X murderer a norfolk tri.., p.1
X MURDERER (A Norfolk Trilogy Book 3), page 1
X MURDERER
A Norfolk Trilogy Vol 3
Marcus Crowe
For ‘my Kim’ for her love and support. Without which, these books would not exist.
For my Family
"No one would have crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off the ship in the storm."
Charles Kettering
Contents
Preface
About the Author
1. May 2018
Chapter 2
3. New Year 2017
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
6. June 2018
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
18. Early June 2017
Chapter 19
20. July 2018
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
29. 10th June 2017
Chapter 30
31. July 2018
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Afterword
Also by Marcus Crowe
Copyright © 2022 Marcus Crowe
All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author and/or publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Produced in United Kingdom.
For permission requests, please contact: mail@marcuscrowe.com
Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.marcuscrowe.com
Also at www.twitter.com/Marcusrcrowe
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https://www.facebook.com/Marcusrcrowe-109147631360799/
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Preface
I would like to sincerely thank you for taking the time to read my books. I have put a lot of thought and effort into them. I’m sure you will realise; book writing is a long and often tedious task.
After you have finished the books, I would really appreciate it if you could spare the time to write a review. Not only does it help other potential readers to choose my book, but it also gives me the feedback to apply to my future books.
Many thanks, Marcus.
About the Author
Who is Marcus Crowe? An ordinary man living along the Norfolk-Suffolk border. Marcus has lived here all his life, playing in the hedgerows and fields as a child, then a working life in many jobs. Variety has always been the spice of life for Marcus, never happier than when taking on a new challenge. Be it at work, in play, or now writing. Old enough to have experience but still young enough to care about appearance and what he says, just.
Drawing on that experience, local knowledge and a vivid imagination, Marcus Crowe the author has emerged.
His X Murderer trilogy is deeply embedded in this rural area.
The idea came from his partner trying to tell him a story but couldn’t remember the person involved: ‘You must know him, he’s an ex-murderer,’ she said.
He quickly responded that you can’t be an ex-murderer. It was at that moment he had the idea to write a book. The story is now a completed trilogy.
May 2018
PC Ashley Woods was sitting behind her desk, still in a state of shock at the news, Hive or Ralph, whoever he was, is dead. Sergeant Jones was milling around with PC Rob Attwood, neither doing much apart from whiling away the shift. Sarge was worried about Ashley, he knew how much effort she had put into the Ralph Johnson investigation, not just in official police time but also in her free time. Sarge pulled up a chair beside Ashley.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘I still can't believe it. After all I've done, it ended up like this. I knew there was something up; Ralph was behaving very oddly.’
‘In what way?’
‘Like he had given up or someone had seriously upset him, he was practically begging me to arrest him. I’m now wondering if he knew something was going to happen?’
‘Well, it's too late now,’ said Sarge, massaging his chin.
‘I know if I had been there, it would have ended differently. Whatever he had done, if anything, that end needn't have happened,’ said Ashley, shifting in her seat.
‘I don't know about that. He has done some terrible things, unless of course, you think he’s not Ralph,’ said Sarge, rubbing his temple.
‘I am not sure he is,’ replied Ashley, looking at the clock while getting up.
‘That’s it Sarge, my last shift is over. I’m out of here,’ she said trying to hold her emotions in check.
‘Just before you go, Ashley, can I have a quick word?’
‘Of course, Sarge,’ she said following him into the side office.
‘I don't know if it will happen or not, but if you do get asked to help with the Ralph investigation, just watch out for Turnbill.’
‘Why is that?’
‘He’s not a nice man, a real male chauvinist; if it were up to him, the force would still be like Z Cars. He personally has curtailed the career of many young women in the past, I don't want you added to the list.’
‘Thanks for the warning, Sarge.’
‘That's okay. Just remember he is a Superintendent and, unfortunately, has some clout. Come to think of it, that’s odd to have such a high-ranking officer attending the scene; I wonder what his game is?’
‘Maybe he’s in it for the glory; let’s hope the pig doesn't get any further promotion,’ said Ashley, with a smirk.
‘I wouldn't bank on it. Turnbill has a real skill for dodging bullets and blaming other people. However, you'll find DCI Neville Green a decent guy if you do get the call.’
‘I will miss you looking out for me Sarge,’
The sarge had taken Ashley under his wing from the first day she arrived at the Diss Constabulary. He was very proud of what she had achieved to date, thankful he had played a small part in the success she was bound to have in the future. He always wanted a daughter, but he and Mrs Jones, sadly, weren't blessed with children.
Ashley cleared her locker and desk, then bagged up her possessions. After handshakes, all-round Ashley walked to the front door, glanced back, then left to shouts of; ‘Good luck’ and ‘go get em!’ from Rob and Lisa.
‘Don't be a stranger,’ from Sarge as he discreetly wiped away a tear.
Ashley avoided wheel spinning the Fiat Abarth as she merged with the traffic, which was slowly making its way through Diss.
Once home, she dropped the bag on the floor and turned on the oven to cook a beef lasagne ready meal. Ashley poured a large gin and tonic before collapsing into the sofa. At least she had tomorrow to prepare for Tuesday, a new start at Norwich. DC Ashley Woods had a nice ring to it she thought.
The following day, Ashley returned from a jog around Diss and had freshened up with a shower. Afterwards she started thinking about tomorrow, what to wear mainly. It was an introduction day, so no real pressure.
Her semi was small, downstairs, a kitchen diner and toilet, two small bedrooms and a bathroom up top. It fulfilled her needs for now.
Ashley looked around the diner and smiled at her latest trophy to the left side of her bookcase, “Go-Cart Champion, round 1, 2018” she had maintained last year’s form, much to the dismay of the lads. To the right of her trophy collection was a small bookcase, mainly Blackstone's Police Manuals, from general policing right up to senior investigators handbook. No one could accuse Ashley of not being keen. She had read them all several times and constantly referred to them. In fact, Ashley's life revolved around three things, policing, keeping fit and reading about policing. Visiting her parents this afternoon would remind her why she had to impress them and ultimately prove them wrong.
Upstairs, Ashley looked again at her murder wall and everything she had found out so far about the Ralph investigation. It had been good training, allowing her to put what she read into practice, but time to move on. If ‘piggy’ Turnbill didn't want her knowledge, then it’s his loss. (Sarge had told her about the derogatory comments he had made about her.) Ashley carefully removed each strip of lining paper and rolled them up, secured each by a length of string and stored them in the spare bedroom, under the single divan bed. It was the preferred place for all her memories, old school reports, a box containing police paperwork and certificates and ‘Samuels’ chest pushed right to the back.
At twelve-thirty, Ashley made her way to Norwich, drove along Newmarket R
Ashley walked up to the magnificent oak, six panelled front door, pressed the brass bell push and after taking a last deep breath, walked in.
‘Ashley love you’re here.’
‘Hi mother,’ she managed before being cuddled and having her shirt collar straightened.
‘You look well, love,’ she said before shouting, ‘Rupert, Ashley is here.’
‘Your father’s in his office,’ she said, stroking Ashley’s hair while guiding her into the Orangery.
‘What a shame you had your lovely long hair cut off, it looks so short and tousled now.’
‘It’s a modern cut mother, besides long hair and policing don’t mix.’
‘Take a seat, and I’ll pour you a spritz.’
Ashley gazed out at the vast garden, its beautiful borders and well-manicured hedges; she wondered how many gardeners her father employed now.
Rupert Woods excelled as a commercial barrister and worked for large companies, mainly in London, but he also travelled widely. Ashley wasn’t that sure on the finer points of what he did, but he was rarely at home during her childhood. Her mother, Gwendolyn, was an adoring housewife, and she made sure everything was perfect for her husband. Now Ashley has flown the nest; her life revolves around shopping, trips with her wealthy friends and keeping fit in the home gym.
‘Ashley, how lovely to see you.’
‘Hello father, how are you?’
‘Very well indeed.’
‘You look good, nice tan.’
‘Yes, we’ve managed a couple of trips so far this year, skiing in Courchevel and unwinding in the Maldives.’
‘Sounds pleasant.’
‘It was. How’s life being a public servant going?’
‘Great, you managed almost five minutes.’
‘I can’t understand why you would want to work in the gutter when you could have all this,’ her father said, swinging his arms around.
‘You still have a lovely way with words, father. Maybe I like the gutter.’
‘Now now, you two,’ said Gwen passing them a glass.
‘Lunch is already in the dining room, just a simple buffet, I’m afraid.’
Ashley knew it would be far from simple, just as she knew how the conversation would go. For the last four years, it had been the same, and it wouldn’t be long before Samuel was mentioned.
‘Anyone for a top-up?’ asked Gwen, breaking the awkward silence.
After lunch, they retired to the Orangery, and soon it started.
‘I saw Samuel’s mother this week.’
‘Of course, you did. You live in each other’s pockets,’ replied Ashley.
‘He still asks after you even though he has a new girl. His mother thinks an announcement is imminent. It may be too late soon.’
‘Too late! It’s finished, mother, I’m not interested. That’s why I left.’
‘Of course, that expensive schooling I paid for, was wasted,’ Rupert chipped in.
‘Be wasted even more if I succumbed to being a lovely housewife in a nice big house, wouldn’t it!’
‘You’re impossible,’ said an exasperated Gwen.
‘Why can’t you just accept I’m doing what I love and doing it well. I don’t want all this; I want to make my own way.’
‘You won’t be wanting your allowance then.’
It always ended like this, threatening to take away money. It’s all they understood. I didn’t care because I had never used it. Each month I move it to another account where it just sits until I find a worthwhile cause for it. My parents most cherished friends had a son, Samuel. Ever since we were children, it was expected that we’d marry. It was all about keeping the precious money in the family. I went along with it for a while, Samuel was lovely, and we had such a good time. I did love him, but then I saw my life being neatly mapped out by our mothers, down to every small tedious detail. I didn’t want that life, I wanted to live, so I called time on it all and left. Mother was, and still is, devastated, along with Samuel’s mother.
‘I’m off,’ said Ashley, picking up her handbag and turning towards the hall.
‘Won’t you stay for a bit longer?’
‘Sorry, mother, I have things to do.’
Two
No matter how much Ashley pretended not to be interested in what happened to Ralph, she was, of course. She drove through Hoxne on the way home, slowly. There was a lot of police activity around a small barn just down from the care home. She saw a TV media van tucked away in the lane leading to the care home. That evening on the local news, there was a report on the murder. It was big news which attracted increasing media interest. A reporter shared what little information he had, along with his suggestions about what may have happened.
Next was a press release from no other than Detective Superintendent Gareth Turnbill. He looked just as Ashley had imagined he would.
‘My officers and I have today found the body of Ralph Johnson. We strongly suspect he was guilty of several murders in the 1990s. We believe this to be a murder investigation and are currently conducting inquiries in and around the Tall Trees Care Home, just outside Hoxne. We are very keen to trace two people seen in the vicinity to help us with our inquiries. I strongly urge members of the public who may have any information to come forward. You can contact the crime desk on the phone number below.’
He looked arrogant, full of self-importance and relished the publicity.
Ashley still thought it had to be Amy, or her dad Len. Who else would care or even know about Ralph?
Ashley pulled up at the Norfolk Constabulary Headquarters, Wymondham. She gazed up at the very impressive glass covered building as she collected her notecase from the boot. Ashley walked to the detective assessment centre for a nine-fifteen meeting; of course, she was early.
During the interview with senior detectives, Ashley talked about her police career and her wish to become a detective, which started last year with DI Tom Collins. The panel delved into how she had passed the National Investigators Exam, earlier this year, with the highest score ever recorded. The assessment felt like an interrogation; she was encouraged to talk at length about her revision, and of course, the inquiries into Ralph. Her interviewers seemed impressed and thought she might have real potential to make decent detective. After a lunch break, the assessment continued.
For the practical experience to progress to the next level they decided to team her up with Detective Inspector David Moore from Norwich CID. For the rest of the week, David drove around Norwich, showing Ashley some active cases. First the scene of two recent burglaries where they discussed the correct procedure, evidence gathering and victim support.
Back at the station she sat in on the interview of the suspected offender. Ashley had to take David through the procedures of possible evidence gathering at a crime scene. Next a severe assault case where the victim couldn’t, or wouldn’t, identify the perpetrator. After repeatedly reading the police manuals, Ashley knew every step from boots on the ground to what an SIO would do. It was dealing with the victims Ashley found hardest. The ability to remain calm and in control, while being compassionate and not becoming emotional, is a skill that books can’t teach. Talking to the assault victim at his hospital bed, Ashley felt sure he knew exactly who his attacker was. She told David the reasons why, and they echoed his conclusions. After the meeting, they discussed why a victim of assault is unwilling to make a statement, how and why that could result in a wasted investigation. By the time David and Ashley had moved through the second week, David was confident of two things, Ashley knew the procedures inside out, and had had a damn good education. Aside from that, she was good company.
