Chapter 6

For the rest of the day, they continued sorting out the evidence and transcribing the recordings they had made. Sally rang Laura.

“Laura, it’s Sally. I do have one question for you. How long was it after your mother got her reminder note before she was killed?”

“That was a week, I think. The note was in the post on the Monday, and she was found the following Tuesday. How are you going with it?”

“We have the name of the smaller man. Would you believe that their nicknames are really Horse and Cart?”

“If it wasn’t so serious, that would be funny. Best of luck with it, I’m starting to enjoy life, now, without looking over my shoulder all the time.”

On Monday, the three of them rang the bell at the Prentice residence. It took a few minutes before a very haggard-looking Hazel opened it.

“Come in, officers. I was just about to call you. I’ve decided to leave the country and put the house on the market. I thought I’d better let you know.”

“I’m sorry, Hazel, but we can’t let you do that. We’re still investigating the death of your husband. Until we have concluded the investigation, you are still a suspect in his murder.”

“I’ve already told you who killed him. Put him away and everything will be all right.”

“Who told you that, Hazel? Was it Zak?”

Hazel froze, then her eyes went to an envelope on the hall table. Ben picked it up and pulled out the card it contained. It was plain, with just the typed words – Remember that promise that you made - in red letters.

Hazel Prentice slumped to the floor, and they picked her up and took her to the conservatory, where she was laid on her sunbed. Ben put the envelope and note into an evidence bag, with a note that he had touched the one corner. Sally put a bottle of smelling salts under the woman’s nose, and they all sat, while she came round.

When her eyes opened, she reached for her glass, which Ben had already taken, along with the bottle. Both men took out their recorders as they were now sure what will come next.

“Hazel, you need to concentrate on what I’m going to say, because it is going to change your life. Hazel Prentice, I am arresting you on the suspicion that you conspired, with others, to kill your husband, Harrison Prentice. Anything you say, from now on, will be recorded by both these officers, and could be used against you in court. Am I clear enough for you?”

Hazel just nodded. Her eyes now dull.

“I believe that you met Zak Jackson at a dance, or a club, where he was singing with the band. I believe that he took you to bed, more than once, around two years ago, and that’s when he gave you an answer to your problems. How am I going so far?”

Hazel just nodded.

“Let the record show that Hazel Prentice agreed by nodding. Now, Hazel, your knew he had enough money for you, but you were greedy and took out a life policy on your husband.”

“If the bloody company would admit to that, I’d be all right, now.”

“The company is right, Hazel. There is no policy, because your husband cancelled it as soon as it was pointed out to him.”

Hazel moaned and closed her eyes.

“That sneaky bastard, I’d kill him for that, if he wasn’t dead, already!”

“Now we get to the juicy bit. Zak asked you to find someone to blame, so that your husband’s death could be classed as murder, didn’t he?”

“I admit it, detective. You seem to have all the answers.”

“When you told Zak about Ridley, was he happy?”

“Odd, that. He said that he already know about Ridley, even had knowledge of a friend of his.”

“What about the yacht?”

“I told him that Ridley had a big yacht. He then asked me if he raced. I told him that he did.”

“What did you mean by that. Ridley’s yacht is a century old and a classic?”

“I didn’t mean the yacht, silly. No, Ridley has horses at a stable, over in Norfolk. He races them.”

Sally just looked at Hazel in disbelief.

“Hazel, we are going to have to take you into the station, now. If you give me the keys to this house, Ben will accompany you should you want to secure anything or put together a small bag. You will be supplied with clothing when you are checked in.”

Hazel nodded and stood, looking longingly at the bottle as Ben followed her out of the room. Charlie let his breath out in a quiet snort.

“Even I’m not a match for that one, boss. That woman is so ditzy, she sank the whole set-up herself. What do we do, now?”

“Now, young Charlie, we lock this place up, after we’ve turned off the gas and electricity, and we take Madam Prentice into Aston, to get her to sign a statement, after Sue and Terry have done the official interview. I think she’ll be ready to spill her guts.”

They took a very quiet Hazel Prentice into Birmingham. With her looking out the window at her freedom passing by.

“What will happen to me, now?”

Sally, sitting beside her in the back seat, spoke quietly.

“Now, Hazel, you begin a process which only you, the judge, and your lawyer will be able to sway. You can still plead not guilty; in which case we will have to prove otherwise. When we do, you’re facing a long time in prison. You can plead guilty, and join with the prosecution to put Zak, Horace, and Jack inside, for the murder of your husband. In that case, you may be able to take the rap for being an accessory, which will be a much shorter sentence. Did you know that your husband took out a large mortgage on the house?”

“That means I’m now totally screwed! He left me with nothing!”

“Hazel, I believe that it was no more than you deserved. Did Zak tell you what happened to the last woman who didn’t pay?”

“You mean there’s more?”

“Oh, yes, just a few that we know about, so far. The woman who didn’t pay was found, a week after she got that same note, dead in bed from an overdose of sleeping pills. She did have a life policy, but the company was holding it up.”

When Hazel, now very quiet, was handed over to the duty sergeant, the three of them went up to the office, to play Sue the recordings, making sure that they were identical recordings of the arrest and admission.

“Good job, you three. What you need to do now is to set up talks with the other divisions, to let them know what’s coming down the line. You had better go and see DCI Withers, in Macclesfield, first. I’ll give him a call and make an appointment for you, tomorrow. You can get the other appointments with the DCIs in Sheffield, Leeds, and Manchester. You have most of the answers for them, already. The rest depends on what happens when we nab the murderers.”

“Yes, Sue. A lot will depend on what they find at the three houses, after we put them behind bars.”

Over the next few days, they set up a watch on the three suspects, after explaining to DCI Withers all the facts that they now knew. He would tell them when they were on the move. They also had a list of gigs, from Barry, so that they wouldn’t react to those times. From this, they saw, Cultz were not playing on the following Monday or Tuesday.

They also went to see the CID DCIs in Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield. Showing them the evidence that they had uncovered on the old cases. All three agreed to look at that evidence seriously, but only after any arrest and search, should it result in anything that took those cases further.

Sue and Terry had officially interviewed Hazel, with her lawyer present, and she had told them the whole story, from the beginning, over two years before. Sue was amazed with that one simple fact about the yacht being the chink in the armour that had been built around the murder.

On Sunday, when they knew that the band was playing a long way away, the team went into the house, with Sue taking them. They took enough frozen meals to last them three days, as well as nightwear and changes of clothes. The house was big enough for the three of them to have separate rooms. From Monday morning, the feed from the temporary camera would be monitored around the clock, and a rapid response team that also had keys to the house would be stationed in Castle Gresley, to arrive as soon as asked for.

Monday morning, Sally was in the conservatory, reading a book, a radio beside her and a bud in one ear, listening to the chatter. Ben was upstairs, at the front, and Charlie was watching the back. They would check in with each other, from time to time, with Doggy and Sue in the office passing on news from the camera feed and anything coming from Macclesfield.

Just before ten, Sue passed on the news that the three men had left Macclesfield in the Fiesta. Everyone relaxed as it would be a couple of hours, now. The three, in the house, took the opportunity for a toilet break and a cup of tea. Doggy called in as the car was seen passing camera sites, and, when it was near Burton, they all took their places again.

When the Fiesta parked next to the barn wall on the opposite corner, Sue ordered the response team to attend, but not to use any siren. Ben called that they had got out of the car and then started for the stairs. Sally was ready when the three men walked into the conservatory.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

“My name is Sally Brown, and I’m here to tell you that Hazel can’t be here, today.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because she is in the cells in Birmingham. Somewhere that you three will see for yourselves, very soon!”

Sally pulled out the taser that she had hidden from them, and fired it at Zak, at the same time that Ben and Charlie fired theirs at the two other men. As the three of them collapsed, they were quickly cuffed and each one was arrested, with recordings, as the response team came in to haul them away.

“That went well, boys. We’ll tidy up here and remove our things. Uniformed have an extra car for us when we lock up. Now we can get the houses in Macclesfield searched.”

She spoke to Sue, over the radio, to tell her that the three suspects were on their way to Aston, and to let DCI Withers loose on the three houses. They packed their things, and the squad car took them back to Birmingham. As they had been on duty for nearly twenty-four hours, Sue told them to go home.

“It will take a while for Macclesfield to go through the houses, you three get some rest. Terry and I will interview the men. I’m sure that they’ll all claim that they were just calling on a friend and we assaulted them. It now comes down to the search, to see if we’re still able to hold them.”

On Tuesday morning, Sue called the whole team together.

“Boys and girls. I have to announce that we do, indeed, have cause to formally charge our three suspects with murder, firstly of Harrison Prentice. Sally and you two bright lads; you’re coming with me to Macclesfield. DCI Withers has something he wants to show us. He hasn’t even told me what it is but has told me that it beggars belief.”

Sue drove them up to Macclesfield, telling them about the interviews, which were as she said. They would be able to make the formal charges once they returned with the evidence. They were all wondering just what that evidence could be. At the road where the three houses were, there was a small fleet of police vehicles, including three FSI vans. DCI Withers met them, clad in the protective gear.

“Welcome to the house of fun. Put on the gear and we can show you what has made me very excited.”

They all suited up and he led them into the house.

“This one belongs to Zacharia Jackson. The others are built the same. It all looked normal until my guys opened a locked room, upstairs.”

At the door of the room, he stepped aside.

“Enter and be amazed, I was.”

The four of them went into the room. Charlie was the first to speak.

“We were right about clowns.”

The room was set up as a music room, with a wall of sound equipment, piles of records and CD discs. It was obviously where Zak learned the lyrics. It was the opposite wall that took their breath away. There was a bench in front of it, with a small pile of gold-coloured plates, a computer, and a printer. Hanging from a rail, was what looked like, at first glance, gold records. There was a sign over them. It read, simply – ‘If you give this man a ride’ – in flowing scrip.

There were twelve gold records on the wall, and, when they went closer, they could read the labels. Ben groaned.

“Bloody hell! Here’s the one from Sheffield, the dead man as the artist and the wife and Hervey as supporting artists.”

“Here’s the Leeds one, with Norman as back-up vocals, and I can see the Manchester one with Oliver in a similar role. What are you looking at, Sally?”

“This one still on the bench, Charlie. The label has Harrison as the artist with Hazel and Johnson as backing singers, but the label hasn’t been glued on, yet. What do you think, Cuz?”

“I’m looking at these others. They all have a release date, a victim as the artist with the wife as backing. I hate to say it, but it looks like these are straight-forward suicides that they organised. Taking off the three we know about; this implicates them in nine other murders where the wife just took the money. No wonder they could live well if they were getting fifty grand every time.”

Withers spoke, from the doorway.

“My office has looked up the nine, yesterday afternoon. There are three there, from Macclesfield, and the rest are spread over Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield. It looks like your case is the first time they went that far south. I tips me hat to you, that is one solid result.”

Sally looked at Ben and Charlie.

“In the end it was handed to us.”

The three laughed, then finished the saying, in unison.

“On a plate!”

Withers told them that the earliest of the suicides went back nearly fifteen years.

“The other houses aren’t so blatant, but there is a book of printed invoices in Cartwright’s house, with the carbons still intact. You’re right about clowns, but, if they hadn’t made a mistake, they’d still be operating. My daughter will be upset, she goes to all the Cultz shows that she can. They’ll probably find another singer, but it won’t be the same. Look, take all the pictures you want. I’ll send you the full FSI reports as soon as they’ve worked through them. My guys tell me it will take a week or more. I’ve already notified the CID in the other three cities. I’m sure that they’ll be in touch with you, in the weeks to come.”

They spent an hour, taking pictures and looking in the other two houses, taking pictures of the three copies in the invoice book that related to the three that they knew about.

Before they left, they removed the suits and shook hands with DCI Withers. Sally looked at him.

“In among those CDs, Sir, you should find a number that have people speaking on them. These are the ones that Zak used to mimic the voices. We know that there are four, at least. The other thing is our case was started over two years ago. By the look of those mementos, I would think there must be others, still in the planning stage. You may find notes that don’t relate to the others in those houses.”

“You’re right, detective. One of the suicides was only seven months ago, so they were busy boys. I’ll probably see you again, my Chief Super will be calling a press conference once we have the other wives in custody. It might be hard to prove the cases, but I’m going to give it a damn good try!”

Sue treated them to a lunch on the way back south. She toasted them on a job well done.

“You three have cemented your places in the team. You are really a small team on your own. I’m going to talk to the Chief Super to see if Sally can be elevated to Acting Sergeant, so you can keep calling her boss.”

“Yes, boss.” Was the collective answer.

The following weeks were hectic. They had discussions with the top brass from Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield. They attended a press conference in Macclesfield, and they stood outside the gates of Doncaster Prison, Armley and Strangeways, with the extended families, to welcome Hervey, Norman, and Oliver back into the world. Those occasions extended into the evenings as they were feted by all and sundry.

The trials of Zak, Horse, and Cart were long and drawn out. Each city wanted their own, but the Commissioner stepped in and decided that it should take place in Sheffield, with the idea that the Doncaster prison was the best place to put them. Sally spent a lot of time with the prosecution teams, and it was Acting DS Sally Brown who sat in the court, next to her team, as the life sentences were read out for each of the prisoners.

The cases against the wives took a lot longer to resolve, as several needed to be brought back from sunnier climes to face the music, and a couple had died. The only one of these that interested them was in Birmingham, where they sent Hazel away for five years, for conspiracy to murder her husband. Of the others, several wives pleaded guilty to being an accessory and testified for the prosecution in the main trial.

A month after that, the three of them were invited to a lunch at the Wellington, in Brecon. Sally drove the three of them there on the Saturday morning. At the car park, Ben looked at one of the other cars.

“That one’s a Government car, with a driver, there must be someone special here, I doubt that it’s for us.”

“Don’t be so certain, Ben. The invite came from Sir Broderick, and he’s got a seat in the House of Lords. You never know who he may know.”

As they walked into the hotel, Johnson Ridley came from the dining room with his hand out to shake.

“I saw you arrive through the window. Thank you for coming, today. Broderick set this up as both he and I wanted to thank you. It worked out that there are others who also want to thank you. Now, come on in and enjoy a good meal, the talk will happen afterwards.”

When they followed him in, he led them to a table, by the window, with a lot of space between it and the other tables. Ridley introduced them.

“First, you already know DCI Withers, from Macclesfield, the gent next to him is DS Armstrong from the Macclesfield Tactical Response Team. Sally, you have met the Assistant Commissioner before. You have also met Sir Broderick. The last, but not least, is someone you may have seen on the television. Jonathon, these are the three detectives that solved the case. Sally, Jerry and Harry, this gentleman is the local member in Manchester, and also likely to be the Home Secretary when his lot get into power, again.”

“It won’t be long now, Johnson. Thank you for coming, I saw you at the trial, but I stayed in the background. Now, a meal first, and then we talk!”

Somewhat subdued, the three of them sat. After the meal, with coffees for some and port for others, the AC commented that he was sorry that he hadn’t had a chance to have a meeting at Aston but told them that there were still commendations being added to their records. The politician asked what it was that made them certain it was not Johnson that had committed the murder.

“That one was easy, Sir. They thought that he had a racing yacht, so they got the rope to suit. The knot was even one used by racing yachts to secure special sails.”

“Why would they think that?”

“You lead with the droll, Charlie.”

Charlie grinned.

“They asked me about the yacht and then asked me if he raced. I said that he did.”

Ben joined in.

“But his yacht is a century old.”

The three of them finished.

“I didn’t mean the yacht, silly. No, Ridley has horses at a stable, over in Norfolk. He races them.”

The men around the table looked stunned, Withers and Armstrong couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Ridley snorted.

“I knew she was a lush, but that takes the cake. She torpedoed the whole plan before it even happened?”

“It was the one thing that made the initial mistake. The second is to keep all those records.”

Withers suddenly looked serious.

“Ah! The records. When you left me to it, that day, you said that there could be notes in regard to the murders and intended murders. I asked my FSI guys to give me any notebooks, unopened, and that I would give them back those that related to the cases we knew about. As you know, from the trial, these were found in the big guy’s house. Who would have taken him as the brains behind the operation? There were a few of those notes that bring us here today. I’m sure that the AC will tell you that this is all between us, but we all felt that you have a right to know.”

“We’re all ears, Sir, and no mouth. Whatever it is it’s safe with us.”

“One of those notebooks concerned DS Armstrong. He can tell you why.”

“I hate to admit it, but my wife had been shacked up with that Zak. He and she were planning to get me to put my gun to my head and blow my brains out. The notebook even had some jottings about the note I’d leave. It had the line – ‘I woke up this morning and got myself a beer’. From Roadhouse Blues, I believe. I confronted her with it, and we divorced, quietly. I have to thank you three for saving my life.”

The Shadow Minister then spoke up.

“Another of the notebooks concerned my own death, supposedly at the hand of my political rival. It didn’t get as far as to what I would leave, but I was to have been hung, like the other cases. The notes wondered if they could use Sir Broderick as the friend who would call him away. We both do the odd climbing and we’re all quite friendly. My wife is now living with her mother until we can divorce.”

The AC took over.

“As you can see, this has to be kept between us, but you three have friends in high places, should you ever need us, into the future. Those planning notebooks have been destroyed, after all the intended victims were notified. All of us thank you for you detective work and for saving more lives than you realised. I’m sure that three released men thanked you, as well.”

“Yes, they did, Sir. We needed to take an Uber to a hotel and pick the car up the next day.”

“A well-deserved celebration, I’m sure. Tell me, what happened to the band, I’m told that they were very popular?”

“They found another singer, and Barry Blake got them a songwriter. It seems that it was only Zak that was holding them back. They still do some covers, but I’m told that they have an album coming out soon, with all original material. Two of their new songs are being played on the radio. One of them is called ‘We Played with the Devil.’ I believe that it’s close to being a hit.”

“So, it’s all upward and onward for the three of you, is it.”

“I believe it is. With DCI Cousins as our boss, and the rest of the team that we work with, I’m sure that we’ll have plenty to do.”

They all stood, and hands were shaken. On the way home, Sally, as usual, opened the conversation.

“Well, what did we learn from that?”

“From what, boss, we just had a nice dinner with a group of friends.”

“With friends like that, Sally, whoever we confront, we can come out swinging!”

“Enough with the droll, Charlie. You’re right, though. Just don’t tell the others who we know, they’ll only get jealous.”

Marianne Gregory © 2023

This is the last of this series, for the year. Hopefully, I can write a couple more for next year.