This is the final work in Mike and Neil's story. I haven't yet worked out how many parts it will split into, but it's all written. Diane Sutton, formerly Owens, takes over the narration as the SCRU goes after Nigel.

Please be aware the direct reference is made to suicide here, along with particularly nasty harassment.

CLOSING DOORS
CHAPTER 1
Candice was out with Jon taking a statement in yet another fraud case that had spun off from the Evans building fiddles heap, the gift that simply refused to stop giving, but the rest of us were in. Sammy was in feral mode, which triggered my interest, as it always did. He waved Lexie forward.

“You have the floor. DC Doyle. Go for it”

Lexie stepped over to our first newsprint stand, raising the cover.

“Our informant here has come via Enfys Hiatt-Edwards, who looked after us in North Wales”

Rhys asked, quite politely, if that was the gay girl, and Lexie nodded.

“Yup. You may also remember the case of assault and abduction a few years ago. Four teenagers kidnapped another, locked her in an old shed in a quarry?”

There were a few murmurs of agreement amid the nods, and Lexie pointed to one of the photos on the stand.

“That is Alys Hiatt-Edwards. She’s married to Enfys, and she was the victim in that case. She was only discovered, by accident, by this man. He is Neil Strachan, and he is our informant in this new case, as well as a secondary victim. He is also, from before the event, a family friend of Alys and Enfys, to both families. Be aware that he is neurodivergent, borderline Asperger’s, and a pro photographer, as was his wife”

Oh fuck. I looked across to my hubby, and his mouth was in that familiar tight line. Lexie was continuing, though I could still see the cracks under her smooth façade. This was going to be another pile of ordure.

“This is Neil and his wife Madeleine, Maddy, on their wedding day. They ran a photography business in Cheshire, and Sammy has info on the local force issues. Maddy was, well, the same sort of woman as Annie, Debbie and so on: trans. That was the source of the offence, or rather its starting point”

Ellen raised her hand, in her usual way.

“I am not expecting a nice answer to this one, Lexie. Wife dead?”

There were more cracks showing, but Lexie’s voice was still steady.

“Off the top of a multi-storey car park, Ell. Verdict was suicide”

Ellen leant forward, face hard.

“Can we take it that she was encouraged in her actions? Like that arsehole of an uncle we nicked at St David’s was trying?”

“Absolutely. Neil had to leave the country, and, well, while he was away…”

She took a deep breath before revealing another sheet of pictures, this time of a slightly overweight man, clearly fond of Barbour jackets and brick-red trousers.

“This is Nigel Forbes. The following description is my own: chaser, abuser, stalker, distributor of hateful communications. Neil has a massive file of stuff that someone will need to collect officially, but he is a very thorough man, so here we have copies of the notes, including some that Maddy had ripped up, photographs of Mr Forbes and his car—any guesses as to type?”

It was Alun this time.

“I’d normally have said ‘a Beemer’, but the way he’s dressed---Landrover or Range?”

Lexie lifted the sheet to show ‘Nigel’, this time wearing a flat cap, next to his car.

“Range Rover, of course”

“Bloody flash bastard. When do we get the rest of the evidence?”

“We already have it, as I said. The originals are in plastic bags for SOCO. Not by me; Neil is, as I said, a very thorough Aspy. Any initial questions before we start on the copies?”

Ellen once again.

“What’s the score with Neil? I mean, is he our sort of personality?”

Lexie flipped back to the wedding photo.

“Oh, most definitely. He is in so much pain it leaks out, and, well: going back to the start. Enfys has an uncle, one Michael Rhodes. When we met Enfys, Alys was in Australia for her University practical placement year—she does ecology. That’s where this uncle lives. I gather he’s widowed. He’s also very close to Neil, and he was the one that alerted Enfys, as he thinks Neil was planning some sort of confrontation with our man”

My husband was next.

“Pardon me if I am smelling some shit about this one, but with what you say you have in terms of evidence, why didn’t the local force pick up on it?”

Lexie shrugged, but it was obviously for show.

“That was apparently what triggered the uncle’s warning to Enfys, which is why she got Neil to speak to me. It stinks, absolutely reeks. This Nigel Forbes must have some sort of influence. Could be funny handshakes, could just be money, or maybe blackmail, which would fit his style. No real idea, though. Sammy?”

Our boss was most definitely in Fully Feral mode.

“As you will remember, we have connections up that way. I spoke with Bev Williams, and he spoke to Mr Sedgewick, who is most concerned that yet another unpleasant case in his force area appears to have avoided a proper examination. Accordingly, we as a review unit have been booked out to Cheshire at their request, rather than us asking them if they mind us trampling all over their turf. Oh: Neil is also a friend of Debbie Wells, Gemma and the rest of that crew. In other words, he’s ours, he’s family. By the book, then, and Lexie is obviously out of the loop for now. I will leave you to divvy up as appropriate, but I would like the original proposed exhibits ASAP for forensics.

“I will leave you with something Lexie explained to me, just as a clue to Forbes’ personality. He groomed Maddy for some time. Had her eating out of his hand, from the account. Got her into bed, got what he wanted, then called her a freak and threatened to puke on her if she didn’t cover herself up, before walking out”

He took a couple of slow breaths, then grinned, still utterly Feral Sammy.

“I know, I know. We get to meet the loveliest people, but we also get the chance to bang the fuckers away. Let’s get this one done properly, okay?”

I couldn’t disagree with that sentiment.

The team followed its usual assumptions, at least in my case, and I was handed a box of DVDs to work through in recognition that I wasn’t that different to this ‘Neil’, in all honesty. so I duly picked up my headset and went to our standalone for a viewing marathon. I wasn’t sure if there would be audio, but if there wasn’t, I would wall off the office with sound from my mp3 player. As I picked up the box holding far too many discs, Blake patted my arm.

“Set your alarm for four, love. That way we can collect the boy wonder from your parents at a reasonable time. Put your phone in your pocket so you’ll feel it as it goes off”

He walked off to start on another aspect of the case while Lexie did the one thing she could contribute to our work and handed out a round of hot drinks before settling down to plough through a disclosure schedule for an unrelated review. That had been my job before this one landed in our laps, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful or not. Time would tell.

It did exactly that, as my alarm did its job, dragging me back into the world. I looked at my case working book, surprised to see how many notes I had made as I’d searched for a pattern. Something was nagging at me, but it wouldn’t show itself properly. Blake appeared, jacket already on, and handed me my own.

“We’re off to gather the offspring and return any body parts he may have taken as trophies. Same again tomorrow, folks!”

We stopped over at my parents’ place that night, and I am sure I startled my husband when I sat bolt upright in bed at two thirty in the morning with a reasonably loud “Shit!”

“Umf, you okay, love?”

“Sorry. Something just clicked Going to write it down before it goes again—cover your eyes; I won’t be long”

I turned on the light and found a supermarket receipt in my jacket pocket, scribbling down a quick note to myself that I hoped would make sense when the morning finished arriving.

A decent breakfast, of course, a kiss to each parent and then drop Rhod at the school gates with a note for his teacher. One of the advantages of having such a large number of young women as friends is that I had a seemingly endless supply of childminders, that day’s being Tiff, so I could plan properly, and my note was almost burning a hole in my pocket.

“Get me in, love. Some things I really need to look at again”

Candice was back in, and Blake told me later that when she saw how I completely missed the coat hook, leaving my jacket on the floor, she had simply picked it up for me, hung it properly and then started making me a drink. My team understands me.

Back into the video discs, and what I wanted was the feed from the camera that apparently sat to the left of the shop door. White Range Rover… two of them in the feed… which one was Nigel’s… Oh. Right.

I noted down disc numbers and time and date stamps as I worked through, so I might see any pattern in them, but it was the cars that I was staring at. I locked the screen before calling Sammy.

“What you got, Di?”

“I don’t know, exactly, Sammy. I just know it’s wrong. And, to be honest, if it is what I suspect, bloody illegal. Have a look”

I brought up an image of one of the white wankpanzers.

“Personalised plate, Sammy. Meant to be his name, using ‘40’ to get a pun on ‘Forbes’, see it?”

“He’s stretching that one a bit, Di”

“Well, wanker is as wanker does. Sorry; bit sleepless last night. Now, look at the other car. See anything?”

“What am I looking at?”

“Two things. First, the plate. What’s it missing?”

“Oh! Right. You’re talking about the maker’s name and the UK marker, I take it?”

“Yup. Now, have a look at that one’s rear bumper, down to the left of the plate. Mud mark?”

“Got it”

“This is the other car, same angle”

“Fuck! The cheeky bastard’s cloned it, hasn’t he?”

“I do believe so. Same car, two sets of plates”

Alun was also looking over my shoulder by then, along with Rob. My scruffy friend was chuckling.

“What does the fucker do for work, Di?”

“Um, no idea. Been stuck in this since the job came in”

“Well, I am going to float an idea here. Where’s he live, Sammy?”

“East Cheshire”

“That fits. That’s the same car, both plates. I would suggest that our friend has two bits to his job, one of which involves a lot of driving, and he doesn’t like speed cameras. He might even be going as far afield as the M6 toll road. Vanity plate for driving around where he’s known, cloned plate for avoiding fines and tolls. I will make a small bet with myself that he’s got tints on his windows. Di?”

“Looks very like it, Al”

“They will be illegal as well, then. Stops him being recognised with the wrong plates. What an arsehole!”

Sammy was laughing now.

“Say what you think, lad!”

“Don’t I always? This gives us an in, if we need one, for a traffic stop. Not a clue how that helps us right now, but, well”

Sammy stood a little straighter.

“No, mate. You are forthright, but this sounds a bit more direct than normal. What’s up? Missus okay?”

Alun slumped slightly.

“As well as she can be, I suppose, but it’s not her. Did you realise the cunt was still sending notes even after the woman’s death?”

I turned in my seat, feeling a little ill in advance of what I knew was coming.

“No. How bad are they?”

He walked over to his desk, returning with a plastic-wrapped photocopy.

“This is possibly the worst. I say ‘possibly’, because there are more I haven’t looked at yet”

It was a criminal cliché, the note formed from bits of print that had clearly been cut from a newspaper or magazine.

‘Dog goes woof
Duck goes quack
Cow goes moo
Freak goes splat’

As I handed it back, I realised my hand was shaking.

“Sammy?”

“Yes. Yes you can”

“I can what?”

“Go and collect the originals. This is most definitely a case I want, I NEED, a result from. Alun? Can you come with me for a bit?”

“What are we doing?”

“A very brief interim report to Mr Sedgewick, via Bev. I want to stir some pigeons, and together with Di’s little nugget, this should work. Do your tie up, for now”