NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9) by John Dean (digital ebook reader .txt) 📕

father of Jamie Holdsworth?’ asked Hatton. ‘Even though he was not even in Hafton at the time his son was killed?’

‘I am not in the position to confirm or–’

‘And is it true too that you have lost track of Albert Macklin, who surely has to be your main suspect for the murder?’

‘Yeah,’ said Bob Lennox. He moved to the front of the group and jabbed an accusatory finger at the chief constable. ‘How many more innocent children does he have to kill before you fuckers do something about him?’

The Chief scowled. He hated being asked questions to which he had no answers.

Chapter eighteen

Sitting at his desk the next morning, Blizzard had an acute sense of problems piling up on him as he listened gloomily to the rain drumming incessantly against the office window. He looked up as Arthur Ronald walked into the office shortly after 8.30am and sat down opposite his friend with a troubled look on his face.

‘Did you see the report on the breakfast news?’ asked the superintendent.

‘I am afraid so.’

‘The Chief’s furious. Even worse than last night. He hates being made to look foolish, which is clearly what Margaret Hatton set out to achieve. It would help if we can charge Steve Holdsworth. Is he our man?’

‘Honestly, Arthur? No, he’s not but until he tells us where he was, he’s the best we have. Things were not helped when his solicitor advised him to say nothing.’

‘Who was it?’ asked the superintendent.

‘Ledbury, which did not exactly help the situation. I am hoping that a night in the cells might have loosened Holdsworth’s tongue.’

‘And if it hasn’t?’

Blizzard did not reply. When the superintendent had gone, the inspector thought for a moment then strode out of the office with a sense of purpose. He walked along the corridor to the CID room where Sarah Allatt was the only officer present.

‘Where is everyone?’ he asked.

‘Out on inquiries, sir, and the sarge is in the kitchen making a cuppa. Anything I can do?’

‘Yeah.’ Blizzard lowered his voice. ‘I want you to do some checking up for me, but I want it kept on the QT. I don’t want anyone to know you’re doing it.’

‘What kind of checking up?’

‘I want to know everything about Margaret Hatton.’

Allatt gave him a doubtful look.

‘There’ll be hell on if anyone finds out,’ she said.

‘Which is why I want you to be discreet,’ said Blizzard. ‘I’m trusting you on this one, Sarah. I don’t want the rumour mill to get hold of what we’re doing.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Blizzard turned as Colley walked into the room, carrying a couple of steaming mugs.

‘Ah, David,’ said the inspector. ‘When you’ve finished that, we can have another go at Steve Holdsworth.’

* * *

Two hours later and sitting in the stuffy little interview room – Blizzard with his shirt sleeves rolled up, Colley having retained his suit jacket – the detectives were getting nowhere.

‘Come on, Steve,’ said Blizzard wearily. He leaned forward over the table. ‘Do yourself a favour. If you tell us where you were, we can straighten this thing out.’

‘I ain’t saying nothing,’ said Holdsworth. He glanced at his lawyer for reassurance.

‘My client has gone through this numerous times already,’ said Ledbury, a weasel-faced man with sallow cheeks and thin lips and sharply dressed in a black suit. ‘He has reasons for keeping confidential his whereabouts. Frankly, Chief Inspector, I do not see that he has to tell you anything.’

‘Yes, but it does not look good for him if he keeps quiet,’ said Blizzard. ‘Can’t you see that?’

‘Regardless of where he was, you have nothing to suggest that he murdered his son. Your case is extremely weak and a couple of unsubstantiated incidents several years ago does not mean that he is a murderer.’

‘Yes, but unless he tells me–’

‘I suggest that you charge him or release him,’ said the solicitor. ‘Because my client will not utter a further word.’

‘Pha!’ exclaimed Blizzard.

He stood up, sending his chair crashing backwards, and stalked furiously from the room. Ledbury watched as Colley picked up the chair.

‘I take it my client is free to go?’ asked the lawyer.

‘What do you think?’ said the sergeant.

‘I am at somewhat of a loss about what to think,’ said Ledbury. ‘Your boss seems to be grasping at straws, Sergeant. Not his style at all, I would venture to suggest.’

Colley did not reply but walked from the room. In the corridor, he found Blizzard leaning against the wall, a dark expression on his face. The sergeant knew that expression, it was the one which the inspector’s face assumed when he was not in control of a situation.

‘Sorry,’ said Blizzard.

‘There’s no need to apologise,’ said Colley. He closed the interview room door so that Holdsworth and his solicitor could not overhear their conversation. ‘Especially not to a lowly sergeant.’

‘Yes, there is, David. I shouldn’t have lost it. If he keeps this up, we will have no option but to let him go.’

Colley hesitated.

‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ he ventured eventually. ‘Maybe he’s not guilty.’

He watched his boss with trepidation, not sure if the comment would elicit an explosion of anger. It didn’t.

‘Maybe he’s not,’ admitted Blizzard. ‘There may be a perfectly innocent explanation for his absence. Maybe he’s been having an affair and does not want his wife to find out.’

‘Maybe he has, but if that’s the case, surely now is the time to tell us?’

‘You’d think.’

The inspector’s mobile phone rang. He took the call, listened for a moment then slipped the phone back into his pocket.

‘Maybe this will throw some light on the situation,’ he said. ‘Glenda Rutherford wishes to see us. Says she has something important to tell us. Do you know, I have been to church more times in the