19 Nocturne
The Statues are staring up at the sky
They know all the answers but not the reasons why
It was during this time on his own, whilst Sarah was away at Park View that Mark became quite competent with his computer skills and became almost an expert in ‘Windows’. (If such a thing were possible, which given the in built hidden files and dynamic obsolescence I personally doubt) Not only did this prove useful in his new job at the council but also became an interest, which he developed at every opportunity. It helped take his mind off Sarah Jane. The second hand machine he had purchased locally was state of the art compared to the '486' he had traded in; this one had a microphone, a web cam, two hard discs and a CD writer. It was a lot faster than his old one, but still well below industry standards these days, with a ‘750’ Pentium processor.
Mark explored both the hard discs. The previous owner had left some programs on the machine, including various games and an office suite. One program,’ Family Tree’ was specialist genealogical software that enabled you to create your own family pedigree chart, something in which he had always had a fascination. Mark clicked on the icon to start the program and began by entering the names of his grandparents. He typed in, as much information as he could remember using his hand written notes as a prompt, and considered the next step would have to be a visit to his Great Aunt Jessie in Wales, and perhaps even a trip to the local records office in town. He was to become very interested in genealogy and along with the computer; it became an all-consuming passion.
Before closing down at the end of his session Mark decided to clean up the desktop He had a tidy mind and wanted his computer the same way, so he spent several minutes customising the screen to his tastes and deleting unwanted items. He changed the boring standard screensaver and put a 'Theme' on the desktop. Anna Kournikova was much preferable to fish swimming in an artificial sea He checked the Recycle Bin before emptying it just as Mr. Simkiss, his old teacher had always taught him and during this process Mark noticed some files that he had not put there. ‘Smith.fob’ was one of them and Mark immediately recognised it as a database file from the Family Tree program. He clicked restore and re-opened the program, hoping to see the history and chart of the Smith family. Unfortunately, when he tried to open the file the screen asked him for a password. “How stupid” Mark said aloud “Who would want to password your family history.” It made him even more intrigued and pondered over the possible password He tried some common words, randomly plucked from the ether, in the hope that it would be a fairly simple and obvious answer. It wasn’t! “I wonder what the big secret is, a few skeletons in the old family cupboard no doubt” He began entering random combinations of letters in a vain attempt to uncover the enigma. He gave up after numerous futile attempts, and went upstairs to make himself a coffee.
It was some time later when he was sitting on the armchair near a low glass coffee table, he picked up the notes he had made a couple of days previously, when Jack Twford called. There was a sketch of a large Oak tree in the centre of the white page with the legend ‘Tree’ under it in capitals. That was Jacks handiwork. Red and blue arrows came off in all directions pointing to the various events of recent weeks. Mark did not understand why Jack had drawn some arrows in red pen and some in blue, was it significant, or did his pen just run out? Mark had asked the detective for a diagram to explain the situation, and Jack had obliged, going in to great detail about the various fractions as he saw them. Mark stared at the document and read the annotations trying to clarify everything in his mind and make sense of it all. It was just as he was about halfway through his second cigarette when it hit him; the old tree, the ‘Kings Oak. ’Family Tree - it was too obvious surely Jack had told him it was colloquially known as the Marmalade tree, after a street name for a designer drug, and he remembered Sarah-Jane calling it that as well, the idea intrigued on him. “Worth a try” he shouted to the empty flat and he ran back downstairs to the computer, He clicked on the ‘Tree’ icon, on the desktop ‘Open Existing File’ he selected Smith fob The screen, flashed its usual message ‘Please enter Password’ Mark carefully typed M A R M A L A D E T R E E Bingo! He was in. “How fantastic” he screamed but the screen stayed silent. By a stroke of sheer luck, (or as Mark would like to think inspired genius) he was into the database, however instead of' seeing descendants of the Smith family as he might have expected, all Mark could see was a screen full of initials and .numbers with links from one to the other. There did appear to be a hierarchical structure to the family but it was certainly the most unusual family he had ever seen., and the password, “Must belong to a local” though Mark, Why else use Marmalade Tree. He printed the page off and closed down the program, returning upstairs to the lounge. What on earth did it all mean? He looked at the sheet. Not all the initials had numbers, they could be dates, but some looked like bits of telephone numbers. There did not appear to be any sort of pattern; Mark loved a puzzle and spent some time pondering over the paper he had printed off. Whoever deleted it, he thought had not been very thorough, so perhaps there was no mystery and it was not that important after all. Was it just a coincidence the password turned out to be a phrase well known in certain quarters locally? After recent events, nothing surprise Mark anymore so he put the paper down and went off to work.
It was several days later when Mark realised the significance of the sheet of paper. In an idle moment he had been playing with the initials and numbers, trying different codes: a for 1, b for 2 etc, nothing seemed to fit, but once when he was looking at the top line he stared at the initials J F. Under the top letters was the number 770 below that was C.C. 695 and almost level with those initials was J.S. with 2771 alongside it. Mark decided to fool around with the numbers, which he thought looked remarkably like a mobile phone number.
He rearranged them and tried dialling different combinations, more in hope than any real anticipation. Eventually he got lucky, merely reversing the whole thing 077 -596-1772 “I told you not to use this number again” the voice was sharp arid snappy, and not all that unknown to Mark. It sounded familiar!
“I’m so sorry,” said Mark I must have got the wrong number” and he quickly put down the receiver. Fortunately, he had remembered to dial 1471 before ringing so the brusque voice could not trace his number. The initials meant nothing to him, although he amused himself with the notion that J.F. was Jack Forman and J.S. was Jack Starr. He decided to ring Jack and tell him of his find and about the phone call, he had made even though at the time he still did not think it of particular import, after all it hadn’t been deleted properly and cracking the password had been easy The voice annoyed him though. Did he know it, or was it just one of those voices?
Sunlight casts its shadow onto the Lakeland scene
Never asking questions about where it has been.
Blue sky forms a canopy to all her hopes and fears.
Sarah Jane finds happiness, after all the tears
Sarah lay on her bed staring up at the cream ceiling above her. The headaches that used to plague her had now all but disappeared and she felt much better. Since Mark's visit, she had felt elated. The doctors were pleased with her progress as well, and she was now having additional psychological counselling to overcome any fears of returning to the outside world from her protected environment. It was true she did have slight apprehension about the ‘real world’; she had been divorced from it for so long now. She genuinely wanted to lead a normal drug free life. She wanted it for, Mark and her mother as much for herself. She had suffered a massive shock and knew that she was lucky to still be alive, and now she had her whole life to look forward to, the rest of her life with Mark. Dr Bhatti had impressed on her when she first arrived at the clinic just how much they would need her co-operation “You must want to give up or we can't help you,” she had said
“I do, I do” Sarah screamed back. The dim light cast a weird shadow across the small room and Sarah Jane drifted off into a deep sleep. She had been sleeping much better lately, no vivid dreams or frightening nightmares. The spiders seemed to have returned to their lair. She did get the occasional flashback “Think of something pleasant” they had told her so she went off onto the wings of slumber with Mark in her arms, as well as on her mind. She still had his letter on her bedside cabinet and read the relevant part over and over in her head She remembered the first time they met. Quite all achievement considering she was having trouble remembering her own name a few weeks ago……….
The three girls were walking home from school, Sarah Jane and a couple of her friends. Sarah was on the end of the row, head in a book as usual and she literally bumped into Mark She remembered how he smiled his wonderful warming smile as he picked up her copy of Shakespeare, and how impressed he seemed with her bookishness.
“Romeo and Juliet; have you read it.?” Mark said with his mischievous eyes twinkling in the summer sun
“Yes, we are studying it for GCSE”, she replied coyishly
“Very appropriate, here you are,” he squeezed her hand as he passed the volume to Sarah and looked straight into the deep brown pools where her eyes once resided. It was magnetic. Carly and Paula were giggling - Sarah was amazed at her powers of recall. What was Paula's surname now – oh yes Frimpton we used to call her Po, although she could not remember why.
It was a whole week later before she saw Mark again. It was called Big Gs back in those days before it became the Roostertail. She could even remember the song they danced to: Percy Sledge: ‘When a Man Loves A Woman’. Mark acted like the perfect gentleman; he was only a couple of years older than Sarah and so she readily accepted his offer of a date. (She was not too keen on figs though).That was nearly three years ago, before she disappeared beneath the swirling mists into the dreamy stupor of uppers and downers descending the dark path towards addiction. Sarah drifted off to sleep; she slept well these days and while she slept, Dr Bhatti was on the phone to Edna Sullivan talking about her daughters release date. “She has made excellent progress, phenomenal in fact and we are all very pleased with her.” The doctor remained convinced that with a little help at home and with friendly faces around her, Sarah's recovery would be complete and she would be able to integrate back into society to resume her former life, perhaps regaining some of the teenage years she had lost
Miserable city with its dull dark tones
No one can see passed the filth and the lies
People crouching in damp dark corners
To hide from the truth, and empty cries of helplessness
Following the discovery of Jenkins guilt and with the new evidence from Marks computer, Jack Twford decided it was time to take D. S. Tatton into his confidence. Some of the initials on the 'family tree' were easy for Jack to work out J.F. was indeed Jack Forman P.J, Pete Jenkins J.S. was rather puzzling, and he spent hours playing around with anagrams and randomising the numbers that were listed but still could not get anything to make sense. It was Derrick; still reeling from all Jack had told him who came up with some answers. “The dealer who we found with overdose his name was John Simmons”
“J.S.” Jack replied, “Possible, but I don’t think so somehow. Our investigations have been turning up a much more interesting array of names” He handed a piece of paper to the Detective Super. “I fancy these men are the top brass, just a hunch, but I would value your input.” He handed the list of names over to Derrick, then passed Marks list of initials and numbers.
“These don’t mean a thing to me” he said
“Absolutely positive Derrick, nothing at all?”
“Well one of these numbers is my wedding anniversary|” the D.S. chuckled
“Be Serious please, Derrick, anything at all?”
“Well that’s Charlie Cooks old call sign he said pointing to two digits on the sheet “CC” Jack shouted almost loud enough for anyone listening to hear.
“No not the Chief Inspector?”
“Why not you said yourself they appeared to know your every move. You thought they were being tipped off remember?”
“That could have been Jenkins”
“No, far too risky, Jenkins has been playing his cards very, close to his chest. What about this” Jack pointed to the bottom of the sheet where he had written down the phone number that Mark had discovered within the figures. “Mean anything to you?”
“Nope could be anyone’s mobile”
“Do you know Charlie Cooks number?”
“God no! Not his mobile, what, phone the Chief Inspector at home you must be joking”
“It could be his then?”
“Suppose” Derrick was beginning to become wary of any involvement in the scheme of things. He considered himself too close to retirement and his pension to start rattling cages “Look this too big for me Jack How are we gonna handle it?”
“I've already called in C5, they are tailing Jenkins as we speak” Jack added
“What about the Sands murder, if indeed it was murder” D.S. Tatton was no longer sure about anything anymore. This case was starting to get to him
“I think it probably was murder. We think J.S. was Jonathon Sands”
“The brother?”
“That’s the man, my boys have been very busy; it appears Michaels’ brother was in Columbia. At the last report we have of him he was working for the foreign office or some such Government department out there. It was always assumed rebels killed him, there's a lot of unrest in that part of the world”
Derrick listened intently as Jack continued, “We now think he was mixed up in drug running. We have had unconfirmed reports of him in Chile. I think he was the bookkeeper, the accountant, possibly even more than that. It is likely he arranged the couriers; he would certainly have had the contacts in South America which would have made him very useful indeed to the likes of drug barons in Europe and the UK.” “Like our Mr Forman you mean?” Derrick smiled; he always knew something was very wrong with Jack Forman's place. He had always had his suspicions and was pleased his instinct was justified. “But if what you say is true then why kill him? It doesn’t make any sense”
“That I don't know yet. Possibly panic, Jack Forman wanted a clean quick break, who knows”
“We got nothing on the file. I can’t even build a case against the carer because the place was so clean, smacks of professionalism”
“And the old man been chasing you for results yes, been there before Derrick it goes with the territory. Shitty this job innit? Well take it from me, it was professional, probably your man Jenkins.”
“Jenkins?” the Superintendent interrupted Jack in full flow
“Just a hunch, no proof but that’s not stopped us in the past eh?” Derrick knew only too well the value of a policeman's hunch. His middle name was 'Hunchback'.
“What about the computer that was a bit careless of them”
“My guess is that Jenkins swapped it, the one your boys are taking apart is totally clean. He probably traded it in and didn't expect the other one to turn up so close to home and even if it did he thought he had deleted the file. That young Mark Hero found it in the Recycle Bin and cracked the password. Bit of luck really, trial and error as they say but we all need a break now and then”
“Still very careless of Jenkins if it was him, very sloppy. Are C5 pulling him?” D.S.Tatton asked
“No, not just yet we need to see how deep this thing goes. I’ve got so close to Forman I don't want to lose him now. I need something concrete. Got to make it stick this time”
“What about that fire at the factory, very convenient for you, anything to do with you was it?” Derrick smiled at his colleague
“It wasn’t that convenient at the time Jack Forman kept all his important stuff in his brief case and he was out that day, but no, just for the record, I didn’t start it. Pure accident” Jack replied
“Okay I believe you. We found his car by the way,” Derrick continued
“Where?”
“Hilton Park, Services on the Southbound he’s got a lock up garage there”
“Then check all the airports in the north, Manchester, Leeds even Aberdeen. Get his description circulating through Interpol. If Jack Forman left his beloved Merc., you can bet your last pound he would have had another motor waiting, and I'd stake my life on the fact it would be on the other side and he’ll be travelling in the opposite direction.” Jack added, “What about Hertz or Avis have you checked them out?”
“Not yet I’ll get on to it. What about Jenkins, won’t it be a bit awkward? What do you want me to do” Derrick asked
“Do nothing try not to alarm him, we’ve got him on possession and dealing we might yet be able to pin something else on him. Murder would be good” Derrick smiled at Jack- who continued with a serious look on his face .Keep in touch, use this number; it’s secure” Sgt. Twford handed Derrick a plain white card with a telephone number printed on it, Derrick entered the number on his mobile and handed the card back to Jack.
“What’s the story on the carer? I’ve been reading all about this Mrs Lucy Simpson Jack Twford asked
“I thought originally she was involved, her statement was all lies, from our point of view, but the docs put her in the clear. Now we know it was not Michael Sands she was working for she is out the picture,” Derrick replied
“Unless she thought he was Michael along?”
“Yes its possible. I have considered that.” Derrick answered
“Assuming this Michael was Jonathon all along why would want to marry Mrs Simpson anyhow?”
“Ah that one’s easy, oldest motive in the book. He wanted the rest of the inheritance, needed to be married to qualify” Derrick replied “seems he got greedy”
“That gives the carer a motive for murder too then, if she knew about it,” Jack observed
“Exactly my line, you’re bang on with your analysis Jack”
“Look” Detective Twford continued, “Keep her in the frame as long as you can will you?” Jack smiled and he looked over the top of his cappuccino at Derrick's tired eyes.
“That won't be easy, she's got a good brief, I know him, Fulchard; I even sent him the prelim reports. Thought I might get a quick confession”
“I’m sure you'll think of something to stall him just till I get more info on our friend Jonathon, I’ve got my lot working on it now.”
“You definitely think the body is his then” D.S. Tatton queried
“Yeah, it all fits the initials on the computer; opportunity, if he returned to Britain he would need a new identity. His brother provided it”
“But to kill your own brother!” Derrick was still not convinced
“We don't know yet what happened or how close they were as brothers. Look I have to shoot off now. Let me know if anything turns up, I should know about. I’ll get my team to work some more on the numbers and initials on that damn tree.
Velvet sun that sheds its light over the green lawns of life
There's always one corner that remains in darkness
Always one that stays in the night
Mark threw himself vigorously into his new work with the council. Rows and rows of figures came up on the screen before him like neon lights; he thought the whole scheme a waste of time and money but obviously said nothing. Pound signs flashing up and down buildings in the city centre were to be the city’s jewel in the crown. The Council was drawn from the same clientele as magistrates and the individuals who serve on our wonderful British juries: the unemployed and the unemployable (the sick, the lame and the remnants of the Women’s Knitting Circle) Chesford was particularly blessed with several 'bright young,' councillors, some of whom could even speak English. Johnny, Marks dad had always said that the very fact that a man wants to be a local councillor should automatically bar him from ever being one. Mark wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.
Reasonably, content with his lot, Mark tended to ignore the politics and concentrate on the pragmatic he was not one to be intimidated by regular meetings with the Finance Committee. He considered the Venus Flytrap on his desk to have more intelligence and knew that all he had to do was produce a report with a few figures and graphs, recommending, exactly what they wanted, and they would all nod approvingly like the toy dogs on parcel shelves of cars. If the reader thinks I am being a little hard on the fine upstanding burgers of Chesford, you should remember, that these very same elected officials are responsible for the warm welcome the city gives to its’ visitors; like Bob Simpson. It was just a job to Mark. He had meant what he had set out in his letter to Sarah though; they would marry and then certainly move away. Chesford was beginning to etch itself into his bones with its stench of corruption and incompetence. (Although it is just possible, that Mark misinterpreted the smell of urine on the city streets)
Sarah Jane was looking forward to her release, and if that makes it sound more like a prison than a clinic then that is because in some ways it was. Sarah certainly viewed the tight security that way. She was eating heartily now and Edna had already, arranged with Mark about fetching Sarah home, following her conversation with Dr Bhatti.
“I’ll hire a car Mrs S if I can’t get a lift organised. I can’t ask Larry again. -he was very good last time. Mark had said
“That will nice” Edna replied, “If you do hire one can I come up with you?”
“Course you can” Edna had warmed to Mark since Sarah's troubles, even to the idea of marriage. She was not keen on the idea of them moving away but realised Sarah would soon be eighteen and able to do as she wished. Like most mothers, she just wanted the best for daughter and no man would really be good enough or in Edna's case Catholic enough.
…………………………………………………………..
The police did not release the news about the body at Pitchers Gardens to the press. They thought it too early, as they did not yet have formal identification. Detective Superintendent Tatton was acting best he could on Jacks advice trying to keep Lucy Simpson in the picture so as not to alert Jenkins. He knew. However, the situation could last only a few days. The initials on the computer plan signalled Jonathon Sands and he had already asked his team to check on the movements of Jonathon through various government channels. He had had some feedback from Jack; the last posting of Mr Sands had been in Argentina some eighteen months ago, and after that, he seems to disappear. Official records show him as missing, but nothing ever made the press. Still, that was not unusual with the Foreign Office. Many people went missing in that particular part of the world. Jacks theory was that he had gone over the border into Chile or Columbia and with the help of his contacts slipped out of South America and unnoticed into the UK to take his brothers identity. Derrick thought it unlikely that someone could get into the country unnoticed until Jack reminded him of the open door Immigration policy that the government pursued. Tracing precise movements for Jonathon Sands proved impossible and the theory fitted the facts such as they were. The problem for D.S. Tatton was that he now had to find Michaels Sands. Did his brother kill him? If so why? or had he just 'disappeared' as well.
D.S. Tatton phoned Jack Twford to tell him he was authorising a search of the back garden of the bungalow. He knew the story would break soon anyway; Jenkins had a tail and was probably aware of the situation by now so he saw no point in working blind any longer.
When Lucy heard the rumours that the body at the bungalow was not that of Michael Sands she broke down in tears, she did not know what to make of it. Despite protests from Angus Fulchard, the police however would not drop the charges against his client. Derrick told them nothing of his inquiries and stuck to the official line that if Lucy thought it was Michael then the previous story still stood, and the case against her was not substantially altered. He knew in reality, that his case was weak and growing weaker by the day.
The police did manage some progress in the main investigation. An abandoned Jaguar turned up at Harwich although it was several weeks before any connection was made to Jack Forman by the time the car hire company had discovered the loss and the paperwork had been filled out, photocopied and indexed, Jack Twford got the message too late. He did despatch two men to interview ferry staff armed with a photograph and description of the Fat Man but they were unable to obtain any useful information.