Inspector Stone Mysteries

3-1

Nathan was in the middle of what he liked to call his monthly t*****e session, making sure all the reports from his department were in and had been inputted to the system correctly, which forced him to exercise his limited computer skills — no matter how much he practiced, his ability to use a computer competently never seemed to improve beyond a level at which a nine-year-old would mock him — when the phone on his desk rang.

“Stone, C.I.D.,” he answered the phone, half annoyed by the interruption and half relieved.

“It’s Bill,” said the duty sergeant in the communications centre. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Can’t you give it to someone else? I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork.” Much as he relished the thought of an excuse to take a break from the computer and the seemingly endless parade of reports, he knew the job needed finishing, and putting it off would only make it worse.

“It’s a body, Nate, and you’re the senior officer right now,” Bill Frost said. “It looks like a drowning apparently, but it still needs investigating.”

“Of course it does,” Nathan said with a sigh. “Where is it?”

“Open spaces Activity Centre.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out, see what’s going on.” Nathan hung up. “How do you fancy a drive out to the country?” he asked of Burke as he closed the report he had been checking and logged off from his computer.

“What’s up?” Burke asked.

“A body’s been found out at Open Spaces. It’s a possible drowning and we need to check it out,” Nathan told him. “Do you want to come with me or stay here and go through this lot?”

Burke glanced at the stack of reports on Nathan’s desk for only a moment before saying, “I’ll go with you.” Unlike Nathan, he had no problem with doing paperwork, he quite liked bringing order to chaos, but he preferred an investigation to paperwork. “Why don’t you get Mason to do it,” he said with a grin.

Nathan returned Burke’s grin with one of his own. “Good thinking. Mason!” he called out, lifting his voice so it carried through the open door to the outer office of the Criminal Investigation Division and the desk of his second sergeant.

Detective Sergeant Mason, who was a marked contrast to Burke, being only five-foot-seven and overweight to the point of almost failing his yearly physical, appeared in the doorway so quickly he might have teleported there. His ability to move so quickly had caught a few suspects by surprise over the years, since he looked as though he should be slow.

“Yes?”

“You want to become an inspector someday, don’t you?” Nathan asked.

Mason nodded. He was as ambitious as any other officer, even if he had been given reason to think that his chances of becoming an inspector were vanishingly small, thanks to ill-advised actions and attitudes on his part.

“Good. Here’s your chance to find out what the job entails. I’ve got to go and deal with a body. While I’m out, I want you to check through all of these reports and make sure there’s no problems with them. It shouldn’t take you long if you’re efficient, then I can sign them off when I get back.”

For a moment, Mason looked as though he was going to protest the job, but then he swallowed what he had been thinking of saying and nodded for a second time, realising that without the backing of his superior, his slim chances of becoming an inspector would reduce to non-existent.

“Of course, I’ll get right on it.” He collected the files and was on his way out of the office when he stopped. “I almost forgot, I’ve got Grey sniffing around Aladdin’s Cave. I caught a rumour the other day that someone’s bought the shop from the Bilinski’s, and they’re just as dodgy. I’ve been trying to track down the new owner’s history but no luck so far.”

“Keep me informed,” Nathan said. “And make sure Grey’s careful. You know how often he c***s things up.” With that he left the office, Burke on his heels.

Before leaving the station, he stopped at DCI Collins’ office to let him know a body had been found, before he heard about it from another source, especially The Branton Herald, or Branton’s rising freelance journalist, Louisa Orchard, either one of whom would want a quote or whatever information could be teased from an official source.

**

Nathan saw the pair of minibuses parked outside the main building of the activity centre the moment he and Burke reached the entrance to the car park. Both minibuses were emblazoned with the name and crest of Branchester Secondary School and Sixth Form College, and the sight made his heart sink a little.

It was no surprise that a school had pupils at the centre, he knew the majority of the bookings Open Space received were from schools, but he would have preferred it if that hadn’t been the case just then. Even if the body was not that of a pupil, and no-one from the school was connected with it, The Branton Herald was likely to make the most of school children being there at the time of a fatal incident.

“Did Frost give you any details on the body?” Burke asked as he got out of the car, his eyes, like those of Nathan, on the two minibuses.

“No.” Nathan shook his head. “I’m not sure he had any details to give. Come on, we won’t find out what’s happened by staying here.” He led the way past the school vehicles and into the building.

“Hi, Detective Inspector Stone and Detective Sergeant Burke,” Nathan introduced himself and his partner to the white-faced young man who was the only person to be seen. “I understand a body has been found, could you tell me…” He was interrupted before he could finish.

“It’s this way, Inspector.”

“Lead on then,” Nathan told the uniformed constable.

He couldn’t see the body that had brought him there when he stepped outside again, but he could guess where it was. The lake was about a hundred yards away, and between it and him was a small gathering of people; he was sure the body was to be found in the middle of the group, which was made up of the partner of the constable who was leading him, two paramedics, and five others, three of whom he guessed to be staff members at the activity centre from the clothes — skin-tight items that were suitable for all weathers and activities.

Nathan didn’t dawdle on his way to the group, but neither did he hurry. He used the walk as an opportunity to look around and get a sense of the area and the situation.

He could see nothing that he found troubling, outside of the fact that someone had died there that morning, but he knew that meant nothing. He and Burke had been to plenty of crime scenes that looked to be anything but at first glance.

As he got closer, he switched his attention from his surroundings to the group. He looked from one face to the next, searching for anything that might be out of place or which might demand an explanation.

The constable who had taken up a position slightly to one side of the group, out of the way but close enough to provide assistance if it was needed, was making an effort to appear detached from the situation, though he could not entirely conceal the distress he was feeling.

The paramedics wore identical professional looks that neatly concealed whatever they might be feeling, though there was an air of compassion about them both, which was to be expected of people who were accustomed but not used to the ways in which a life could end.

Nathan was not interested in either the constable or the paramedics. They would not have arrived until after the young man died — he was more of a boy, Nathan thought as he rounded the group and was able to see the body on the ground more clearly — and so had no knowledge of, and hadn’t been involved with, what had happened to him. It was the other members of the group that he was concerned with, and to whom he looked for early clues as to how the boy had died.

The three that Nathan had identified as Open Spaces employees were, to one degree or another, upset and distressed, though largely in control of themselves. He suspected they would remain in control until they were alone or with their friends and family, only then would they let their feelings out.

The same could not be said for the middle-aged woman, whom Nathan decided from her reaction and her clothes was a teacher from Branchester Secondary School. She appeared on the verge of a total collapse. Her entire body trembled and shook, her cheeks were wet from tears, her eyes were red, and she sobbed in a way that made Nathan think she was either genuinely upset by the death or she should take up a career in acting and expect to win awards.

It was the last person in the group that interested Nathan the most. Like the crying woman, he guessed the man was a teacher, a gym teacher based on his better than average condition for someone who appeared to be in his fifties and the tracksuit he was wearing. He had separated himself from the others by a short distance, which Nathan found a little curious.

He was more interested in the look on the man’s face though; the gym teacher, if that was what he was, seemed to be more angry than upset over the body on the ground.

Nathan filed away the teacher’s anger as something to investigate later, and focused instead on the more immediate, and important, matter of getting to the bottom of what had happened.

“Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Stone, and this is my partner, Detective Sergeant Burke,” he introduced the two of them once he had the attention of everyone in the group. “I realise this isn’t a good time for any of you, but I’m sure you can appreciate that I need to get to the bottom of what’s happened here.” There was a barely perceptible series of nods that he took to mean they understood and were okay with him being there, or at least as okay as they could be under the circumstances. “Right then, let’s start with the basics, if you could all give me your names, and the name of the unfortunate young gentleman here.”

There was silence for several long seconds, broken only by the sobs of the teacher, and then they all started speaking at once.

“It might be better if you speak one at a time,” Nathan said. “Starting with you.” He pointed at the gym teacher. “Who are you, and do you know who the young man is?”

“Yes, he’s Graham Banks, a pupil at Branchester Secondary School, and I’m Steven Irish, head of physical education there.”

“Thank you.” Nathan noted that the anger he had detected in Irish’s face was also there in his voice. “And you are?” He turned to the next person in the group, the sobbing woman, who took a while to compose herself sufficiently to answer.

Once she had spoken he moved on, going around the group until he knew who everyone was, then he turned to Dennis Harrison, the eldest of the three Open Spaces counsellors. “Are you the most senior person here?”