music blaring out its depressing lyrics:
Life is a prison without the bars, blue blood is colder than red
Listen to your heart and sing its song, come on, you’re a long time dead
If I gave you your chance to live your life again, to put all the wrong things right,
Would you jump at the chance or not change a thing
Would you start right away tonight?
She followed the music into Michael’s office, it was unusual to find the door unlocked. Michael was inside slumped in his chair. His arms hanging by his side. The empty pill boxes were on the floor beside him. Marsha took one look at his bluish complexion and knew; she had seen dead bodies before. She dialled 999 and the ambulance arrived within minutes to take Michael to the hospital. The paramedics tried to resuscitate him but failed and the doctors pronounced him dead on arrival.
Life is a prison Life is a prison
Come on, you’re a long time dead
The policewoman turned the music off and took Marsha outside whilst her colleagues began their gruesome work. The carer was inconsolable, she did not like Michael that much, but she did not hate him and certainly would not wish him any ill.
Lucy meanwhile was spending the whole day with Bob trying to teach him how to manoeuvre the wheel chair on his own. They had gone out to Centenary Park, a local amenity on the south side of the city, not far from the city centre. In the recent past, it had been very popular with the local residents, who would sit and enjoy the squirrels and various birds that flocked there and came out of hiding whenever they spotted human company. Lately, however, the park, left to its own devices had fell into neglect; the peacocks had all gone, and the place had become a bit of a wasteland; a haven for the unemployed and unemployable, the tramps, winos and drug addicts. So much in fact that people rarely ventured into the park after dark, which was as well really because the over zealous Park- Keeper belonged to the ‘Jobs Worth ‘brigade and locked the gates promptly at 6pm Winter or Summer. Rules are rules!
It was not an especially warm day but at least it stopped raining and Bob was enjoying Lucys’ company. He was a fast learner and Lucy a patient teacher, she was pleased with his progress and looked forward to Bob being independent. She thought it might ease her dilemma and perhaps her conscience, so that she could deal with Michael. Her heart was still with him, but her head was firmly with Bob even if it was a little up in the air at the moment. Inner turmoil raged within Lucy, and as she was genuinely worried about Sarah-Jane. Her gloom had deepened when Mark had not shown up at Casper’s, despite all her other faults, Lucy was a compassionate creature and she fretted about the situation. She was completely opposite to her husband in that she was a born pessimist and always feared the worst in every given scenario
“Shall we go and visit Sarah this afternoon?” she eventually said to her husband
“I Think I have spent enough time in that place, don’t you?” Bob argued, although he was quite pleasant bout it; he seemed to have left his belligerent face back in Newcastle.
“I know, but I am worried after what went on the other day and I’d rather like to see if she’s alright” Lucy spoke absently to her spouse
“Well, you go if you like. I’ll be alright,” he looked straight at the furrowed brow of his wife. “Honestly, I will be fine for a couple of hours on my own” he continued with a smile. He really was making an effort. Lucy did notice but was too wrapped up in her thoughts to pay much attention
They walked back through the park and Lucy pushed Bob along the miserable tarmac paths, taking great care to avoid the potholes, deliberately set there by Chesford council in an attempt to trap drunken youth and exuberant teenagers, but in fact they only served to annoy the elderly and disabled who were constantly getting their wheelchairs stuck. It was not an unusual sight in Chesford to see the Fire Brigade charging through the city streets, in all its glory, to rescue some poor wheel chair bound occupant who had fallen foul of a deep pothole. It was just as they arrived at the gate of the little bungalow, that Lucy saw the police car draw up to the kerb. The two policemen helped her push Bob up the path. They had come to inform Lucy of Michael Sands death.
The shadow of the sun hides the secrets of the sea as the sun sets over the water
The dawn of tomorrow hides the dusk of today, and life just gets gradually shorter
The colours of evening hide the blackness of night as reflections paint over the ocean
The haze of her mind hid the truth from his view and her worlds in perpetual motion……..
Sarah felt a jolt as the electrodes fired and she was staring up at the ceiling again. The monitors burst into life and her aching heart began its work once more. This time she could feel Mark as he held her wrist. His grip was firm. His hand was warm and soft. The music was loud, but Edna’s sobs were even louder. Her eyes flickered into life and she stirred attempting to cover her burning ears
“Noise, noise” Sarah’s weak voice rang out over the commotion. Mark reached over to turn off the cassette player. The nurse quickly drew the curtains back round the bed and went off in search of the consultant.
“Sarah my sweet, where have you been? You had us worried there for a bit” Mark said to his sweetheart
“Everywhere, Mark, I’ve been everywhere” Sarah replied “Mark I am soscared”
“Don’t be, we’re here now, your mum is still here, she over there” Mark gestured towards the other side of the bed, where Edna was smiling through her reddened eyes She had been weeping tears of joy
Edna leant over towards her daughter and kissed her gently between the wires and tubes that spoilt the beauty of her young face “I will go on home now that I know that you’re alright; I have to get Mary back from your Grans and you father will want his dinner” Edna said “Yo’ll be okay now” she continued through her tears.
Sarah nodded slowly and said “Mark’s here Mum, I’ll be okay now. It was nice to see two friendly faces when I woke up, thank you for being here. She held her mums hand as Edna hugged her tightly.
The doctor soon arrived and began the routine checks “I’m hungry and my ears hurt” Sarah said in response to the doctors enquiry, but she soon became quite agitated at being prodded about and at her inability to answer any of the questions put to her. She remembered nothing of the accident
“I remember the forest and running through the trees, someone was chasing me, I think! I saw a doctor in a crisp white coat. It was all calm and peaceful, white light was all around me. Then there was a man in a red striped shirt and fancy braces” Sarah was rambling
“I think you should get some rest now” The doctor spoke softly and then turning to the nurse snapped out specific instructions regarding medication. Mark overheard their cosy chat “She was talking about Dr Bhatti and the surgeon wasn’t she?” the nurse asked the doctor” No, no that is quite impossible, she was unconscious when she was brought in. It is all part of her vivid imagination; she has been very ill. She is probably still hallucinating We will take her off the drip but increase the sedative until Dr Bhatti comes on” The nurse pretended to busy herself puffing up the pillows and smoothing the bedclothes whilst the doctor made adjustments to the chart. After they left Sarah looked at Mark
“I could see everything” Sarah-Jane said softly to Mark, “and I could hear those two, they may not believe me, but I did see it - it was beautiful Mark I did”
“It’s okay I believe, don’t get upset about it., we’ll talk to Dr Bhatti later, she understands these things better than anyone” he replied trying to calm Sarah down as she was becoming restless
“I don’t care what anyone says, I know what I saw and it was real” Sarah continued petulantly “okay I told I believe you, you know that, but to be fair you have been a bit detached from ‘real’ lately don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry” Sarah had not forgotten her schoolgirl petulant look that melted Mark instantly
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mark asked trying not to sound too angry
“I knew how you felt about that sort of thing, I thought I could handle it, you know” but
Mark did not know that was why he had asked “You could have been killed, you ran out in front of a car; stark naked as well!” Mark added as if being naked was somehow more of a sin than being dead “The driver is in a bad way, paralysed; he will be in a wheel chair for the rest of his life”
“Oh Mark” Sarah-Jane was genuinely shocked and tears came to her eyes “I thought I was dead now I wish that I was”
“Don’t be silly, you have had a very lucky escape and I intend to keep you alive and on the straight and narrow from now on. I have had a word with Dr Bhatti and she has said she can get you place at a clinic she knows in the Lake District. She reckons you can recuperate up there and finish with all that stuff for good” Sarah wasn’t listening anymore, she had fallen back to sleep as the medication took effect, and Mark was left holding her hand and caressing her slim wrist, where the needle marks from the drip had left a small scar.
Ghosted love of living beauty, walking through his sleep
Her smiling lips began to speak as painted willows weep
Worried eyes watch anxiously, beneath her silken hair
His mind awoke and he arose, but Sarah wasn’t there!
…………………………………………………………………………….
The red Mercedes sped over the shiny wet surface, the Fat Man reached over to answer his mobile and silence its appalling rendition of Beethoven’s’ 5th
“Yes” he snapped through the microphone
“Need to abort Jack, need to abort”
“Abort? No chance, can’t you control your own men”
“It’s gone too far for that” the voice on the other end continued “they are others involved, evidently they have been on to you for months”
“I’ll take you and some others with me - you know I will”
“Calm down, Jack, just postpone the operation for now and pick it up later on. Lay low for a bit see what transpires” the voice sounded almost pleading though it managed to keep the authoritative tone. “All we need is a bit of rest bite till the heat’s off” he added
“Great! That’s just great, and what am supposed to do about the council post now?”
“I think you had better forget that for now, don’t you, you know what the press are like if they get hold of something. You don’t want to attract any attention to yourself unnecessarily do you? Once the papers take hold they never let go. You of all people should know that!”
“They only print what you lot tell ‘em, George, I’m not happy about this at all”
“Leave it for now, just till it all blows over”
He replaced the receiver and turned on the radio, attempting to subdue his anger with Wagner at full volume.
……………………………………………………………………
“The girl has woken up” the message was shouted across the office and spurred D.S Tatton into action “Jenkins you come with me, Sheila stall the Boss, if he asks we’re out dealing with a new lead. Don’t tell him where we are going”
“I don’t know where you are going” Sheila answered
“Good girl!”
With the prospect of a lead in the case at last, Derrick was filled with anticipation (which actually makes quite a change from what most British policemen are filled with) as he walked into Chesford General Hospital. He and Jenkins managed to sneak past the reception desk without detection. In fact, the girl on the reception desk rarely saw anyone; in between painting her toenails, and filing her teeth, she was usually chatting at the coffee machine. They made their way to the Admin Office where someone had kindly left a list of which patients were in which particular ward. Sarah-Jane was on the third floor. Jenkins and Derrick Tatton went over to the elevators
“You keep watch for the staff nurse” D.S. Tatton ordered Jenkins “I’ll go and see the girl; it’s my neck that’s on the line over this one!”
“Yes Boss” Jenkins replied
Sarah-Jane sat up in bed and was chatting to Mark when the Detective Superintendent walked in
“Do you think you’re up to some questions now?” he said briefly showing his warrant card
“I don’t know.....” her voice trailed off “I don’t remember anything really” she continued
“We just need a name, who was supplying you?
“I don’t know, honestly, I never…..” Mark squeezed her hand “I really think it’s too early for these questions Sergeant, if you don’t mind” Mark addressed the D.S.
“Detective Superintendent to you sonny, we are dealing with serious crimes here. One man is already dead and your girlfriend here has been very lucky.” He turned back towards Sarah “Now miss, if you could possibly remember a name anything you might have heard”
“Sir” Jenkins popped his head around the door and nodded to his superior. Sarah-Jane froze and Mark could not help but notice the panic on her face. She closed her eyes and pretended to go back to sleep.
Jenkins warning came too late the staff nurse was striding towards the room. D.S. Tatton and Detective sergeant Jenkins hurriedly left the building “Bugger” the superior officer said to his minion, “If she reports us we’re done for”
“You knew him!” Mark said to Sarah quietly after the two policemen had left
“I’ve seen him at the back of the club, by the Tree” Sarah-Jane replied
“Not that gnarly old oak by the path to the car park? “Mark queried
“The Marmalade Tree” Sarah replied” we call it the Marmalade Tree
“I never heard it called that before” Mark laughed
“It was a drop for the stuff. We used to pick it up from there, you paid John or one of the others, they went off to get your order, and you collected it from the tree. You see I really don’t know who was selling it, honestly.” She looked almost pleadingly at Mark “But that man” she continued “he was talking to John Simmons by the tree once. I’ve seen him there before; he was always hanging around” She seen him in her dreams as well but she did not tell Mark that bit.
“Perhaps he was working undercover,” Mark offered
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him” Sarah was shaking visibly. Mark held her tightly and kissed her gently on her forehead.
Dancing in the mind of a thousand darkened lives,
Drowning ‘neath the fear of sharpened silver knives;
Hearts that dream constantly but long to be set free,
Drift in shadows; deep in the shade of the Marmalade Tree
Inspector Cook picked up the red telephone as soon as it rang out its raucous sound. He knew it would be important. “Hello Inspector Cook” he answered in his efficient professional voice.
“Charlie” It was the chief
“Yes George”
“The Jack Forman operation, I thought we had closed it down?”
“Just about Sir, Is there a problem?” He knew full well that George Evans would not be calling him for a social chat. The Chief Constable never rang anyone just for a social chat
“No, Charlie not a problem, just a bloody disaster! Your Detective Super has blundered his way into the Mets territory, they have had a man in there for months” The Chief was angry
“We had no idea”
“You weren’t supposed to .The undercover boys have been setting it up for two years and now Jack Forman’s’ got wind of trouble and gone to ground. Evidently the receivers been called in and the factory’s closing. They are not happy!” The Chief thundered, Charlie Cook just listened silently cursing D.S. Tatton under his breath. The Chief continued without waiting for a response from him “Do you really know what your men are doing Charlie? Are you on top of the action, because if you’re not up to the job, there’s plenty that are? Now get Tatton off the case and see if we can salvage something.” The phone went silent and the Inspector was about to reply when it started up again “And Charlie while I’m on I have got the re-organisation details here We got to make three divisions out of the four we’ve got now, so ‘C’ division will be in the top three next month won’t it?”
“Yes Sir” Charlie Cook replied but the phone was dead the Chief rarely waited for a reply when he was in that mood. Discussion was not an option he encouraged. The Inspector was left speechless. He was never fully aware of what his teams were doing, his style was to let them get on with it, while he filled in the interminable forms and tried to balance the books, but now he felt completely impotent. Events had overtaken him. He must act quickly.
“Send Detective Superintendent Tatton in to see me, please Angela,” he announced through the intercom brusquely. D.S. Tatton and Sergeant Jenkins had watched from the outer office the animated conversation Charlie Cook was having, or rather not having, but they witnessed his expression changing and smelt trouble. When the call came through for Derrick, it was not unexpected
“What you don’t realise Derrick” Inspector Cook said staring hard at the officer” Is that the Met are involved, they have had a man in there for months and you’ve just blown it all out of the water”
“Jack Starr, Sir, the foreman? Derrick replied
“You knew? The inspector raised an eyebrow
“No not till just now and even then it’s only an educated guess. Sheila has been digging through the employment records to find our informer, Jack Starr fits the bill.”
“Well it’s too late now. I told you specifically to leave Pointers alone. didn’t I?” he glanced at Derrick Tatton but did not wait for answer.” Now let’s see if you can keep a low profile and take orders. Get yourself over to Pitchers Gardens with the forensic team and wrap that up will you. You should be able to manage that without causing any ructions; it seems fairly straightforward. We need a top three position this month or there we’ll all be looking for early retirement. And Derrick” he said just as the Detective Super made to answer lets hope there isn’t an inquiry over this because I’m not going anywhere. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly Sir” D.S. Tatton opened the door and left the Inspectors office. He marched across the worn green carpet of the outer office and into his own, slamming the door behind him. Jenkins knowing his boss well gingerly opened the door and peered in
“Can I help Derrick?” he asked
“Come in Pete, sit down” he gestured to the old armchair that he had brought in himself when he moved home last year.
“What’s up gaffer?” Pete Jenkins seemed genuinely concerned for his boss
“More bad figures is it?”
“Wish that’s all it was. No! It’s your bloody informer Pete. I think he’s an undercover man.“You’re kidding”
“No. The Met have had a man in Pointers for months evidently. Now they decide to tell us!”
Pete Jenkins sat silent for a few minutes staring into space, trying to weigh up the implications of the words he had just heard
“But why would he be giving us tip offs if they are involved themselves, I don’t understand” Jenkins eventually replied
“Oh who knows how the Met works. They have always been a law unto themselves. They got some big operation called ‘Marmalade Tree’ of all things, bloody daft name for an operation if you ask me”. Unfortunately, D.S.Tatton was looking out of his window at the time and had his back to Jenkins; otherwise, he might have seen a flicker of recognition in his sergeant’s eyes to the words he’d just uttered.