When Darkness Falls
Chapter 2
The tips of his fingers, numb from the cold, held tightly onto the telephone's receiver. The voice coming through the earpiece had a sharpness to it, the result of a heavy workload with little to no resources.
"Yes…..yes, I understand" Foyle spoke, taking advantage of a short gap in the monologue. "But it would help if…."
He rolled his eyes and spread his thumb and forefinger across his brow. His feet slid out from under his desk, the toe of his right shoe touching the timber leg.
Sam gave the frame of his office door a soft knock with one hand.
She mouthed the word "tea" as she held the chipped cup and mismatching saucer in her other hand.
He nodded, a smile gracing his lips but he said nothing, at least not to her.
"The lorry was registered in Catsfield, Malcolm, and that's your jurisdiction" Foyle pleaded, his vowels clipped. "So without your help I can't move on my case." He repositioned his feet and sat up a little straighter in his chair. Resting one elbow on the desk, he said "if we don't find out what's going on, the trains will be permanently affected, the three hundred odd troops that I've got swelling Hastings to breaking point won't be able to move and…." He took a deep breath and, steadied his pulse. "...and the message I received was that there's going to be something big happening in the next few days.." He paused to take in the response. "...no, I don't want to be responsible for delaying troop movements, either…..." A sigh escaped. "….thank you, Malcolm. This afternoon will be fine…..good bye."
As the telephone's receiver found its cradle, Sam turned to him.
"Are we heading out, Sir?" she asked, lifting her own cup to her lips, the pale green porcelain hiding what he knew to be a grin.
"Well, ...not just yet." He turned his cup in its saucer, bringing the small handle to the other side. "I'm waiting on a bit more information." He lifted the cup and took a sip.
"Milner said that there's been some materials stolen from the rail yards at Three Oaks" she casually said as she sat in one of the visitors' chairs beside his desk.
"Did he?" Foyle shrugged his mouth to one side. Sam didn't need encouragement, her enthusiasm alone was enough to fuel her curiosity. He took another sip of his tea as he waited for the rest of her theory to come.
"What would anybody want to steal at a rail yard, Sir?" she asked, resting her almost empty cup on one knee.
Standing to open a filing cabinet drawer, he answered. "Hundreds of pounds worth of steel, copper...even rubber. All high in demand…..and worth much more on the black market." He slapped a heavy buff coloured file down on the desk.
"But wouldn't somebody see, Sir? I mean," she started, throwing down the last of her tea, "wouldn't there be night guards….late trains…..and they'd make a heck of a racket."
"Mmmm..." Sitting back down on his chair, he reached into a drawer beside his left knee.
"Unless...it's an inside job! Do you think it might be, Sir?"
"Well, as you said, pretty difficult to get away without alerting somebody."
"And they'd need transport" she added, the smile on her face telegraphing her excitement. "Not to mention half a dozen strong men to do the lifting. Hard to miss that, Sir."
"Right."
"Who reported the stuff missing, Sir?" she asked, her eyes trained on his face.
"The, uh, Station Master, Sam." He watched as the smile left her face.
"So I guess we can rule him out as a suspect" she grumbled, running her finger around the rim of her cup.
"Mmmm...probably."
"That makes things a bit more tricky, doesn't it, Sir?" She looked up at him imploringly.
"Well, it does but.." he nodded to a young Constable, nervously hovering at his door, a written note in his hand. "There was a lorry spotted in the area and we have its registration and..." he added, quickly perusing the note, "….an address."
Sam quickly stood, almost knocking her empty tea cup to floor. "So, shall I get the car, Sir?" She was half way out the door when she stopped and doubled back to retrieve his cup, too.
"Yes, please, Sam" he told her, hiding his smile behind his hand. "You, uh, might want to see if Milner's ready to go."
"Yes, Sir" she quickly acknowledged, giving him a tight nod. "Right away, Sir."
Milner gripped the back of Sam's seat, squeezing the padded leather a little harder as they followed a sharp bend in the road.
"How much steel are we talking about, Sir?" Sam suddenly asked, the sound of her voice a little jarring in the silence of the car.
"What?" Foyle retorted, drawing himself out of his thoughts.
"Well I was just thinking, Sir….."
Foyle smirked and turned to look at his driver, hoping to catch her eye but she was much too engrossed in the task of driving to notice.
"Where would they store the loot, Sir?" Sam's head turned slightly, her chin jutting out. "I mean...it's not something that you can just bury in the back garden, is it?"
"No."
"Someone must have seen a great big pile of steel and copper…..mustn't they, Sir?" She slid her hand around the wheel, adjusting her grip as they pulled away from a crossroad.
"Plenty of people who would turn a blind eye to crime, Sam."
"Too many..." she mumbled, not letting her eyes leave the road.
"Quite a bit of woodland around, Sir" Milner added, a moment later. "It's possible that any stolen goods could be hidden deep in the woods." He turned in his seat and pointed to one of the many narrow and almost hidden lane ways leading away from the main road. "And if the lorry is well know in the area, no one would suspect anything. The perfect cover."
Foyle gave a nod, mumbled something to himself and turned to look out of his window.
Foyle took his hand out of his pocket and gave a quick rap on the old wooden door. It wasn't long before he heard movement on the other side, a shuffling of feet and the clinking of what sounded like a large bunch of keys. The door slowly opened and a rush of comparatively warmer air hit him.
"Yes?" the gruff voice asked.
"My name's Foyle….I'm a policeman" Foyle replied, covertly looking beyond the solid chap's shoulders into the small cottage.
"You don't much look like a policeman" the man said, squinting his eyes and pointing to Foyle's open coat with the mouth piece of his worn out pipe.
"Detective."
"What can I do for you….Detective?" he asked before returning the pipe to the corner of his mouth.
"Is that yours?" Foyle asked, pointing to the tail end of a green and black lorry parked beside the cottage.
"Aye." The man replied although his face remained neutral.
"And your name?" Foyle asked, raising his eyebrows to add a bit of gravitas to the question.
"Flaxton….Trevor Flaxton."
"Those tyres might need a bit of air, Mr Flaxton" Foyle suggested, crouching to take a closer look at the rubber. "Drive a lot?"
"Aye, it's my job. I do deliveries" Flaxton replied, placing himself between a now standing Foyle and the lorry.
"Who for?"
"Whoever needs 'em" he answered, shrugging his shoulders.
"On your own?" Foyle asked as he walked towards the opposite side of the vehicle.
"Nephew helps….some of the local lads when I need 'em"
"This nephew have a name?"
"Teddy Flaxton…...my brother's boy. His father….my older brother…...died as a result of being gassed in the first war."
Foyle nodded as he inspected the deep groves and scratches that lined the interior of the lorry.
"What was the last thing you carried, Mr Flaxton? Looks like it left a bit of damage."
"Farm machinery" Flaxton quickly hurled back, fishing a box of matches out of his pocket and relighting his pipe. "You've got quite an interest in my lorry, Mr Foyle. What's this all about?"
"Just routine enquiries, Mr Flaxton." Foyle turned and put his hands slowly into his pockets. "Mind if my Sergeant and I take a look around?"
"If you must" the now agitated man replied as great plumes of blue-grey smoke engulfed his face. He turned on his heel and began the journey back to his front door. "Don't know what you hope to find" he mumbled and left Foyle standing alone.
From over the small ridge, Milner and Sam appeared.
"It's the same registration plate number, Sir" Milner commented, his voice kept low.
"Mmmm...and look at the tyres."
Milner nodded.
"Sir?!" Sam cried, her attention obviously taken.
"What is it, Sam?" Foyle asked as he walked over to stand beside her.
"What's that?" her slim finger pointed towards the dark corner of the canvas covered lorry. "There's something shiny...and long." She grasped the handle above her left ear and began to lever herself up onto the back of the vehicle. The rusty metal frame groaned at the addition of her weight.
"Just be careful" he demanded, his hands hovering beside her hunched shoulders as she climbed.
Nodding, Sam made her way to the front. She kicked the folded canvas at her feet as she moved further into the darkness. A puff of dust, presumably from within the folds rose up and made her cough.
"You alright, Sam?" Milner asked, placing his hand on the steel frame near the tail gate.
"Yes!" came the confident reply. "It smells like….coal dust, Sir."
"Yes, I smell it, too. Just fetch whatever you saw and then...come on out, will you?" Despite the somewhat covert nature of their activities, Foyle's voice had grown louder, his anxiety increasing.
"It was just here….." she mused, running her hand along the wooden panel beside her for stability. "Ahh" she suddenly exclaimed and soon appeared in front of the men, a smile on her face and the evidence held aloft in triumph.
"Give me your hand, Sam" Milner suggested, raising his right hand and re-positioning his foot. As soon as her feet were back on the ground, she showed them what she'd found.
"I think it's copper, Sir" she declared, not quite managing to hide her pride.
"Looks like it" Foyle confirmed, taking the short length of metal out of her open palm.
"Looks like it's brand new, Sir" Milner added, receiving it from his boss and slipping it into the pocket of his coat.
"Coal dust..." Sam said, following after her policemen, "...and copper. Clues, Sir?"
"Mmmm" came the reply. "Could be."
They walked further, Foyle taking a slightly longer path than he had to so as to avoid a steep rise covered with loose gravel. Sam, less inclined to hide her consideration for Milner's lack of stability, fed her hand around his elbow and walked with him up the incline.
"What exactly are we looking for, Sir?" she asked, missing the smile that Milner gave her.
"Not sure" Foyle replied, stopping at the top of a small hill.
Having been released from Sam's guidance, Milner followed.
"Doesn't seem to be anything much at all, Sir" Milner pondered, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand under the brim of his hat.
"No….see anything, Sam?" Foyle asked, half in jest, a smile on his face. His grin faded quickly though when he noticed that she wasn't in sight. "Sam?!" he called again, this time a lot louder.
"Down here, Sir!" came the reply from a valley to his left, a handful of trees separating them.
"What have you found, Sam?" he called, edging his way down the slope.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure, Sir."
"Wait there, Sam. On my way."
"When did it rain last, Sir?" she asked as Foyle and Milner approached.
"Um, last night, I think."
She nodded towards a narrow road that weaved its way through a lightly wooded paddock below. Where the trees sheltered the ground from the rain, tyre marks could be seen in the mud. "Whatever vehicle made these, Sir," she suggested, "was either a lot heavier than the width of the axle suggests or it was carrying a heck of a lot of weight."
"Right."
"And it obviously made these tracks recently."
Slipping her slender body through a narrow gap in the trees, she started to walk along the road.
"Where are you going, Sam?" Foyle asked, frowning.
"Don't you want to know where it goes, Sir? It could be another clue."
"Could be, but, uh, not now, Sam" he said, his tone making the decision quite clear. "We don't know how far it goes, or where, and it'll be dark soon. Best that we stop for now and come back another day, don't you think?"
"Yes, Sir."