Authors: Hilary Bonner
He held out both hands in a gesture that could have been supplication or maybe just resignation. ‘I’m not, of course, but I do my best. And naturally, as soon as I heard about Fusilier Connelly’s death, I not only studied his file thoroughly but also went over everything with his training sergeant.’
‘You said Alan Connelly’s fantasies were sometimes disruptive, Colonel?’ Karen was determined to regain a little of the high ground and quite deliberately avoided addressing the Hangridge commandant by his Christian name as he had requested, even though he was now using hers.
‘Yes. We have young women undergoing infantry training here as well as young men. There are a lot of senior people in the army who still disapprove of mixing the sexes in this way, and I have to say that my tour of duty here has, on occasions, made me think they might sometimes be right.’ He shot her a sideways look. ‘I don’t really mean that, Karen. I do believe in a thoroughly modern integrated army. But, by God, it brings its problems along with it. Particularly when you have a young man like Connelly aboard. He used to invent relationships with the female soldiers—’
‘I didn’t actually realise that you had women in infantry regiments,’ Karen interrupted.
‘We don’t, not as such,’ Parker-Brown replied. ‘But women from other regiments are stationed here
for infantry training if they are going into certain situations, in particular in preparation for a posting to Northern Ireland, for example. Anyway, there was one young woman, in particular, whom Alan Connelly focused his attentions on in ways which were quite unacceptable. He referred to her as his girlfriend, even though she patently wasn’t, he plagued her with thoroughly inappropriate love letters and followed her around the place …’
The colonel took a cigarette from a packet on his desk and offered Karen one. She shook her head. Karen had been a heavy smoker for most of her life since her late teens. She had given up for the umpteenth time just a couple of weeks earlier and this time she was determined to stick it out.
Parker-Brown nodded. ‘Filthy habit,’ he muttered, in a manner which left little doubt that the remark itself was also a habit and not something he gave any thought to whatsoever.
‘You have probably gathered, Karen, that Alan Connelly was one of those chaps who was just not going to make it here. Strangely enough, he wasn’t actually bad at the job – I think it was like another fantasy game to him, really, playing soldiers.’
Parker-Brown tapped a file on his desk. ‘It’s all here. I’ve had the computer data printed out and final reports put together by the training staff.
‘Connelly was a fit, athletic young man who was quite organised and able in his work, and certainly extremely willing. But his state of mind gave us a great deal of concern and there was little doubt that we were going to have to let him go. He had actually been disciplined only a couple of days before his death for pestering the young woman recruit I told
you about. He knew his days were numbered here. He’d been warned often enough. To be honest, Karen, I imagine that is why he took off from here and went on such a God-almighty bender.’
‘So your opinion is that when Alan Connelly told our witness that he feared he would be killed, that this was a figment of his imagination?’
‘Most definitely.’ Parker-Brown made the openhanded gesture again. ‘That would have been Connelly all over. He watched too many bad action movies, then made up his own script as he went along.’
‘What about his claim that there had been other deaths at Hangridge? “They killed the others, now they’ll kill me,” he told our witness. Have there been any other deaths here recently?’
Parker-Brown looked thoughtful, as if he was trying desperately to help but didn’t quite know how to.
‘Well, we did have a tragedy earlier in the year, about six months ago it would have been. One of our recruits died in a training accident on the firing range. They happen, I’m afraid. The first thing we try to teach them when we give them guns is elementary safety. And still they manage to shoot themselves.’
‘This soldier shot himself?’
‘Yes. Accidentally, of course. We have our own range about a mile away from the barracks. The recruits were simulating an attack on an enemy position, running forwards, throwing themselves on the ground, that sort of thing, and this young soldier had his gun cocked, fell awkwardly and blew a hole in his chest. Our standard issue automatic, the SA80, is a formidable weapon and the results were not pretty.
Got a bit of press coverage, particularly locally, you may have seen it. But these things do happen when you are training military personnel, however hard you try to avoid it.’
Karen nodded again, suddenly vaguely remembering seeing reports of the death of a soldier in an army training accident on Dartmoor. But it hadn’t been a major story. As the colonel had said, accidents like that happen in military training, and, having occurred on army land and been summarily investigated by the SIB, neither did it ever become a police matter. So she had taken little notice. She had no recollection of even taking the details on board. Certainly, she hadn’t registered that the soldier concerned had been stationed at Hangridge.
‘And that has been the only other accidental death here at the camp in recent years.’
The colonel nodded back. ‘Since I’ve been here, definitely, which is coming up to two years now. And I did study the records for several years before that.’
‘How old was this soldier?’
‘He was eighteen. Promising lad, too.’
‘Can you supply me with a file on the incident, including all the young man’s personal details? Family address, and so on?’
‘Of course. Although I don’t see the relevance.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, but I do need to be sure.’
Karen thought for a moment.
‘We need to look at every aspect of this, Colonel. I am particularly interested in tracing these two men who went looking for Connelly?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. After all, those men were definitely not figments of Connelly’s imagination. As I think I have
already explained, our witness saw them in the pub, The Wild Dog, just half a mile or so from the scene of the accident, Colonel—’
‘Gerry,’ he interrupted.
She studied him curiously. He gave the impression of being so eager to please and so anxious to be liked. What was going on behind those warm brown eyes, she wondered? Karen had had enough dealings with the military to know that you didn’t become a colonel of a crack infantry regiment through being an ingenuous nice guy. And she thought that Gerrard Parker-Brown, whom she reckoned to be in his late thirties, was considerably younger than usual to be holding such a senior rank. In peacetime, at any rate.
‘So, have you any idea who these two men might be, Gerry?’ she enquired, putting only a light emphasis on his name.
He shrugged. ‘I have no idea at all, Karen. We don’t even know for certain that they were soldiers, do we? Let alone stationed at Hangridge. If they were army chaps, I would imagine they were mates of Connelly’s who went looking for him to try to stop him getting himself into more trouble …’
‘A logical conclusion, and the same one our witness made. But I thought I’d explained that the witness also said Connelly didn’t react as if they were mates. Just the opposite. In fact, he seemed terrified of them.’
Gerry Parker-Brown shrugged. ‘I can’t comment on that, Karen. I wasn’t there. But if they were his army mates and they were determined to bring him back to camp, and he didn’t want to come back, well, he wouldn’t have been pleased to see them exactly, would he? Even though they were almost certainly trying to do him a good turn.’
‘Are you sure of that, Gerry?’
He flashed the easy grin again. ‘How can I be? But I’d bet a month’s pay on it. Soldiers look after their comrades, Karen. Indeed, it is part of their training that they do so.’
‘So nobody at Hangridge officially sent anyone out looking for Connelly—’
‘We didn’t even know he was missing until we were contacted by the police after his death,’ interrupted Parker-Brown. ‘I’m more than a little embarrassed about that, to tell you the truth, Karen, but apparently his mates had been covering up for him. Again, that’s what soldiers do.’
‘All right. So, just assuming for a moment that your assumption is correct, and if these two men were soldiers that they were Connelly’s mates, how easy would it be for you to find out who they are? I mean, would you know if Connelly had any special friends who would have wanted to bail him out from any trouble he’d got himself into?’
‘I’m not sure, but most squaddies do have mates like that.’ For the first time Karen thought that Gerry Parker-Brown looked a little wary. ‘I’d have to make enquiries.’
‘I wish you would, Gerry.’ She paused. ‘There’s something else. Our witness reckoned that both men were quite a bit older than Connelly. That indicates to me either that they are instructors or more senior soldiers from another company here at Hangridge, rather than the training unit. And if so, they aren’t likely to have been
mates
of Alan Connelly’s, are they?’
Gerry smiled. ‘I really wouldn’t know, Karen, and as we have already established that you have no real
idea whether or not these men even were soldiers, I wouldn’t like to guess.’
For a moment Karen thought there might be a slightly patronising note in Gerry Parker-Brown’s voice. But only for a moment. When the colonel continued to speak, he still appeared to be trying to be as helpful as ever.
‘I will tell you this, though, Karen. Our instructor NCOs are inclined to be extremely protective towards their charges. Any one of them, knowing that Connelly was already in trouble with his career, could have taken it upon himself to seek him out and make one last attempt to get him back on the straight and narrow.’
‘The straight and narrow?’ queried Karen. ‘At best, they left the lad to wander blind drunk along a dangerous road. At worst, I dread to think. I would really appreciate it, Gerry, if you would work on the assumption that these two mystery men are soldiers and do your best to seek them out.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll put out an appeal for them to come forward. And as it is highly unlikely that they have done anything wrong or untoward, if they are soldiers stationed at Hangridge, I’m sure they will do so.’
‘Maybe, Gerry, but we don’t actually have to rely on them doing the right thing, as it were. Not entirely, anyway.’ Karen felt in charge again now. ‘I have computer images of them, compiled with the help of our witness.’
Parker-Brown passed no comment. Karen opened her bag and removed a cardboard-backed envelope. She dropped the contents onto the colonel’s desk right in front of him. One E-fit landed the right way
up, the other she had to turn over, and as she did so, she arranged both so that they were properly facing him.
‘Do you recognise either of these two men?’ she asked quietly.
He looked down then at the images before him. She had no idea how closely they resembled the men Kelly had seen, and doubted that Kelly did either. Certainly, the waterproof clothing they had both been wearing and their woolly hats pulled down almost to their eyes had not helped.
With his left hand Parker-Brown rubbed the back of his neck, and with his right he moved the E-fits slightly closer to him as if to make it easier for him to see them.
‘Not from these, I don’t,’ he said casually. He was still looking down, and for a moment Karen thought he was not going to meet her eyes. But after a few seconds more of what appeared to be careful study, he suddenly looked up, leaned back in his chair and flashed her that grin again.
‘Actually, they look a bit like Ant and Dec going skiing to me,’ he said, and the laughter lines at the corner of his eyes crinkled, etching themselves even more deeply into his skin.
‘This isn’t a joke, Colonel,’ said Karen. She was beginning to feel a little irritated now, and her reversion to addressing him by his rank was just part of her sudden determination to make it clear to Gerrard Parker-Brown that his boyish charm was not going to bowl her over. Absolutely not.
He changed his attitude at once. ‘You’re absolutely right, Detective Superintendent Meadows,’ he responded with such elaborate correctness, that she
once more wondered fleetingly if he were patronising her. But when he spoke again there was no such inflection in his voice and he seemed absolutely sincere and straightforward.
‘A young soldier has died and it was quite wrong of me even to appear to be making light of it,’ he continued. ‘I do, however, assure you that I do not recognise either of these men. Certainly not from the pictures you have shown me, anyway. However, I also realise that this does not rule out their being part of our complement here. And I assure you that I will take this immensely seriously and that I will commence inquiries immediately. If these are our chaps, Karen,’ he tapped the two computer images before him, ‘we’ll find them, have no fear.’
‘Thank you,’ said Karen. And she couldn’t have begun to explain why she was so convinced that Colonel Gerrard Parker-Brown’s inquiries would be of no help to her whatsoever.
Kelly was sitting in front of his computer when she called around lunchtime the following day. He had been in front of his computer all morning. Since six. He had just checked the machine’s memory and it seemed that he had so far played ten games of backgammon and eleven games of hearts.
The bleep of his telephone was a welcome displacement activity. At least it would relieve him, albeit briefly, from even having to pretend that he was writing.
‘Good morning, Detective Superintendent,’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
Karen Meadows rarely had time for life’s niceties, Kelly reflected. He saw no point in speaking further until she had told him whatever it was she wanted to tell him. Karen was not the sort of person who used the telephone for small talk.
‘I’ve been out to Hangridge,’ she began. ‘Had a long talk with the CO. It has to be said that he did give me a rather better reception than I expected.’
She paused. Kelly continued to wait.
‘In fact, Colonel Parker-Brown was not what I expected in any way at all.’