New Order
Disclaimer in part 1.
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Ronnie sat down at the table in the dingy depressing room. It was a functional space, four chairs, a table and the recording apparatus it's only contents. It's purpose was to give it's occupants nothing to distract them or make them feel at ease, to draw out the truth. Comfort was not in the mind of the designers.
The chair next to him was already occupied by Angie, the female officer who served alongside him and Matt in the MIU and who Ronnie believed was probably the most efficient and conscientious of all the junior officers he worked with. He'd rather have half a dozen 'Angies' than a hundred production line 'officers'. He waited as she turned on the recorder, giving it the details of those in the room, he heard her say the name 'Justin Combes' and regarded the figure sitting opposite, the man's court appointed lawyer sitting next to him, writing notes on a spiral note book. Combes was a gangly, pale man in his early thirties. His stringy dirty blonde hair and pale face making him look a lot older. Ronnie cleared his throat.
"Can I have a cuppa?" The man opposite him asked gruffly. Ronnie looked over the top of his glasses at him.
"What's the magic word?" He scolded. The man pulled a face, rolling his eyes.
"Please!" He answered sarcastically.
"No. Now I assume you know why we're here?" He retorted. The lawyer continued to make notes, spoke without looking up.
"I'd appreciate it if you would lose the sarcasm DS Brooks, my client is well aware that he has been caught in a little deception, he had no intention of robbing Mr Carlisle. He and his partner have been worried recently at how vulnerable the elderly residents of the flats are and were attempting to make a point to bring to the notice of the authorities." The grey suited monotone drawled, as if his life was way too important to be stuck in this dreary room with these equally dreary people. He completely missed the dark look which crossed Ronnie's face.
"Really?" He fought to keep his voice level. "Then your client won't mind telling me where he got the warrant cards and IDs he and his partner used to try and gain entry into Mr Carlisle's flat."
"Found 'em." Combes shrugged.
"Found Them? Where?"
"Dunno. In the road."
"Which road?"
"Dunno..."
"Mr Brooks. How is it my clients fault if two of your finest are careless enough to lose such sensitive documents?" Ronnie bristled, fighting with his temper. He felt a calming hand on his leg, bringing him back to his senses. He smiled gently at Angela, giving her a small nod of gratitude.
"You found them perhaps in King Stephen's court this morning?" He watched as the louse opposite fidgeted slightly in his seat.
"Maybe, yeah."
"In the path, on the road..."
"Ummmm..."
"In the driveway of number nineteen?" The man looked up at him, and Ronnie could see worry and fear for the first time, the lawyer looked up as well. Ronnie went in for the kill. "Did you take them from the house, or maybe from the bedroom after you beat DAC Robert Strickland to death..." Both the men opposite stared at him in shock, the lawyer looked nervously at the man beside him, realising for the first time that he may be looking at more than a simple robbery. The greasy man sat upright, his mouth dropping open.
"NO! No No No...I Never, I mean we didn't...We didn't go no further than the bottom of the stairs. I swear..."
"Tell me." Ronnie prompted. The man looked lost and glanced at his brief. The grey man nodded, conveying to his client that the only thing that might save him was the truth.
"We was trawling for houses. Me and Jas. Looking for easy targets, you know garden ornaments, fancy door knockers and like. I got a cousin who has a market stall and he'll pay for old antique stuff."
"What time was this?"
"About five. We'd looked at the house a while back 'cause it was empty and it had some fancy ironwork window boxes front and back. When we got there, we saw the door open. We just had a peek like. It was still pretty dark and there was no one around. Then we saw the handbag and wallet sitting on the table by the door, there were keys as well. We grabbed them and scooted, the keys fitted the nice Merc in the drive so we went for a little ride. Jas found the police stuff when she was looking through the bag, so we thought we could knock over a few of the pensioners in the flats, then we'd dump the stuff." He rushed. Ronnie looked at the pathetic specimen of a human in front of him with disgust, he was sure that he was a low life, but doubted the piece had the guts to kill.
"You didn't see anything else, no vehicles, people hanging about?"
"Only a cat. We didn't hurt anyone."
Ronnie took a breath.
"Upstairs in that house, a man lay with his head beaten in, he's been rushed to hospital, but it doesn't look good. Maybe if you had raised the alarm, he might have stood a better chance..."
"You said he was dead!"
"Did I, sorry, but he still might die, and we don't know where his partner is, she was removed from the house by force and we have no idea where she is. Both the victims are police officers, which as you can imagine has made us all a little bit anxious to find someone to answer for it..."
"Wasn't us!" Combes voice went up an octave. "I swear..."
"So here is what you are going to do." Ronnie continued, "You and 'Jas' are going to sit down together and try to remember every single detail of this morning. You are going to confess to taking the Ids and trying to obtain money by deception. And you are going to tell me where the car is." Ronnie growled. Combes nodded.
"We parked it in the Tesco car park up on the main road. Didn't want to risk taking a pretty car like that onto the estate. The wallet and stuff is still in the back. I put the keys up inside the front bumper, on the passenger side" He looked at his brief. "I'll hold me 'ands up to taking the wallet and other stuff, and the Merc, and yes we was going to do the old fogies out of a few quid, but we never did over a couple of coppers. Swear on me life!" The lawyer looked at Ronnie who stood.
"Wait here." He said firmly. He stood and opened the door, vaguely hearing Angie tell the recorder that the interview had been suspended and DS Brooks had left the room. He stepped into the adjoining room, where his Boss, DI Natalie Chandler stood watching through the one way glass.
"You believe him?" She asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, he's a piece of shit, but not a killer. Her?" He turned to the other glass in the room, where Matt was interviewing 'Jas' with another WPC. Natalie shrugged.
"Telling pretty much the same story. But you know, our victims weren't a couple of pushovers, I can't imagine either of these being able to do this." Ronnie shook his head in agreement.
"Nah, plus from the smell of him, he's been wearing those clothes for a while, if he'd have been there, he'd have blood on him, it was everywhere. No, I think we've caught a couple of low lifes, but not our scum." He got his phone out and started searching for a number. Natalie looked at him puzzled.
"Who are you calling?" She asked. He looked at her over the top of his glasses.
"Gerry Standing." He said she shook her head slightly. "He's with UCOS, our victims team." He elaborated. Natalie frowned.
"Ronnie, do you think it's a good idea to involve them,they are personally involved..."
"Nat, if it was one of us, we'd want to know. He's a friend, we've known each other for years, besides, if you have heard anything at all about UCOS, you'd know that they are going to get involved, whether we let them or not, we might as well keep them on side." He smiled gently. "Don't worry, I'll keep them in check, they won't do anything to compromise our investigation, any way, at the rate we're going, we may need all the help we can get."
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