The Sweet Smell of Rain

CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The limited amount of sleep that Hodder had been having recently had been more akin to an alcohol induced coma than the actual rest that he really needed. The consequence of this erratic lifestyle, was that he ‘woke up’ tired, and remained tired until he started the whole sorry cyclical process again. This was not, he assured himself, the routine that a ‘life coach’ or nutritionist would advise him to follow. For reasons not entirely clear to himself, he felt that on his first night back home albeit alone, that it was somehow inappropriate to drink, even though he felt that he was depriving himself of at least one of his ‘five a day’.

  His inner, more honest self, with whom he only had a fleeting relationship, would have suggested that he was keeping the place ‘pure’ for the eventual return of Grace and Lauren after the traumatic events of recent days. So, for the first time in a very long time, Hodder went to bed sober, and, as if by magic he woke up sober. He was alert and refreshed, and most ‘un-Hodder-like’ he was looking forward to the day ahead or, was it the prospect of the evening ahead when he would attempt to resurrect what remained of the nucleus of his family.

  Notwithstanding, when Baxter arrived to pick him up at 8.30am he had a renewed sense of purpose and even managed a chirpy ‘Good Morning’ to his younger colleague. Inwardly, Baxter was worried because he knew that this would not last and that there would be tears, but, for now he would just go with the flow.

  When they arrived at the office the D.I. was saying to ‘Gee-Gee’ …’Where is the fucking car? You told me that you were going to collect it…what are workshops doing with it?...you said it was only a minor problem…we have a fucking investigation to run’.

  For a man steeped in such false confidence and bravado it brought joy to the heart of Baxter as he watched ‘Gee-Gee’ squirm….’Err, I’ll sort it Boss, Err, not a problem Boss, consider it done Boss, I’ll get onto them straight away’.

  ‘Oh no you won’t’ thought Baxter…’But just keep on digging a hole for yourself’.

  Completely oblivious to the real reason why the car had not been returned, Hodder piped up and said…’Jeff and I have a few enquiries to make not far from the workshops we can collect it for you no problem…Give them a ring ‘Gee-Gee’ tell them that we will be up about 11.00 am’.

  Sensing some fun Baxter chipped in…’Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem…is that okay…do you want the car back here Boss’?

 

  The D.I. intervened ‘Thanks Jim… and looking at ‘Gee-Gee said ‘That’s team work for you’.

  At this point in time, if ‘Gee-Gee’ had of been armed with a gun he would have shot Baxter and then turned the weapon on himself, but given the sort of day he was having, he would probably have missed both targets. When the D.I. left the office Baxter sidled over to ‘Gee-Gee’ and said quietly ‘Hope you brought your credit card with you today mate…looks like you are in for an expensive day. You are running out of time and the D.I. is running out of patience’….He walked away because despite his obvious enjoyment, he did not wish to see a grown man cry.

  This incident did however, confirm one thing, namely the theory proffered by Detective Sergeant Jim Hodder…i.e. the D.I. really was stupid. However, on this occasion Hodder did not know that he had unwittingly proven his own theory. Baxter would have to tell Hodder about the car…he (Hodder) was obviously in such a good mood, that it would be a shame to deprive him of the opportunity to have some fun, particularly at the expense of ‘Gee-Gee’.

  Baxter was slowly coming to terms with the fact that if the police service is really good at one thing, that is kicking the shit out of colleagues when they are really down on their luck.

  Hodder and Baxter went through copious amounts of meaningless emails returned a few calls regarding unrelated matters and after coffee, decided to make a plan for the day. Well Jim…I’ve checked the cell block nothing for us to worry about…so do you have anything in mind ’?

  ‘I’m going to call Grace later on and tell her that it’s okay to return home and then ask her to return home. I really do think that despite what has happened that home really is the best place for Lauren and her. So, if you don’t mind…I may have to take her car to her mother’s house…is that okay’?

  ‘You’re the Sergeant Sergeant…it would be a bad day indeed if we let a little bit of police work get in the way of our private lives’’ said Baxter with a sly smile…Hodder took this as an unconditional agreement…

  Hodder went onto say ‘Then we can collect the car from Workshops and if after lunch should you so desire there is the small matter of executing the warrant at David Palma’s place…does that sound good to you my young crime fighting friend’?

  ‘This won’t last…he is in too good a mood’ thought Baxter…’but I’ll enjoy it whilst it does last’! Baxter leaned towards Hodder and said ‘I need to talk to you about that’…Hodder looked at him with a confused expression on his face and for once, demonstrating the stupidity of ‘Gee-Gee’, if not quite that of the D.I. he said ‘But you told me that you had the warrant’.

  Keeping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper Baxter said ‘No. Not that…the car. I’ll tell you later…you will have a field day…this is right up your street’.

  Hodder indicated to Baxter that he had some paperwork to do, and that he would be an hour or so. Now, if nothing else, Baxter was always a man to show initiative when it really mattered, and he suggested that he may visit the hospital. ‘To see if Sykes’ attitude towards the police had softened’.

  ‘Oh yeah’? questioned Hodder and with a knowing smile, continued ‘Good idea. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone’ he said with a wink.

  Baxter left the office and headed for the General Hospital and having parked up correctly, he broke out into a broad grin when he passed the ‘Emergency Vehicles Only’ parking bay. So, in order of priority for Baxter it was: Ward 7 to see Hannah to see that smile and hear that voice. Secondly, to check on Sykes…experience had taught Baxter that a few hours of isolated thought can do wonders…hopefully Sykes may, in light of the demise of his drinking buddy have decided to reveal the source of his sauce.

  Once on the ward, Hannah was alone at the Nurse’s Station and instantly upon seeing Baxter she broke into a warm glowing smile, ’So far so good’ thought Baxter. She did not know if she was being watched or overheard by a colleague so she said with an air of ‘mock officialdom’…’Oh good morning D.C. Baxter how nice to see you again…how can I help you’?....

  ’If you keep doing this to me’ thought Baxter ‘I will soon be beyond help’.

  ‘It’s very nice to see you again Staff Nurse White…and how are you today’?

  ‘Looking forward to a cosy night in tonight….if you know what I mean…what are your plans tonight officer’? With that she got up came around to the public side of the counter and said in a tone in which she would certainly not speak to a colleague or a patient ‘I take that you are here to see Mr Sykes’. She then bent forward to pick up a file from the desk and as she did so, she ran her hand up Baxter’s inner thigh sending a sensual tingle to the nerve centre of his groin.

  She whispered 7.30 my place, Sauvignon Blanc.

  ‘My God’ thought Baxter ‘Things like this do not happen to me’.

  ‘My pleasure Staff Nurse…anything to encourage the public services to work together in close harmony’.

  ‘Oh I’m sure we will be able to achieve that D.C. Baxter’ she said. He wanted to kiss her there and then but, there is a time and place for everything. ‘Fuck it’ he thought, and kissed her lips.

  She stood back in mock horror ‘Unhand me sir…what sort of woman do you take me for?…Oh yeah, don’t forget your toothbrush’.

  Getting serious she said ‘Sykes discharged himself just after breakfast. I tried to talk him out of it and asked him to wait for the Doctor to complete his rounds, but he said he was leaving. Naturally, I made him sign the discharge form…I’m sorry but I am the only nurse on duty,
believe me if there had only been an Agency Nurse on you would not have a signed form and the first that we would have known about Sykes being gone was his empty bed or his uneaten lunch. Sorry, I did not have time to call you’.

  ‘Hey don’t worry, if I had to eat hospital food I would have done a runner too. Sadly, he’s not the first and he won’t be…well, you know the rest…saves me having to come up here anyway and deal with the staff…I find that I’m being constantly sexually harassed by one in particular. The thing is I don’t even know his name’!

  They both burst out laughing…Baxter said ‘I’ve got a job on this afternoon, if there is any chance of me being late I will let you know…but I will definitely be there’…he squeezed her hand gently and left the ward, only then realising that she had been holding a mucous stained dressing in her hand.

  Baxter was walking with ‘wings on his heels’ feeling like the ‘King of the World’ as he made his way to his next ‘port of call’ a ‘Porta-cabin’ located to the north of the main hospital building. He knocked on the door and entered. He was delighted to see the person inside.

  Back at the office, Hodder was putting the finishing touches to a report for ‘Personnel’ regarding the incident at his home. Unfortunately, from his point of view, he was obliged to submit a report but, in true ‘Hodder-esque’ style it would be short on detail, culminating with the declaration that he did not require the services of the Welfare Department or the ‘Force Shrink’.

  Baxter returned a few minutes later telling Hodder that Sykes had ‘done a runner’ from the hospital…’Don’t worry, he won’t go far…I’ll bet that he is in the ‘Bottom Dolphin’ right now. The ‘Bottom Dolphin’ is an old style fisherman’s pub on North Shields Fish Quay. It rarely closes, for years having had a special exemption on its licence to accommodate the customers at the overnight fish markets…long since gone, but hey ho, old habits die hard.

  It would have been unwise for two suit wearing Detectives to go there without good reason, so Hodder rang the uniform inspector and asked if he would send a couple of his staff to the pub for a walk through just to check if Sykes was there. Hodder did not want him detained, he just wanted to know if he was there. If necessary, Baxter and Hodder could pick him up on the street later on, though in truth, he had not done anything wrong other than take up a bed and waste the time of the hospital staff.

  The briefing in the incident room, regarding the events at Hodder’s home, was now finished and as usual, he was being kept in the dark. ‘Gee-Gee’ was sitting at his desk feigning activity, but listening intently as Baxter said ‘Hey Jim, have you seen the time? We should go and get that car for the D.I.’.

  Baxter was learning by the second…he looked at ‘Gee-Gee’ and smiled at him. Years of watching the Premier League had taught Baxter the rudiments of lip reading and ‘Gee-Gee’ mouthed the word, euphemistically described in the media as the ‘C word’. Do the media really think that grandmas’, nuns’ and members of the W.I. all over the country, don’t have the word ‘Cunt’ going through their heads at that point?

  Was this is... thought control on an entirely cynical level?

  Baxter laughed at ‘Gee-Gee’, and oblivious to this, Hodder picked up his jacket swung it over his shoulder and said ‘Come on Jeff, let me introduce you to the concept of police work’. They left the office, to the sound of Hodder’s tuneless whistling.

  Once in the car, Baxter just had to tell Hodder all about the incident at the hospital car park and that ‘Gee-Gee’ did not have the cash to get the car out of the compound and that he (Baxter) had been just ‘winding up’ ‘Gee-Gee’ who could not tell the D.I. what had really happened.

  ‘Do you know’ said Hodder seriously, ‘You have been working with me too long…We can have some great fun with this…

  ‘I have an idea’…chipped in Baxter ‘It will be a great laugh…come with me I will introduce you to someone’.

  A few minutes later, Hodder and Baxter were standing in the Security Porta-cabin at the General Hospital speaking to Danny Steel, the Security Guard/Car Park Warden who had had the ‘run in’ with ‘Gee-Gee’ over the car. Hodder apologised and explained that as ‘Gee-Gee’s’ immediate supervisor he was appalled by his conduct and assured Steel that he would be dealt with in the most appropriate manner. Naturally, he would have to examine all of the available video evidence and there was however, the small matter of securing the release of the vehicle.

  ‘Let’s face it’ said Jim ‘we are all in this together and if you could see your way to easing the way for us to get our car back without the need for too much red tape, then, not only will I personally be very appreciative, but I can assure you that you have my personal guarantee that should you ever require any assistance in any way whatsoever, then all you have to do is call me. Here is my business card’.

  This seemed to do the trick. Hodder had always found that those ‘lower down the food chain’ who wore uniforms, secretly harnessed a desire to be part of a mainstream uniform service and by flattering Steel to such an extent, and massaging his ego, Hodder knew that the release of the car was just minutes away. Yet another curious aspect of ‘uniform carriers’ is that they too, like to flex a little bit of muscle, and Hodder was not surprised when Steel said ‘I will see what I can do’….he then went to a small side office where he pretended to make a phone call ‘To the big boss’.

  Predictably, he came back a few minutes later, with a dvd and a piece of paper in his hand, saying ‘Well, I had to call in few favours to do it, but, take this release form to the compound at Killingworth and you will get your car’.

  I can’t thank you enough said Hodder…and remember stay in touch if I can help you with anything, anytime.’ They shook hands and left.

  Once outside the Porta-cabin Baxter said ‘Are you totally mad…you gave him your card…an idiot like him will never be off the phone’.

  ‘I know’ said Hodder ‘that’s why I gave him ‘Gee-Gee’s’ card…now have you got the keys for the car?...this is not over by a long shot…the fun is only just beginning’.

  Hodder told Baxter that he had an enquiry at a scrap yard at Moorside. This oil soaked blot on the landscape, was located along a winding country road just outside the village of Earsdon.

  Leaving Baxter in the car, Hodder negotiated his way amongst the debris, potholes and petrol filled puddles. This was a guaranteed way to ruin your shoes so Baxter was pleased when he was not invited into the yard. This may have been one of the many clandestine contacts that Hodder had developed over the years, but Baxter would only ask questions if Hodder mentioned what he was doing there.

  Hodder returned several minutes later and placed a small box in the boot of the car. ‘This looks dodgy…best not ask’ thought Baxter. Hodder was equally silent about the purpose of his visit.

  About an hour later, Hodder and Baxter walked into the office. Baxter dropped of the keys for the C.I.D. on ‘Gee-Gee’s’ desk…a look of incredulity spread over his face. They left the office without saying a word…but ‘Gee-Gee’ must have heard their laughter as they walked down the corridor and out of the building.

  ‘So then’ said Hodder ‘Have you got the Warrant for Palma’s place’?

  ‘I certainly have Sergeant’.

  ‘Then how a bit of police work’ said Hodder as they set off for ‘Friardene Farm’.

  ‘Friardene Farm’ is located on the same road as the ‘Beehive’ pub, where Hodder had to been forced to come ‘clean-ish’ with Baxter regarding the recordings on his digital recorder, and strange as it may seem, this road is known locally as ‘The Beehive Road’.

  This road is a twisting, turning nightmare, of only about three miles long. Statistically, must be one of the most dangerous roads in the county. Collisions are very common, fatalities thankfully less so, but not unknown. It seems that drivers were oblivious to the speed limit despite the obvious dangers.

  The entrance to the farm is located on the right side of a bl
ind left hand turn and it is something of a lottery to negotiate it safely. The farm stands in isolation and is reached by a single track road, all visitors being clearly visible for at least half a mile before they reach the actual buildings. With that in mind, Hodder and Baxter decided to park their car in a layby about quarter of a mile away, and approach the farm on foot. The area, including the farmland itself, is ‘riddled’ with public footpaths and as such, walkers on the land draw far less suspicion than vehicles.

  The farm is essentially a small holding on open land comprising a main farmhouse, two small cottages and a cluster of barns and outhouses some of which are let out on a commercial basis. As they walked into the deserted farmyard, the immediate problem facing Hodder and Baxter was to determine which unit was occupied by David Palma. Though it was quite vague in its wording, the warrant only authorised entry into that part of the property occupied by Palma and could not in all conscience, be used as a means to conduct a fishing expedition over the entire farm, and quite rightly so.

  Suddenly a woman’s voice shouted out ‘What the bloody hell do you want’?

  Startled, Hodder looked around and saw that a rotund elderly woman in wellington boots was walking out of a large open barn. She was carrying a number of Sainsbury’s bags and had a Jack Russell snapping at her heels.

 

  She walked directly towards the officers’ and said with an air of indignation…’Well, what do you want’? Hodder was not keen to introduce himself as a Police Officer but said that he had arranged to meet Mr Palma….’Dave’ at his rented unit but unfortunately he could not find it.

  ‘That’ll be the young lad with the white Transit’?

  ‘That’s him’ replied Hodder, hoping against hope that he was correct.

  ‘Go outside the main farmyard, he is upstairs in the first barn on your right…tell him his rent is due’…and with that, she and the Jack Russell turned on their six heels and headed off towards the main farm house.

  The main door to the barn was open and as they made their way up the creaking stairs towards Palma’s ‘lock up’ they were unsure if Palma was there, or what if anything, they would find inside the premises. The door was locked, and Hodder was contemplating forcing it with the jemmy that he had concealed down his jacket sleeve, when he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. He then heard the sound of a heavy metal door being slammed and concluded that a van, hopefully, Palma’s Transit had just arrived.

  Both he and Baxter stood back in the shadows as they heard someone breathing heavily coming up the stairs. This was going far better than he had anticipated. Suddenly, there was Palma in all of his asthmatic glory carrying a couple of heavy boxes which he had to lay down on the landing before getting some keys from his pocket. Once the door was open, he turned around to see Hodder and Baxter standing with the boxes at their feet.

  Hodder said ‘Hi Dave…business good’.

  ‘What the fuck do you want’?

  ‘Well, by a strange quirk of fate that rather depends on what you have got inside…can we come in’?

  ‘Fuck Off and get a warrant’.

  ‘Well we anticipated that you may say that, so, the kindly Magistrates of North Tyneside were good enough to grant us one, which, as if by pure magic my glamorous assistant here will now produce …so we are coming in whether you like it or not …now get your fucking arse inside there now.

  Palma fumbled with the lock, and once they were all inside, Baxter closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, just in case Palma developed a sudden case of claustrophobia and felt the need to experience the great outdoors. In actual fact, Baxter probably got the better of the deal because the way the old wooden floor creaked and groaned under the weight of Palma and Hodder he felt much safer staying where he was.

 

  The loft, for that is what it was, was illuminated by a single bulb swinging from an old fibrous flex that looked likely to burst into flames at any second. There were a number of windows along the left hand wall at about shoulder height and stacked under the windows were dozens of boxes of ‘Snirmov’ Vodka made for all the world at first glance to look like genuine ‘Smirnoff’ Vodka.

  Hodder said ‘Ah David, going into the liqueur trade are we’?

  ‘I’m just looking after then for someone’.

  ‘And who would that be’?

  ‘He didn’t give his name’.

  ‘No worries’ said Hodder, ‘he can always collect them from the nick’

  Further along the wall were numerous boxes of ‘Turner’ hand rolling tobacco. ‘And you’re a tobacconist too? Is there no limit to your entrepreneurial skills’? said Hodder.

  ‘Not my stuff either…told you’.

  Hodder then turned his attention to the two boxes that Palma had been carrying when he arrived….they too were branded as ‘Snirmov’ Vodka. Bingo!

  ‘What else is here…this place is going to get pulled apart by a search team so you may as well tell me now’.

  A look of benign resignation spread across Palma’s face…’There are a few phones in a box over there but all this stuff belongs to the same bloke’.

  Hodder asked Baxter to contact the office and arrange for a search team and SOCO to come to the farm.

  Turning to Palma he said ‘Dave? Do you ever watch the telly’?

  ’Yeah of course I do’…

  ’Well’, said Hodder, ‘you know that stuff about cautions and not having to say anything…yeah?

  ‘Well that is good news is that we have a special offer on today and even that applies to you too. However, the bad news is that you are locked up on suspicion of theft and handling stolen goods…do you understand’?

  ‘Yeah but…’

  ‘Oh, by the way’ said Hodder…’Your rent is overdue…the old woman at the farmhouse is going fucking nuts so you’re probably better off coming with us. Yeah, all things considered you will most definitely be safer with us…she sure as hell scared the shit out of me’.

  It seemed an age for three uniform guys to arrive in a van to conduct a thorough search of the loft. Hodder asked them to keep him informed of any developments, before Baxter went off to collect the C.I.D. car from the layby.

  He and Baxter then took Palma to North Shields Police Office where to use the appropriate jargon the circumstances of his arrest were relayed to the Custody Officer. He was searched and £1505 in cash was taken from him. He was then detained.

  In accordance with the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, detained persons are invited to nominate a solicitor of their choice to represent their interests whilst they are in custody and beyond if necessary.

  David Palma elected to be represented by Fagen Becker and Wendell and Francis Randall-Ord in particular.

  Hodder was delighted!

  Before interviews could commence all of the exhibits seized from Friardene Farm had to be catalogued. The property broadly fell into three categories 48 x Boxes of ‘Snirvovv’ Vodka, 200 x 50gram packs of Turners hand rolling tobacco and 17 x Samsung Galaxy S4 smart phones.

  This was a quite a haul, and Hodder felt reasonably confident that he would achieve his objectives during interview. However, unlike many officers Hodder did not use a formal ‘Interview Plan’, he considered these to be too restrictive, particularly when they had to be disclosed to the ‘other side’ and any variation from the plan usually drew criticism giving the opposition something to cling onto even when things were going against them.

  Another essential and little known tactic, was to allow the solicitor to see his client as soon as convenient after the arrest, but to delay the interview for as long as possible thus frustrating both brief and prisoner.

  This caused them to think that active enquiries were still being made i.e. that more and more evidence was being stacked up against the client, when in reality it just meant that the Officer in Charge was merely having an extended lunch break.

  The scene was then set in the interview room. Hodder and Baxter vers
us Palma and Randall-Ord. The interview ran its predictable boring course with Palma insisting that he was merely ‘looking after’ the property for someone whom for fear of reprisals he declined to name. When the questions got just a little too uncomfortable for Palma he retreated behind the ‘sanctuary’ of ‘No Reply’ before returning to the ‘just looking after the stuff’ theory.

  Hodder decided to change tack and he allowed Palma to think for a few minutes that he was actually ‘buying into’ Palmas’ explanation so, he just let Palma ‘ramble on’ telling provable lie after provable lie.

  This in itself did not prove the offence, but it did go a considerable way to destroying the integrity of the accused and casting doubt on any alibi that he may attempt to put forward now or in the future.

  Hodder said ‘Would you describe yourself as an honest or a dishonest person’?

  Palma lied and said ‘Of course I am honest’.

  With a playfully wicked, almost teasing glint in his eye Hodder said ‘Are you sure about that’?

  Palma could not reasonably respond with a ‘No Reply’, so he said ‘Yeah’…that was his first mistake.

  Hodder then picked up a printed copy of Palma’s previous convictions and said ‘For reasons of fairness to you, the following conversation will not be included in any transcription of this interview’.

  Hodder then read out a string of convictions dating back some fifteen years. The ‘Pre-Cons’ clearly showed that Palma had number of convictions for minor violence but it was the offences of dishonesty that most interested Hodder’.

  Hodder said ‘On 17 May 2001, you were convicted of Theft. On 28 August 2001, were convicted of Robbery. On 7 February 2002, you were convicted of an offence of Burglary. On 12 December 2003, you were convicted of three offences of Theft. Indeed between that date and today you have been convicted of a further six offences of Theft. Would you agree that these are your convictions’?

  ‘Yes’. That was his second mistake.

  ‘Would you agree that these are offences of dishonesty’?

  ‘Yes’. That was his third mistake.

  Palma’s head was beginning to drop, Randall-Ord was apoplectic but said nothing…he knew that Hodder would not transcribe this part of the interview.

  That very point was again reiterated by Hodder.

  However, he too was fooled when Hodder said ‘So, David, would you describe yourself as an honest person…’?

  Palma fell right into the trap and said ‘No, I’m not’…Hodder would however, transcribe that answer and had done so on countless previous occasions with great success.

  When it appeared that Palma’s resistance was being to wane, Hodder dropped a bombshell….’You really should consider your position because it would appear that your outstanding rent on the barn may not be your only imminent bill…Her Majesties’ Revenue and Customs are very interested in talking to you about unpaid duty on all the booze and the tobacco and enquiries to establish the origin of those phones continue as we speak’.

  ‘Granted, Dave, I accept that it will not run into millions but it’s another headache that you could do without…then there is the matter of Trading Standards who want to talk to you about the snide Vodka…so, you see this is not going away anytime soon’. The solicitor was frantically making notes but remained silent…he knew that there was more to come…the problem was that he did not know what it was, but knowing Hodder as he did, he suspected the worst.

  Then surprisingly, Hodder halted the interview on the premise of giving Palma a comfort break. The truth of the matter was that Palma’s comfort was the last thing on his mind…he just wanted Palma and Randall-Ord to ‘stew’ for a while and this was as good a tactic as any…the thought of other ‘enforcement agencies’ showing an interest in Palma would eventually wear him down.

  In the meantime, Hodder was going to seek authority to search Palma’s home and it would be an added bonus if he recovered more evidence there. Anything at all to pile the pressure on.

  As he returned Palma to his cell, he casually mentioned that he was going to search his home for evidence of this and other offences. Palma was rather too eager to assure Hodder that he was wasting his time, which actually told Hodder that it would be anything other than a waste of time.

  Meanwhile, Randall-Ord was asked to sit in the public foyer…this always infuriated solicitors, many of whom treated the Custody Suite as an extension of their own offices. The thought of sitting with the ‘Plebs’ really did not appeal, and most were known to leave and go back to their office after a few minutes of being constantly badgered by drunks, waifs, strays, loonies and dissatisfied clients.

  Hodder then took a walk outside the police office and strolled around the car park steeling himself for the call that he was about to make to Grace. He stared mindlessly at the mobile in his hand as if willing himself the courage to call his wife. He just hoped that she was alone and able to talk without the inevitable interference from her mother who was doubtless delighted that she may have been proven right regarding Hodder’s reckless attitude and wayward ways.

  He dialled. The phone rang Grace answered immediately. After some sheepish, hesitant strained conversation he made his ‘big play’. ‘Will you and Lauren please come home…I’ve had the place cleaned up…hopefully there no signs of what happened…please come home. I miss you both…I really need you’.

  Grace wasn’t going to make this easy for him, and why should she? She wanted to make sure that he really meant what he was saying…’There will be some conditions Jim’.

  ‘Anything. Anything you say…we can fix this…the sooner we get back to normal the better’.

  ‘Well, that’s the problem’ said Grace ‘you see Jim…I don’t want to go back to normal…you have got to change. You have got to start putting Lauren and I before your job and your mates at the nick’.

  ‘I will, it has taken this total nightmare for me to realise how far we have drifted and I have honestly thought that I may have lost you both’.

  Still intent on piling on the pressure Grace said ‘Lauren is sleeping at the moment. I don’t want to disturb her…I will see what she has to say when she wakes up…I will call you later’. With that she ended the call. The call had not gone exactly to plan, but at least they were talking and under the circumstances that was progress of sorts…he would just have to wait for Grace to call, but in the meantime he had Palma’s flat to ‘turn over’.

  With the appropriate authority secured, Baxter and Hodder set off for Hotspur Street in Tynemouth to search Palma’s flat which was located in a recent redevelopment on the site of the ‘Old Ringtons Tea’ factory.

  Something about this flat did not resonate…how did a self-confessed unemployed man afford to live in this relatively prosperous part of Tyneside and in comparative luxury?

  Once inside, the answer was obvious. The second, presumably spare bedroom, was full of boxes of the snide Vodka and tobacco. Palma was in far deeper than Hodder had suspected, and he was getting deeper by the second…he was going to have to come up with something better than ‘No Reply’ or a feeble excuse during the next interview.

  However, Hodder was not planning a ticker tape celebration just yet…he had the problem of proving a) where the stuff came from, b) who owned it, c) was it stolen and d) more importantly could this particular batch of Vodka be linked to the death of Tamblin.

  Hodder had decided to keep that particular ‘nugget’ i.e. news of the death of Tamblin from Palma until he was ready to do so. However, it seemed to him that the second interview was as good a time as any to attempt to implicate Palma in a death if the opportunity arose. Though rather cynically, even for Hodder, he was of the view that ‘no real harm had been done’…though he did regret that it looked like Katy had been an innocent victim of bootleggers, smugglers or counterfeiters, all of whom were only interested in profit at any cost.

  When Palma’s home had been thoroughly searched and photographed, the exhibits were seized and enter
ed through the POFP register at the office. Hodder knew that he had more to talk to Palma about but also that he was no nearer to discovering the origin of the goods. He did however, know that Palma was not a ‘big enough fish’ to be operating independently on this level and that the ‘bigger the fish’ that he was working for, then the less likely it was that he would grass them up…this was just the law of the jungle…’survival of the most violent’.

  As expected, Randall-Ord had become bored and left for his office telling Doug the Civilian General Office Assistant that he had better things to do than hang around a police station all day long. Given the level of abuse that Doug endured on a daily basis, he tended to agree and wished that he could have ‘jumped ship too’.

  When Hodder heard this he was delighted. He could either irritate Randall-Ord by calling him back for further interview or tell Palma that his solicitor had got bored and left. Of course, giving him (Palma) the impression that Randall-Ord would not be coming back under any circumstances would be highly unethical but hey ho…if Palma got the wrong end of the stick well, that was his look out.

  Palma, as is his right, insisted that Randall-Ord should return for the additional interviews. Predictably, Randall-Ord. was delighted, moaning endlessly to Doug who had been charged with the task of delivering the bad news…a classic case of killing the messenger…just one of the joys of being a G.O.A….you got shit from the police and just about everyone else. It is a thoroughly thankless task.

  It was now Randall-Ord’s turn to become obstructive, he was clearly in no mood to help the police expedite this enquiry. In truth the welfare of Palma was of no concern to him, he was just a meal ticket. To the casual observer it must appear to be quite baffling that the transient concept laughingly known as ‘Justice’ could somehow get lost amidst petty, childish squabbles between two of the most significant practitioners in the entire criminal justice system.

 

  When eventually the second interview did commence, Hodder led with a series of questions that seemed to have little or no significance to the enquiry. Palma was questioned about his movements and associations over the previous days. Hodder was hoping that when pressed for an alibi that Palma would mention either Sykes, Tamblin or Parks. When he did neither Hodder changed tack again and enquired into Palma’s employment history and financial standing.

  Palma conceded he had worked only on irregular basis since leaving school about ten years earlier.

  Hodder said ‘Do you have a bank account’?

  ‘Of course that’s how I get my benefits paid’

  ‘Why did you have in excess of £1500.00 on you in cash when you were arrested’?

  ‘I won it on a horse’.

  ‘What was its name’?

  ‘Can’t remember’.

  ‘Where was the race meeting’?

  ‘Can’t remember’.

 

  ‘Which bookies did you use…you will be on CCTV’.

  ‘Can’t remember’.

  ‘How much rent do you pay’?

  ‘I get Housing Benefit’

  ‘Who is your Landlord’?

  ‘I don’t know, I got my flat through an Estate Agent’.

  ‘Well that is interesting because when we searched your home I found a tenancy agreement between you and ‘North By North East Properties Ltd’

  ‘Do you know who owns that company?

  ‘I have no idea’.

  ‘Have you heard of Adrian Burrows’?

  ‘Not that I’m aware of’.

  ‘You may know him as First Aid’.

  ‘I don’t know him’.

  ‘Do you work for him’?

  ‘I don’t work. I am unemployed’.

  ‘Why would an unemployed man rent a barn loft on an isolated farm’? said Hodder

  ‘Can I have a word with my solicitor please’?

  The interview was terminated without Hodder introducing the subject of Tamblin…he could be saved (not literally) for later. To Hodder and Baxter this felt like progress. They may have been no closer to establishing who Palma was working for but it was satisfying to get so much ‘snide booze’ off the streets. Palma did not strike him as the sort of person who would ‘hawk’ the stuff round the pubs of the town. It was likely that he had ‘foot soldiers’ working for him.

  But wasn’t that just the way of business? Even sub-contractors sub-contract.

  Hodder was mindful that he had to get home at a reasonable hour to prepare the house in anticipation of Grace and Lauren coming back home. Baxter too, did not have the appetite for another long night, well, not at the police station anyway!

  Detained persons must (under normal circumstances) be released or charged within twenty four hours of arrest. However, PACE also states that they must also have eight hours uninterrupted sleep if they are detained overnight. Hodder decided to use this to his advantage. He told the Custody Officer that he had further enquiries to make and that he expected to be in a position to charge or bail Palma in the morning. Hence, Palma became the unwilling guest of Northumbria Police that evening.

  The Custody Officer informed Palma and Randall-Ord that he would be detained overnight pending the on-going investigation. Palma was furious.

  Randall-Ord was delighted too, it was, after all, ‘Lodge Night’.

  Whilst sitting at his desk Hodder’s mobile rang. It was Grace…the conversation was short and sweet ‘Jim, It’s me we will be home within the hour’…he hardly had time to mutter the word ‘Brilliant’ before the call was ended…even more progress! Great!

  Baxter completed the paperwork associated with the two searches before approaching Hodder and saying ‘What now’?

  ‘Well, its home for me and paradise for you…if anyone asks we have been trawling the pubs in search of snide booze…can you drop me off Grace and Lauren are coming back’.

  ‘No prob…give me five minutes okay’?

  Baxter used his five minutes wisely, he rang Hannah and said that he would be at her flat within twenty minutes…she responded by saying…’There is a clean dry towel waiting for you…be careful of the shower, it can get very hot’.

  She ended the call. Baxter exhaled deeply…gently and delightedly muttering the word ‘Wow’ under his breath.

  When Hodder was dropped off shortly afterwards, the house was still in darkness so he went inside showered, and set about making a chilli con carne for Grace and Lauren. There was wine in the house but despite his nerves he thought better of having a drink before ‘the girls’ came back.

  He was putting the finishing touches to the meal when he heard the front door open. He was delighted to see Grace and Lauren enter. He took their bags and fussed over them to the point of embarrassment. ‘Calm down Jim…we are pleased to be back too’. She pecked him on the cheek…’not all of the way there yet’ thought Hodder ‘but a definite improvement’.

  Lauren looked pale and drawn. He did not know if Grace had told her that she (Grace) and Hodder had some serious talking to do, but she said she was going to bed. At least they were back!

  The chilli could wait. Grace and Hodder sat in the lounge not really talking about ‘the incident’ but just reinforcing that despite some obvious flaws that they were stronger together and that things should and could definitely improve. Indeed, things must get better if only for Lauren’s sake. An indication of this improvement came when Grace went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine. Hodder stretched out and relaxed, for what felt like the first time in a long time. His feet up on the sofa, when he heard the doorbell sound. Grace cheerfully called out ‘I’ll get it’.

  ‘Life is good’ he thought.

  He heard muffled voices at the door and the obvious sound of Grace inviting someone into the house. Thinking himself selfish, the last thing Hodder wanted was for his peace to be disturbed. Grace then came into the lounge with a very familiar looking man and she said ‘Jim, This Mr Bostock. He is Katy’s grandfather’.

  Hodder gaped spe
echless.

  Just when things were getting back to normal it dawned on Hodder yet again that there is no situation that a Police Officer cannot make any worse!