Deadly Serious Page 3

  ‘The newspaper boy you call Jakes …’ He told the full story as briefly as he could, including the addition to the death column Margaret had seen, adding, ‘And then there were those you had already torn out, and you took one with you to … wherever you are.’

  The silence at the other end was leaden. Then Maddern cleared his throat, ‘I’m …’

  Cannon waited.

  ‘I …’ he began again, then the rest came with a rush, ‘could do with your help.’

  Cannon wanted to shout, ‘Hallelujah, at last’, but knew Maddern could just ring off if he said the wrong thing, upset the precarious balance between need and pride. ‘Tell me what you want me to do,’ Cannon said quietly.

  ‘I’m in Leicester,’ he said. ‘Katie’s at university here.’

  There was another silence while Cannon waited.

  ‘It’s a lot to explain on the phone,’ Maddern said, ‘but Katie was designated as the first to … to … go.’

  Die, Cannon silently substituted as Maddern was unable to say the word, and he remembered that night’s newspaper, which Maddern had not so far seen, the inserted drawing of a tombstone at the head of the deaths, with a No. 1 inscribed on it.

  ‘Leicester,’ Cannon said, calculating that he could be there in three hours or so. ‘Want me to come?’

  ‘Please,’ he said, and now Maddern’s voice did break.

  ‘Where shall I meet you?’

  ‘There’s a big concert hall near the university called the De Montfort Hall, I’ll be near the main gates.’

  ‘I’ll find it,’ Cannon said to a dead line.

  Three and a half hours later he was thanking technology for satnav as it directed him through a maze of one-way systems to a quieter street off a main thoroughfare. On one side were trees, the other a row of well-built three-storey houses: flats and offices Cannon thought. Then, wonder of wonder, as the upbeat voice announced he had reached his destination, he saw there was a car park immediately behind the trees, with no more than half a dozen cars parked there.

  Locking the classic red MG – Liz had volunteered her car as quicker than his ancient jeep – he realized that, behind the car park, there was an extensive green area. Then by the look of the rather monumental gates and railings at the end of the trees, the Hall itself lay slightly downhill from the road. He walked in that direction and was soon raising respectful eyebrows to the pillared and domed De Montfort Hall, surrounded by well-maintained lawns and flower beds, a proud addition to any city.

  The noise of the traffic on the main road was muted here, and it was dark except for the areas where Victorian lamp posts under-lit the still, leafless, spectral-looking, trees. He could neither see nor hear any other pedestrian. He checked his watch, 11.30 p.m. He wondered if he was later than Maddern expected, perhaps he should have phoned when he was nearly here. It hadn’t occurred to him, the meeting place was set, he had just been concentrating on arriving as soon as possible, but if Maddern did not show up in the next few minutes he would ring him.

  As he strolled back the way he had come there was a sudden eruption of sound as two police cars sped along the main road, sirens blaring, blue lights flashing. They retreated into the distance and went around the far side of the parkland, as far as he could judge. He reached into his pocket for his phone, but as he approached the red MG he saw a familiar figure beneath one of the lamps. He hurried forward.

  ‘Jim,’ he greeted, but had hardly done so when two further police cars swept from the main road and into the car park, screeched to a halt next to them, all four doors of both vehicles opened, and they were surrounded by police.

  ‘Just have a word,’ a sergeant detailed one man, before leading the rest through a small gate at the far end of the car lot into the park, where they spread out and began to run.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Maddern asked.

  ‘Could I ask you gentlemen how long you’ve been here?’ the constable, who Maddern would have made four of, asked.

  ‘We’ve not long arrived,’ Cannon said, ‘arranged to meet here, this is my car.’

  ‘I’ve walked up from the town,’ Maddern added. ‘My daughter is at the university.’

  ‘Did you arrange for your daughter to meet you here?’ The question had a sharper edge.

  ‘No,’ Maddern said, ‘but has something happened to a girl, a student?’

  ‘There’s been a disturbance at the other side of the park, that’s all we know.’

  ‘Four police cars? Maddern questioned.

  ‘I walked along by the hall and back,’ Cannon raised his voice to interrupt as he felt Maddern might lose caution and control, ‘and saw no one at all.’

  ‘Thank you,’ the constable nodded, and hurried after the other.

  ‘Four police cars,’ Maddern repeated.

  ‘Come on,’ Cannon said, unlocking the car, ‘we’ll drive to the other side of this park.’

  Cannon drove back to the main road, turned right, then right again, and they were in sight of the other two police cars. He drove past them and stopped in a side street. No sooner had they left the car than they saw extra police vehicles arriving, the largest a white van.

  ‘Is that Scene of Crime?’ Maddern gasped. The question was rhetorical as he began to run, though Cannon could see the police were ready to prevent the public entering the park. There was also a concentration of police further into the green area, just under a group of trees, where hand-held lamps pointed downwards. The lights were motionless, the men in yellow jackets stationary, between the trunks of the dark, stark, trees, and in the centre two of their number knelt by something – someone – who was very still.

  Maddern raised a dismissive hand at the police officer who confronted him. ‘I have a daughter here at the university,’ he said.

  ‘Thousands have daughters and sons here, sir.’ This constable was older, unperturbed. ‘I will have to ask you not to go further,’ and as he spoke men were bringing blue and white police tape, portable metal posts to hook it through, and rapidly segregating pavement from park.

  Maddern seemed about to argue, force his way through. Cannon gripped his arm, steadied him, then drew him away.

  ‘I need to know,’ he said.

  ‘You’re not going to be able to force your way across there,’ Cannon told him. ‘Do you know where Katie’s accommodation is?’ he asked. ‘Is it far away?’

  ‘A few minutes in a car,’ he said but was looking fixedly at the increasing police activity, white-suited figures joining the group beneath the trees, taking over.

  ‘Right, time to worry if she is not there,’ Cannon said. ‘Come on, I’ll need you to direct me.’

  The accommodation block looked new, huge, many storeys high.

  ‘Six hundred rooms,’ Maddern confirmed, ‘private development, university runs it. Had a look around about yesterday, security is good.’

  ‘You’ve not seen Katie so far?’

  ‘Only from a distance, it’s difficult,’ Maddern admitted, ‘and her mother will have …’

  ‘Told her you’re away on a course.’

  ‘I hope to God I’ve not left it too late, wasted a day, and that Katie …’

  Cannon refused to let him dwell on that prospect and led the way determinedly to the entrance to the tower block. ‘What do you propose to say?’ he asked, and when there was silence. ‘How about, you find yourself unexpectedly in the city, here only a few hours and would love to have the chance to see your daughter? We don’t need access to her room, just ask her if she would like to come down to have a word in the lobby.’

  They rang the bell at the entrance, then spoke into the slatted wall intercom; two minutes later two security men came out of the darkness and joined them outside.

  ‘My name’s Langton, I’m head of security. You’ve asked to see one of our students,’ the taller of the two said. Cannon wondered if he was a senior ex-police officer, he exuded that kind of authority.

  ‘My daughter. Katie Maddern,’ and he
repeated the story Cannon had just concocted, during which the other security man’s phone burbled. He turned away but it was clear to Cannon he was talking to another uniformed security man walking towards the doors inside. The conversation over, the man came back to Langton and said, ‘Dennis, the hall porter, suggests we ask the father what he does for a living.’

  Maddern produced his warrant card, and the mood relaxed.

  ‘Your daughter’s talked about you to Dennis.’ He nodded to the man in the lobby, who now pressed a button to open the doors.

  ‘You’ll be Police Sergeant Maddern, then,’ he greeted, ‘heard a lot about you.’

  ‘All good, I hope,’ Maddern gave the standard reply.

  ‘Surprised there’s no halo,’ the porter said with a grin. ‘Come on.’ He led the way back to desk and switchboard.

  Having relayed the message, he looked rather startled, said ‘but’ several times than held the receiver out to Maddern. ‘You’d better speak to her, convince her yourself. She seems to think it’s a hoax, another hoax, she said.’

  ‘Katie, it’s your dad, I’m …’

  All of the men in that quiet lobby heard her shout, ‘No! No! I don’t believe you!’ and the slam of the receiver.

  ‘Think we’d better go up there,’ Langton said. ‘There’s something wrong.’

  No one, Cannon thought, was referring to what might have happened in the park. Although these security men had arrived before he and Maddern had been admitted to the building he did not think they as yet knew much about the incident in the park, they had been too relaxed and affable, until Katie’s outburst.

  ‘She knows you, Dennis, you come,’ Langton ordered, and turning to his junior said, ‘You stay on the switchboard.’

  Cannon moved with Maddern towards the lifts and when the senior officer paused to question this, Maddern said, ‘He’s ex-Met and my friend.’

  ‘A lot of us ex’s about,’ he said and led the way into the lift.

  ‘It’s number 363,’ Maddern supplied as Dennis pressed the third-floor button.

  ‘We’ll keep this as quiet as possible,’ Langton said as they walked along the rather stark corridor. ‘We don’t want to alarm anyone else if we can help it,’ and as they arrived outside 363 he nodded to Dennis to take the lead.

  The porter bent close to the door and knocked gently. ‘It’s Dennis, Miss Maddern, will you come to the door?’

  Nothing. The very silence in the building seemed to intensify.

  ‘Look through your spy-hole at us,’ Dennis suggested.

  Dennis moved back a step so he could be clearly seen through the tiny fisheye lens. Cannon was unsure whether he heard a movement near the door.

  ‘Your father’s here, Sergeant Jim Maddern,’ Dennis said, and moved so that Maddern could take his place immediately in front of the lens.

  ‘John Cannon’s here with me, Katie,’ Maddern said and Cannon raised a hand.

  Then all eyes were on the door as the handle was depressed, then, slowly at first, the door opened, and Katie in pyjamas and dressing-gown stood open-mouthed, taking in the reality of who stood there.

  She appeared like someone in extreme shock, the shock Cannon had seen on the faces of those who had narrowly escaped violent death – and that thought gave him no comfort, as Katie, like someone walking in a nightmare, staggered into her father’s open arms.

  ‘Dad,’ she said, tears thickening her voice now, ‘I don’t understand. What’s happening?’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  They saw the fair head nod beneath Maddern’s chin.

  ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Tell me first why you’re so upset.’ Maddern stooped to kiss her cheek, but as the question was asked Cannon could see the answer.

  On the narrow bed was a large square box, and, as if just tipped from it, a circle of laurel with spring flowers, daffodils and snowdrops – a funeral wreath – a wreath made for a young person.

  ‘This came tonight,’ she said as all the men filed in, filled the space between bed and desk.

  ‘How did it come? Who delivered it?’ Langton wanted to know.

  ‘Not through me,’ Dennis denied.

  ‘A man gave it to my best friend here, Amy. He saw her outside, she said he was standing at the end of the roadway, and she saw him approach one or two people before he asked her.’ She paused to pick up the box, turned it over so they could all read the words ‘REED ST THOMAS’ printed in capital letters in black marker pen. ‘When Amy saw that she didn’t hesitate to bring it up to my room. She knows that’s where I live. I thought it was from home …’

  ‘Where is Amy now?’ Cannon asked and for the first time Katie really focussed on him.

  ‘Mr Cannon?’ she queried, ‘Amy?’

  ‘Yes, where is she now?’

  ‘She went after the man, I told her not to, but she said she was and she was going to report him to security, find out what it was all about. Amy’s like that.’

  ‘I saw no one hanging about,’ Dennis repeated, ‘no one at all, and nothing’s been reported about that.’ He nodded towards the wreath.

  Cannon was thinking of the figure prone between the trees. Maddern moved uneasily by his side and Langton’s phone rang.

  Chapter 4

  Langton turned from taking the call to nod his men towards the door, then said, ‘We’ll be back shortly, best if you all stay here.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay here,’ Katie stated with surprising force as the door closed. ‘Take me home, Dad, please.’

  Cannon remembered she had referred to another hoax. ‘What else has happened?’ he asked.

  ‘We just thought it was a mistake, but—’ she glanced at the wreath and shuddered. ‘There was a crowd of us outside and we all thought it was terrible at first, then someone began to snigger, and then everyone laughed about it. Amy directed them to a nearby estate,’ she paused to throw out a vague arm, ‘said there must be someone with the same name there.’

  ‘Who were they?’ her father interrupted.

  ‘It was a hearse,’ she said and as Maddern’s lips parted in shock she added, ‘Dad, I just need to see Amy then we could go.’

  Cannon prayed it would be that simple, but before Maddern could answer, his mobile jangled the beginning of a military march. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, put it rapidly to his ear. ‘Margaret?’ he questioned

  ‘Mum?’ Katie queried in a whisper. ‘Don’t tell her what’s happened on the phone, she’ll worry herself sick.’

  ‘Wait. Hold on,’ Maddern was saying, ‘slow down and stop apologizing.’

  As Maddern listened intently, Cannon heard someone approaching in the corridor, most likely the security men coming back. He caught Jim’s eye and gave the slightest warning nod towards the door.

  ‘Get dressed,’ Cannon whispered the advice to Katie, who nodded, swept up clothes from a chair and went into her small shower room. Cannon saw her balancing her clothes on top of the toilet, not much room in these compact en suite facilities.

  Maddern had gone to stand near the window, his back to the room, but he startled Cannon by suddenly spinning round, facing him, but certainly not seeing him, as he questioned, ‘When was this? Is he still with you?’

  Cannon moved closer as if to give support.

  ‘Yes, I am coming as soon as I can. No, don’t worry about Katie. I shall bring her home with me.’

  There were more questions. Cannon could hear the raised pitch of anxiety at the other end.

  ‘I shall make a detour, and …’ Maddern seemed to swallow hard and finally looking at Cannon as if he actually saw him, added slowly, ‘no, none of you go anywhere. No. No,’ he interrupted another flow as there was a tap on the door. ‘I’ll explain everything when I see you.’ He clicked off the phone and added, ‘She found Danny Smithson hiding behind our rubbish bins and a white Mercedes van’s been up and down the road several times.’

  Cannon swore under his breath, remembered Dann
y Smithson lying terrified in Sea Lane, thrown from a white Mercedes van, and wondered what he had let the boy go back to. He and Liz had helped him finished his paper round then dropped him near the village green, as he had asked, assuring them he would be OK now, his mum would look after him.’ Cannon’s time to swallow hard now, then jerk his head towards the door as there was a second knock. Maddern made an urgent zipping motion across his mouth.

  ‘Katie’s getting dressed,’ Cannon told Langton as he came in, alone this time, his face considerably more solemn than when he left.

  ‘Let’s talk outside,’ Langton suggested.

  ‘We’ll be in the corridor, Katie,’ Maddern called, ‘give you a bit of space.’

  ‘You won’t go without me?’ Katie called back.

  ‘You know me better than that, young lady,’ her father replied. Cannon admired his ability to keep his voice sounding so normal.

  Langton led the way quickly to where access to the stairs faced the lifts and there were no bedrooms immediately near. ‘The message,’ he said, ‘was from the police to all university security staff. They have a young female student dead in the park, the bag with her has the name Amy Congreve in it, and the room next to your daughter as her student residency.’

  ‘Katie’s friend,’ Maddern stated. ‘God Almighty!’

  ‘Dennis has gone back with the police to help identify her. She’s a striking, red-haired girl, the type once seen never forgotten …’ Langton added.

  ‘So how…?’ Cannon began.

  ‘No details yet, but I’ve told them about the wreath and Amy going after the man. They’ll be here any moment….’ As if to confirm his words, the lift hummed into action as it was called back to the ground floor.

  ‘I’d like to be the one to break this to my daughter if it is her friend,’ Maddern said.

  ‘I can’t see they will object to that,’ Langton said as they all watched the indicator arrow change to up and half a minute later the doors opened at the third floor. Two men got out.

  ‘Detective Inspector Hardy.’ The older man, pale as a teenager dedicated to IT, introduced himself and DS Grove, who in contrast looked as if he spent his free time outdoors. Langton introduced Katie’s father and Cannon.