18 Lakeland Concerto
The statues are wise and wisdom reigns supreme-
In this world where, life, is little more than a dream
Sarah was enjoying her stay in the Lakes. The regime she was following was strict. She was on a stringent diet and a routine of regular exercise. Her days were pre-planned for her, but nonetheless she found the time to take in the winter colours of' the landscape. Set in its own woodland, 'Park- View' overlooked a vast panoramic vista A little stream that eventually wound its way down towards Grasmere Lake rippled through, the estate. Sarah-Jane liked the clean crisp air. She was feeling much better for it, although maybe the diet and ‘Dettox Plan’ she was following had a little something to do with her health improvement. Occasionally she visited the local village of Great Langdale but always with an escort. The doctors at Park View did not allow Sarah out on her own; that made Sarah feel like a criminal. “Do they think I am going to buy some smack in the local Post Office?” she once asked Don who accompanied her
“No it’s not that, It’s just that they don’t want patients falling, off the wagon so to speak. The diet is very important. It is nothing personal, just normal procedure” (What Don failed to point out was the fact that the local Post Office has gone the way of many rural shops and been closed for nigh on three years); anyway even when they were open, they sold stamps not ‘Smack’)
The clinic itself was pleasant enough but Sarah quite naturally missed home and Mark, she longed for his visit, and clutched the letter he had written to her as she walked down towards the woodland walkway She craved the news from Chesford. Here, it was as if they wanted to isolate the inmates and keep them away from any corrupting influences. Park- View was in fact a Drugs and Drink Rehabilitation Centre. Privately owned, the six-week stay had cost Mark- his savings. Edna had helped out too but they kept it from Sarah preferring the suggestion came from Dr Bhatti and trusting that Sarah-Jane would follow her advice. As it turned out, they need not have worried, Sarah considered the proposal an order and her only option of escaping Chesford General. None of that mattered now, she was happy to be here and stood on the banks of the stream that had it’s origins in Scafel Pike casting pebbles into the water. She often sat here and played pooh sticks using clump of reeds as the winning post. She told herself if Mark-s' boat won he loved her deeply.It always did of course because the current on that side of the stream was much swifter. She sat down on the bench and read Mark's letter
Sweetest Sarah
Hope you are wel1 I am missing you lots xxxxx, Starting the new job this week with the council, pretty well doing the same thing I was, but with more money. Better equipment as well I have a decent computer to start with! Sarah laughed she had heard Mark complain so many times about the inefficiency at Pointers and how much easier his job would have been with a computer. She glanced at the rippling water as it cascaded around the jagged stones in its path and could feel the first spots of rain as the sky darkened and threatened to empty, its contents on the verdant countryside. She returned to the letter,
How’s the Lakes. I’ll be up to see you next weekend. Can’t wait to see you again. Boy, what news back here. You are better off where you are Do You remember Lucy Simpson? Yes silly of me of 'course you do, all that trouble, well it turns out police have arrested her for murder Can you believe it? She seemed so nice Larry has been in the wars, got himself done over by a gang up near Hull somewhere; and that dark haired chap you got all funny about, Jenkins, turns out he’s a bent copper. I’ll tell you more when I see you but it has all been happening here. Funniest of all you, wont believe this – Jack Starr that grumpy foreman from the factory, he is a detective! Whatever next Detective Sergeant Twford from the Metropolitan Police no less It’s like living in a spy thriller or some cheap paperback! I can’t trust anyone anymore, only you darling, even Larry knew Jack was a copper, he’s been working for him, Enoch as well. Seems the whole world knew what was going on except me and you and we were in the middle of it. They have been watching the Fat Man for ages now and he’s done a runner. Sorry I’m getting carried away, it will be easier to explain when I see you, talk to you, touch you. Oh, I do miss you Sarah. My head is spinning with all the intrigue and plots that are going on. When you come home, I think we should get married and move away. There I’ve said it now. I love you Sarah-Jane…
Sarah read the words but did not really understand their import, she understood the last bit though, and her heart leapt at the suggestion of marriage, it was all she had ever wanted. Mark ended the letter in his usual style. Although he was not a prolific social letter writer he did used to write to Sarah when she was younger, and she still had them all in her dressing table drawer at home, bundled in purple ribbon.
Love you darling, sweetness and love
Loads and loads of kisses xxxxxx
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mark
Sarah was pleased to get the letter from Mark. She had been here for two weeks now, even though it seemed longer, but day by day, she was gaining in strength both mentally and physically. She was still on medication to help with her recovery but she was feeling, fine, and much better. Now, it was her heart that needed attention.
Drums that roll the sound of doom
Ever onwards into gloom and sorrows deep,
Silent witness stained with blood
Says too much for her own good;…and that of others.
Mark had returned to the Tree as Jack had asked him that night. The little package was still there and he brought it back for the detective. As it turned out Jack was his real name anyway which made life a whole lot easier, not least for the author! Mark did not see much of Jack Twford after that, not until some two weeks later, the day after he went to see Sarah in the Lakes. Jack did try to phone Mark a couple of days later but by then Mark was too busy preparing for his new job. He had used his spare, particularly whilst Sarah was away to hone up on his computer skills and re-familiarise himself with the basics in readiness for his new job with the council.
His first day in the job, however, became a bit of an anticlimax He had been looking forward so much to starting this new phase of his career, but after detectives coming out of the woodwork and all the recent events he found the routine mind numbingly boring; in fact, induction took up most of the day. Now induction is the term-most companies use to introduce new employees to procedures but put in simple terms it meant Mark spent the whole morning doing nothing. He could not get Jack Starr cum Twford out of his head and Pete Jenkins for that matter and of course, Sarah Jane was never far from his thoughts. During one of the classes, when he was supposed to learning all about the do's and don’ts of Chesford City Council regulations, he was on the banks of the Avon with Sarah in his arms, looking up at the cloud patterns in the sky - he never could see that dragon!. He had to make a serious effort to bring himself back to the job in hand.
The first real task he was given was after lunch. He was to be involved in costing the latest project. Now, you must understand that Chesford Council like all councils of that political colour were excellent at spending money. In Chesford’s case they excelled, and formed a Special Finance Committee to oversee all major projects; it was an important group, their brief was to highlight the prestige of city and promote it throughout the country-They attempted to achieve this by developing grandiose schemes, usually at great public expense, thus earning- the committee a nickname amongst council employees. N.O.M.A was in fact an acronym for 'Not Our Money Anyway'.
Past projects involved the demolition of a theatre to build a Millennium Clock, which could tell you the time in fifteen capitals of Europe. Thus, the citizens of Chesford would always know when they were left waiting for hours in the rain for a bus, that the French, Germans and Swiss had caught their trams on time. Then there was the National Football stadium fiasco. This involved bidding to host the site for a massive multi-million-pound sports stadium. The site, on a derelict gasworks with no infrastructure ensured the bid would fail but details like that did not stop NOMA from spending thousands of pounds on stickers, videos, a web-site and newspaper adverts to promote the case. In addition, of course several councillors also had to go to California for ten days to see how the Americans built their stadia. No one could ever accuse Chesford Council of not being thorough in their research.
Mark's job was to put some hard figures to the bones of the estimates for the latest high profile scheme. Three office blocks in the City Centre were to be equipped with a system of flashing coloured lights to indicate the weather and travelling conditions for the following day. One site would indicate wind direction and speed, one air quality, and the other temperature. NOMA’s initial estimate was £450.000, which meant from past experience that the final cost would be in excess of £1 million. Mark thought the weather provided by Teletext was much cheaper, but began his costing exercise anyway, quickly realising that it would not make a scrap of difference, as the Special Finance Committee would eventually do exactly as they liked. After all, they were the elected councillors, and of course, it was ‘Not Their Money Anyway!’
Meanwhile, back in the real world, Lucy Simpson was arrested, and finally charged with the murder of Michael Sands, just as her solicitor had predicted. After a long interview, which concentrated mainly on the evidence of Mr Lloyd and his statement, she was given overnight accommodation courtesy of Her- Majesty's Government. Once in the cells, Lucy descended deeper into her despair. She was unused to the ways of police interrogation having never been in any sort of trouble before. Angus Fulchard had assured her that she would be granted bail in the morning, well ninety percent certain anyway; he said. ‘The police did not object, subject to the normal conditions’. Although it was a murder case, they did not consider her a danger to the public (perhaps only a danger to middle aged men in wheel chairs). In view of the overwhelming evidence of the doctor's statement, D.S. Tatton was a little surprised, however at her stubbornness in response to his questions.
“Well the doctor is wrong!” She announced
“You are a medical expert then. Mrs Simpson?”
“I am a qualified nurse.” Lucy continued to argue
“But not a neurologist” the detective countered “or a surgeon”
“Please do not bully my client please Superintendent” Angus had adjoined”
She could offer no explanation as to the 'miraculous’ recovery of Michael and his ability to defy, the surgeon’s expectations with regard to his super human sexual exploits. Nor could she shed any light on the medication that Michael had taken. “Marsha was having trouble getting Michael to take them so she left them on the table for me to give him, but I didn't get back in time.” She explained
“Did Mr Sands often play up like this?” the detective asked
“No certainly not with me, he had been funny lately but I put that down to my spending less time with him, my husband you know....”
“Ah yes, your husband. Bob isn’t it?”
“But weren't you engaged to Mr Sands?” D.S. Tatton went straight for the throat
“No I er..” Lucy hesitated ““not as such, he wanted to marry me but I had not yet divorced Bob”
“Did you tell Mr Sands that?”
“I am sure he knew I was married already”
“Did you tell Michael Sands about your husband before he bought the engagement ring?”
Derrick rephrased the same question
“Not in so many words”
..“What words did you use then?”
“I can't remember exactly I just tried to stall him, I hadn't fully worked out what to do myself” Angus Fulchard came to his clients rescue again and informed Detective Sergeant Tatton that Mrs Simpson had already made inquiries too his office regarding the divorce. “So you see Sergeant it was her intention, certainly at the beginning, to finalise the separation from her husband. It was the unfortunate accident to Mr Simpson that clouded the issue and threw everything up into confusion”
“I thank you Mr Fulchard for your candid appraisal but I still find this whole business a little bewildering” Derrick actually found Angus Fulchard interventions a little bit of a nuisance but he returned the line of questioning regarding the tablets “Did you administer those tablets” he said to Lucy . “No I didn't get back until after,..” her voice trailed off. She was visibly upset
“So could he have taken them himself?”
“With difficulty, but yes I am sure he could”
“How many were left in the bottle, can you remember?”
“Yes one bottle, the brown one was nearly full; I had only fetched them on his prescription the day before, the other ones would have had about seven or eight left. He was not due any more of those for another week.
“It was you who always collected the prescriptions then?”
“Of Course, sometimes Michael came with me” Lucy answered
“Sergeant, have you completed the forensic examination and established the cause of death yet?” her solicitor interrupted proceedings once again
“Not entirely we are still awaiting lab reports.”
“Then may I respectfully suggest we leave that line of enquiry until the facts have been verified?” Derrick Tatton agreed, he could see no point in pursuing Lucy Simpson any longer until he had something more concrete. She was tired and at her solicitors request he left Lucy alone to rest. He was not getting anywhere, just covering old ground and realised she was not going to admit to anything he did not already know. She was proving a difficult nut to crack.
Lucy sat in the small walled cell unbelieving that which had befallen her. Two weeks ago, she had finally made up her mind to ditch Bob and marry Michael. She knew it was no longer pity that she felt for him. Perhaps it never was. She had become quite fond, possibly even in love with him. It didn't matter now; one man was dead and the other crippled for life in a wheelchair. If she had believed in God she would have cursed him “I must be a -jinx on these men,” she had told her solicitor instructing him to continue with the divorce proceeding against Bob.
“Let us deal with your present predicament for now” he replied
Love is sweet and his hearts desire
Rainbow smile through eves of fire.
Stolen kisses and a lovers tryst:
```Hidden secrets in the mist.
Mark travelled up to the Lakes in Larry’s motor. It did not take as long as they had thought it would, but it did give Mark chance to tell Larry about last night and Jack Twford
“Do you know what's going on Laz?”
“Not a clue mate - I'm staying well out of it now.” Larry did explain to Mark how Jack had first approached him and brought him to Pointers as a driver. Evidently, Larry had always been on the fringe of ‘police work;’ anything for a ‘buck, that was Larry He had been working on and off for Jack since he first recruited him some three years earlier. He had been Jack’s casual informer for about eighteen months before coming to Pointers and was only too happy to help out. “He was trying to stop corruption in the force,” Larry concluded
“Yes 1 know that much, but there more to it, where's the Fat Man fit in?”
“He doesn't fit in that's why he is known as the Fat Man” Larry quipped “No seriously they have been on to him for months, probably years but could never get anything on him. Jack was convinced he had an insider at the top. You know funny handshakes and the like. This operation was supposed to catch the whole shooting match in one. Bit of a loner our Jack, always going out on a limb” Mark told Larry about his visit to the club, and how Jack wanted his help to trap Jenkins.
“Hope you told him where to go, young Mark” Larry piped up
“Initially I did, but then I got to thinking about Sarah, I owe to her to get to the bottom of it”
“Believe me son, you don’t owe that girl at thing, she idolises you anyway, what’s more if you want my advice, you’ll keep well out of it all”
The friend's conversation eventually turned to Lucy Simpson. At least the media had stopped its colourful exposés after her arrest. Larry was an avid tabloid reader and thus remained convinced by it all. (He also watched soap operas on television and believed in Santa Claus) He pronounced her guilty. Mark said very little on the subject but thought plenty. He just could not see that the woman he sat drinking with in Casper's could be guilty of such a heinous act.
……………………………………………..
Sarah was in her small room when the tall man in a white coat showed Mark through to see her. Mark was a little shocked at all the security it made the place seem more like a prison than a hospital, but he assumed it was for the best. Sarah did not wait for the escort to disappear; she ran towards Mark and crushed him towards her
“I’ve been waiting all day for you” she enthused “I have been so looking forward to seeing you. I love you Mark”
“I love you too petal. Sorry 'bout the letter by the way bit messy really”
“No I loved it, I have read it loads”
The two bodies untwisted themselves and sat on the edge of Sarah’s bed and Mark began to relate the complicated tale of the last few days.................
……………………………………………………..
“Hello D. S. Tatton here.” Jenkins watched as his boss answered the phone and saw him listening without much reply to the voice on the end of the line. He could see Derricks face change and visibly whiten before displaying a puzzled expression. The telephone conversation ended; Jenkins could not wait to discover the content of the call.
“What’s up?” he said
“That was the lab on the phone; the samples don t match”
“What samples don't match?”
“Don't be obtuse, Pete, the swabs from the body and the ones sent up from London”
Jenkins, like most coppers was not very bright, hence despite being not much younger than Derrick Tatton he was still a Sergeant. He stood silently trying to work out in his own little brain what it all meant. His thoughts finally found a voice “But what....
Derrick continued ignoring his minion's protestations. “That means” he sighed “the body from Pitchers Gardens was not the Michael Sands that Mr Lloyd operated on in London”
“But he must be” a spluttered response was all Jenkins could manage He was devastated.
“Evidently not! We will have to order a second post mortem and find out who the hell he was. Organise it with Sheila will you and get the solicitor and Lucy Simpson back in for a formal ID and I'll get onto London again.
“This lets the lady of the hook now then?” Jenkins ventured nervously
“I don't know about that, if she still thought it was Michael Sands she could still have been after his money. Perhaps she only knew him as Michael Sands.” D.S. Tatton pondered “And” he continued, “We now know that Michael Sands was required to marry in order to receive the final part of his Trust Fund, if our Lucy Simpson knew that as well. Who knows what she thought?
“Well at least we know she was telling the truth about the sex.”
“We know nothing Jenkins, nothing.”
……………………………………………………………………
Sarah Jane was far more interested in getting Mark to respond to her ministrations than listen to his story. She soon lost interest in the intrigue and eventually suggested they go for a walk and Mark agreed, escorting his young lover to the banks of Langdale stream. These two weeks were the longest they had ever been apart in all the time they had known each other. Mark and Sarah strolled hand in hand like two lovesick teenagers, which indeed is what they were. “Remember that time we lay on the grass at Tratford” Sarah wistfully said as they sat on the neatly coiffured carpet by the little stream.
“Yes, those swans remember?”
“I remember the clouds, look up there now,” she said pointing to a flat looking cloud with a bulbous nodule at one end “There's a giant hedgehog”
Mark had never been able to comprehend Sarah's' ability to see faces and figures in the sky and always assumed it was her vivid imagination. To Mark a cloud was a cloud, no mystical powers, no magical beasts, just the possibility of rain! They spent most of the afternoon in each other’s arms. It was as if they were meeting for that first date; only without the nervousness. Fortunately, when Don appeared on the horizon to announce that tea was about to be served, they were disengaged from each other and merely chatting.
“Stay a little while longer Mark, please” her voice was soft and pleading
“I told Larry 5 o'clock in the town, he has been good to run me up here you know”
“Just a bit longer” Sarah gave her lover the puppy dog look with doleful eyes and pursed lips. She fluttered her long lashes. Mark could never resist feminine trickery
“Five minutes; Larry will be waiting”
Sarah leant over and kissed him on the cheek. They walked back towards Park View and Mark left Sarah at the gate with tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He turned several times as he walked up the drive. Sarah was still waving furiously. He blew her a final kiss and she faded into the landscape becoming no more than a black speck on the green carpet.
…………………………………………………….
Even deeper are the mysteries of life, when then, involve someone else death
Puzzling through, eternal flames, not waiting for the victims to draw their breath
The second post mortem on the body found at Pitchers Gardens, originally believed to be Michael Sands was completed. No spinal injuries were found. Mr Lloyd from the London hospital, which treated Michael Sands, confirmed that the body was not that of his patient. Lucy Simpson and Michaels' solicitor, Mr Longton, however, contradicted that and made statements to the effect that the corpse was indeed that of the man they knew to be Michael Sands.
This unexpected turn of events led Detective Superintendent Derrick Tatton back to the bungalow. Still under pressure from his superiors to climb the statistics ladder he had the computer taken away by Jenkins analysed systematically searching the hard drives for clues. They could find nothing. The audio diaries on the other hand removed from the house on the original visit, provided a better source of information. They seemed to vary in pitch and tone, and although sounding similar, some differences were detectable on the voice print analyser and the experts established a change in the voice recording the diaries about a year previous.
The Detective Super was secretly quite pleased that the investigation had become more complicated. He liked a case to get his teeth into. (Perhaps that is why his dentist bills were so high) His quick dismissal of the routine suicide had been proved correct. His instinct had led him to Lucy Simpson and his policeman's intuition was rarely wrong. At least her stubbornness to his questioning was now understandable, but if she thought that her charge was indeed Michael Sands then the prima facia case against her still stood up. There remained the puzzle of' the mystery man and indeed, where was the real Michael Sands. Derrick sighed shaking his head, trying to make some sort of sense of it all. Jenkins had slipped outside to get some air he was feeling quite ill!
“What the hell are you doing phoning me” the voice replied
“I’m in a call-box; it’s okay. Michael Sands, the book keeper whoever he was he wasn't Michael Sands”
“So! - did you dump the disc?”
“Yeah. I switched the computers, got rid of the old one”
“Good! So there is nothing to connect us then”
“But the body?” Jenkins complained
“Why the panic?”
“The accountant, whatever his name was, where did he fit in?”
“Who's asking Marlon or Jenkins?”
“Just me I'm puzzled this is getting far too complicated”
“Don't give yourself an ulcer. It doesn't matter. You did your job. You'll get –paid, now leave someone else to do the worrying” The phone went silent and Jenkins walked back along the path to the avenue, passed the pool and up towards the old oak. It's broad silhouette standing out on the horizon like a lost giant searching for its mate. There were people milling around as he walked past the tree and into the car park of the Roostertail where he had left his car. He sat puffing on a filter and tried to look busy, pretending to read the newspaper whilst in reality he was killing time. He waited for the coast to clear, and then he went back- to collect the envelope. He counted the notes and placed them in his wallet.