Dancing With the Virgins (23 page)

16

‘
White vans and more white vans,' said Chief Superintendent Jepson, waving a handful of report forms. 'Do you
know
how many white vans there are? How many within two days' drive of here? Millions?'

‘
Quite a few thousand, certainly,' said DCI Tailby.

‘
Do you propose to check out every one? Are you
going to send my officers out on a van-spotting tour of
the country? Perhaps you could give them those little
I-Spy
books and tell them not to come back until they've
ticked off one with a rusty wheel arch?'

‘
We could ask local forces to do that for us, of course.'

‘
Oh, of course. My colleagues in ACPO will love me.
They'll call me the White Van Man for the rest of my career.'

‘
That would be rather unkind.
’

DCI Tailby had been reviewing the information for
the Divisional Commander. There was plenty of it — an entire flood of it, rapidly filling up the megabytes on the
computer. None of it pinned down any known persons
actually in the vicinity of the Nine Virgins at the same
time as Jenny Weston, with the exception of the Ranger,
Mark Roper. The nearest locations of individuals identi
fied were those of the farmworker, Victor McCauley,
the two young men living in the quarry, and the Leach
family, who had been going about their business at Ringham Edge
.

DI Hitchens had brought a map of Ringham Moor,
with the locations marked by the incident room staff.
The trouble was, there were too many paths winding their way across the moor. There could be other individuals that hadn't been seen. The white van wasn't much, but it was a start.

‘
And what about Europe?' said Jepson. 'Two days'
drive? Do you realize this van of yours could be in any
city in half the countries of the European Union by now?
Are you planning some day-trips? Are you intending to besmirch my good name with Europol? I suppose they'll start calling me Monsieur la Camionnette Blanche.'

‘
We don't think it's a French make,' said Hitchens.
'More likely a Ford Transit.
’

Chief Superintendent Jepson sighed melodramatic
ally. 'If I start getting postcards from CID officers from
all over the French Riviera, I'll want to know why.'

‘
I don't think any of that will be necessary, sir,' said
Tailby.

‘
If we don't make any progress soon, it will be,
Stewart. Does this Martin Stafford sound like somebody
who'd drive a white Transit van, Hitchens?'

‘
No, sir. But who knows?'

‘
Who indeed? Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't we
the people who are supposed to find out things like that?'

‘
We're busy tracing Stafford right now.'

‘
I'm also interested in the witness who said this
van she saw was local. How does she know it was local?'

‘
She thinks she's seen it before, sir. She remembers
that it was dirty, and has a rusted wheel arch. She
notices things like that, she says. When pressed, she
said she associates it with animals.'

‘
We're following it up, anyway,' said Hitchens.
'Checking out farmers, and so on. As it happens, it's
market day today in Edendale. Lots of vehicles in town.
All we need is a bit of luck.'

‘
We do deserve it,' said Tailby
.

Jepson nodded. 'And the witness saw this van in
the entrance to Ringham Edge Farm. Visiting Warren
Leach, then?'

‘
Could have been,' said Hitchens. 'But, as Mr Leach
himself says, the driver could have been using the road
way for some other purpose. Bear in mind there's access
to the moor there. It's the same access that we've been
using ourselves for the last two days.'

‘
Obliterating any tyre tracks in the process, naturally,'
said Jepson.

‘
Well, maybe.'

‘
Yes, we always like to wipe out a fair bit of forensic
evidence right at the start, don't we? We're well known
for it. One of our more outstanding talents, you might
say.'

‘
I think you're exaggerating there, sir,' said Tailby.
'Am I?' said Jepson. 'I don't think so. Has it ever
occurred to you there might be a case for keeping police
officers
away
from a crime scene completely when a
body is found? We might actually get better results that
way.'

‘
It's a thought, sir,' said Hitchens. 'We could suggest
it as a special project group for the Operational Planning
Department.'

‘
I'll think about it. It was also Leach's wife who found
the earlier victim, Crew, wasn't it?'

‘
That's correct.'

‘
We mustn't overlook any correlations that the com
puter throws up, Stewart.'

‘
We're not doing that, sir. I'm keeping Leach in mind
until we can eliminate him.'

‘
What about boyfriends of the victim?'

‘
All accounted for, except for the one who wrote the
note. All the others deny writing it, and their handwriting doesn't match.'

‘
And Stafford's writing doesn't seem to match,
either.'

‘
I've sent the samples to a handwriting expert. But at
first glance, they're quite unalike.'

‘
So, a mystery boyfriend, then. I suppose that's what
you would call a start, is it?'

‘
A mystery boyfriend who drives a white van?' said Hitchens.

‘
A mystery boyfriend who drives a white Transit
van with a rusty wheel arch, who has something to do
with animals and who possesses a sharp knife and a
pair of boots that match our partial print. That would be ideal, I suppose,' said Jepson. 'Is that all you want
for Christmas?'

‘
If it's Santa asking, I'd wish for Maggie Crew's mem
ories to come back as well,' said Tailby.

‘
Ah, yes. How's Fry been getting on with her?'

‘
It's slow going, by all accounts. Crew is completely closed in on herself. Putting Fry on her was a bit of a
last resort. But we can't treat her with kid gloves for ever, not if women are going to start dying on us.'

‘
Are you sure Fry's the right person?' said Jepson.
'Where's Ben Cooper today?'

‘
Cooper's on the white van team,' said Hitchens.

‘
I can't help feeling somebody else might have been
better than Fry. Cooper does at least try to understand
people. He has a bit more empathy.'

‘
Well,' said Hitchens, 'we've done empathy.'

‘
And what about Sugden?' asked Jepson. 'It would be helpful to appear to be questioning a suspect. Politically
helpful, I mean.'

‘
We're bringing him in now.'

‘
Good. And the woman from Cheshire — Ros Daniels?
’

‘
Not a trace of her. It'll take a damn sight more than
empathy to find
her,
I'm afraid.
’

*

Wayne Sugden hadn't wanted to come to the station to
be interviewed. It was understandable. He had been
out of prison only two weeks, and the cells in the deten
tion suite at Edendale carried bad memories for him. But in the end, they had just put him in an interview
room, where Diane Fry and DI Hitchens found him bubbling with fear and anger.

‘
You can't leave people alone, can you? Once you've
got a downer on a bloke, that's it. Am I going to get
this for the rest of my life? I'd be better off back inside.
’

‘
Let's just calm down, Mr Sugden,' said Hitchens. 'We only want a chat.'

‘
Oh, yeah? I know your chats. I'm saying nothing. Not a word. Fetch me a solicitor.
’

Sugden could just about qualify as a match for the
description given by Jenny's neighbour. He was about
five foot eight, a little overweight from his spell of prison food and lack of exercise, with pale eyes and
hair the colour of Dettol. His accent was certainly local.
Maybe he could even dress respectably sometimes —
when he finally put those jeans and the stained black
sweatshirt in the wash.

‘
I know my rights,' he said. 'It's on the card. Here,
you haven't shown me the card. I can make a complaint,
you know.
’

Fry couldn't raise any sympathy for Sugden. Maybe
if she had just been released from prison herself, the
last person she would have wanted to see was a police
man, and the last place she would have wanted to be
was Edendale police station. But then, she would have
thought of that in the first place before she got herself
sent down for burglary.

‘
We're trying to eliminate as many people as possible
from a current enquiry, Mr Sugden,' she said. 'We just
want to ask you a few simple questions.
’

Sugden smiled bitterly. 'Nothing's simple in this life.
Your lot taught me that, at least. You made my life bloody complicated.'

‘
Wednesday 22nd October, Mr Sugden,' said
Hitchens.

‘
What about it?'

‘
Where were you that night?'

‘
Can't remember.'

‘
You were only just out of prison. You were released
the previous day. If it were me, I'd remember exactly what I was doing in my first days of freedom.'

‘
I expect I went for a drink,' said Sugden. 'To celebrate.'

‘
Anywhere nice? I'm always open to recommendations.'

‘
A couple of pubs I know in Edendale.'

‘
On your own?' asked Fry.

‘
I met up with a few people, said hello. Come to think
of it, they bought me a few drinks. They all knew I'd been set up something rotten.'

‘
What it is to have friends,' said Hitchens. 'What time
did you go to Sheffield?'

‘
Eh? I never went to Sheffield. I told you - just the pubs in town.'

‘
Do you know a place called Totley?'

‘
I've heard of it,' said Sugden cautiously.

‘
Ever been there?'

‘
Couldn't say.'

‘
I'm asking you to say.'

‘
Did some place get burgled? It wasn't me. And if
you're saying it was, I want that solicitor now.
’

‘
Nothing like that, Mr Sugden. Take it easy.'

‘
What then? What's it all about? You try anything else
on, and you'll be in dead trouble. It's my human rights.
’

‘
You learned a lot in prison, didn't you, Mr Sugden?
’

‘
Enough.'

‘
What we're interested in is whether you were in
Totley on the night of Wednesday 22nd October,' said
Fry.

‘
Wednesday 22nd October. You said it before. The day after I came out.
’

There was a triumphant look on Sugden's face. Fry
had seen it on faces so often before. She could practically
hear the dialogue that went with it. 'I suppose you're going to claim you were never there,' she said.

‘
Am I?' said Sugden.

‘
That's what they all say,' said Fry.
^—
I was never there." We get sick of hearing it.'

‘
That Wednesday I was in the pub. Two or three pubs.
There's people will tell you that. Alibis.'

‘
Move forward to Friday 24th October, then. Were you in a car in Totley that night?'

‘
A car?' Sugden laughed. 'My wife sold the car when
I went inside. You'd have thought she was hoping I wouldn't be coming out again.'

‘
You might have hired a car.'

‘
Never in my life. Friday night? I think I went to the
pub again.'

‘
A varied social life, then.
’

Sugden shrugged. He was gaining confidence. 'That's what you did both nights?' asked Hitchens.
'Yeah.'

‘
You weren't selling stolen video recorders, by any chance?'

‘
Hey,' said Sugden, 'I think that's a "no comment".
’

‘
We'd really like to eliminate you from our enquiries,
Mr Sugden.'

‘
Well, it wasn't like that. Right? And anyway . .
'Yes?'

‘
I was never there.
’