Chapter Ten – Home Again
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It was three o'clock when Alf Ventress finally managed to get a break from the search up on the moors. He was aching all over the place after having walked for so long. It wasn't exactly his normal pace on the beat. The younger constable's and their dogs had set the pace high from the beginning but, thankfully, the local farmers and other volunteer's had taken it easier. Unfortunately the search had been without result so far and if he was to be frank, he hadn't expected them to be found up there.
Alf smiled to himself as he walked toward the police car, standing at the side of the road, a distance away. There were enough people on the search team that one less didn't make much difference; besides he had to report in.
He got into the patrol car and sighed as he slowly sat down in the driver's seat and closed the door. The old copper was feeling exhausted and felt his legs tremble ever so slightly, after the day's exertion, as he pulled down the brake and clutch, keyed the ignition and drove off toward Ashfordly. Alf really hadn't been driving a car for a very long time since he didn't need to on his beat, pacing the central streets in Ashfordly. He hoped no one saw him driving down the road with a speed equaling a hiker or heard the engine rev up as he used the wrong gear. If he got to the station, without any incident, he would stay as far away as possible from the patrol car for a very long time.
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"Sergeant Blaketon, do you have anything to report?" DI Bradbury asked, his voice dripping with authority and superiority. A combination Blaketon was starting to dislike.
The Ashfordly sergeant put down the mouthpiece of the telephone he'd just spoken into and looked up from his position at Bellamy's desk as the CID officer walked up to him from his office.
"Not much, if any at all, sir," Blaketon replied, trying to keep the disdain out of his voice.
Bradbury raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Really, what's with the phone then?" he asked.
"A local case," Blaketon informed. "Not connected to this in any way I'm afraid."
The DI narrowed his eyes looking anything but satisfied as he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "I'll be in my office…" he trailed off looking at the sergeant, "…in your office. Call me the minute everyone has been recalled."
"Yes, sir," Blaketon muttered as the pompous superior officer began to walk away. "Unbelievable," he mumbled under his breath and turned his head as the door opened, revealing Alf.
"Ventress," Blaketon acknowledged. "Anything to report?" he asked.
"There's nothing to report, sarge. They wouldn't be stupid enough to walk around the moors, they're probably long gone by now, laughing at the stupidity of the North Riding Constabulary," he replied sourly, longing for a fag and a cookie.
Blaketon choose to ignore the remark as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in the chair and fixed the constable with a stare. "Don't hang up your coat, Ventress," he said in a sharp voice. "Get out there and find Greengrass, then bring him to me," he commanded.
"Sarge," Alf protested mildly.
"I have a feeling he's not telling the whole story and I'm going to squeeze it out of him," Blaketon explained, his upper lip curling slightly upward at the thought of nailing the old crook.
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"Right," Kate said as she turned up next to their house, killed the engine and got out of the car.
Nick slowly opened the car door on the passenger side and, with some effort and help from Kate, managed to get out. He grimaced ever so slightly as he let himself be led by his wife toward the door.
"I'm fine, Kate, really," he assured her softly.
She gave him a disapproving glare as she unlocked the door. "Come on, bed for you now," she commanded.
"I've been lying coped up in a hospital bed for two days, I refuse to…" he whined.
"I'm a doctor remember?" Kate cut him off. "And I tell you to go to bed," she added as she moved to stand opposite him in the kitchen.
Nick broke into a cheeky grin. "Under normal circumstances I wouldn't mind you want me in bed," he said.
Kate chuckled. "Nick," she admonished.
"How about a compromise?" he pushed.
She smiled and then leaned in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "If you promise to behave, I'll let you sit in the sofa for a while. However, I'm due in the surgery in two hours and then I want you in bed," she said and pointed a finger at him. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, Doctor Rowan," he replied with a mock salute.
"No telephoning to work," she added.
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"So," Sergeant Blaketon began gravely as he sat down opposite Greengrass in the interrogation room.
"So, what?" Claude asked in annoyance.
"So, what?" Blaketon echoed astonished. "I want the truth, Greengrass, and I want all of it," he demanded.
"I've already told you everything I know!" Claude protested.
"Cut the crap, Greengrass. I'm not in the mood. Two of my police officers ended up in hospital and now I have the Detective Inspector breathing down my neck," Blaketon said crossly.
Claude chuckled. "Giving you a hard time is he?" the hustler asked lightly.
"Shut up!" the sergeant exploded.
"Obviously," Greengrass muttered at the sudden outburst.
Blaketon sighed and clasped his hands together in front of him on the table and fixed Claude with a stare.
"Look, I've already told you everything I know. That chap, Frank Fields, came to me one day and asked me if I knew some place to rent," Greengrass began.
The sergeant nodded slightly waiting for him to continue.
"I might have told him about the abandoned farm," he admitted sheepishly. "He said he was in the storage business and had some stuff…"
Blaketon leaned in over the table. "What kind of stuff are we talking about?" he asked sarcastically.
"Well, I don't really know and when I tried to get to know he asked me to keep out of his affairs. But apparently it turned into an explosive situation," he added with a toothy grin.
"It's not funny, Greengrass!" Blaketon shouted, feeling his temper rise.
"I didn't say it was," the old scapegoat replied seriously, mildly put out. "Anyway, you know the rest. Rowan and Bellamy banged on my door, wanting to know where my friend was. I told them he wasn't my friend. They left and headed for the farm."
"After the explosion, what did you actually see?" Blaketon questioned.
"Didn't you listen the first time?" he whined.
"You claim you saw a blue truck and then two men running from the place," Blaketon returned in a low voice. "But you didn't really give any description of them."
"That's because I didn't see them properly," Claude argued, raising his voice.
The police sergeant frowned skeptically but said nothing.
"Look, one of them had a gun so I was a little preoccupied at the moment. The other one cradled his arm but that's all I saw," he answered honestly.
"One of them most likely Frank Fields," Blaketon muttered.
Claude's interest rose as he heard the name. "Who's that chap anyway?" he asked.
"He's a criminal, Greengrass," Blaketon replied in a no nonsense tone as he rose from the chair, picked up the papers in front of him and headed out of the room.
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"Good morning," Kate greeted cheerfully, coming from the bathroom, as Nick slowly blinked his eyes open.
"Morning?" he questioned softly as she walked up to his bedside with a smile on her face.
She nodded as she leaned in to kiss him, wrapped in a towel only.
"What did you give me yesterday?" Nick asked suspiciously.
"Just something for the pain," Kate returned innocently as she strode over to her side of the bed and reached for some lingerie.
"Sure," he returned sarcastically as he stifled a yawn.
"Rest is the best thing for you right now," Kate reasoned and shrugged into a summery dress with flowers. "I will be out on house calls most of the day so I would want to check on your wounds before I go."
Nick turned to her in bed and winced at the mere thought of it. "Actually, I would prefer if you just gave me another kiss," he returned.
"Nice try," she returned smugly.
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10/17
To be continued.