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) 📕

‘Eleven thirty last night,’ she said. ‘Same man. He said that I had been warned. I am here because I need protection, Chief Inspector.’

‘Well, you’ll not get it from us.’

‘But–’

‘No buts. Frankly, I’m not surprised you have received death threats. Your use of the media has stirred up strong emotions and made life very difficult for me and my team. How the hell can we conduct our inquiries if everywhere we go there are people waving placards and reporters sticking their noses in?’

‘The public has a right to know these things.’

‘Not if it jeopardises my investigation, they don’t,’ said Blizzard. ‘To be brutally honest, I’m sick of you and your games. I have a good mind to charge you with perverting the cause of justice.’

‘That’s an outrageous thing to say!’ she exclaimed.

‘It’s not as outrageous, might I suggest, as colluding with a known villain who you are well aware is of interest to the police.’

She looked at him uneasily.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.

‘Ah, but I think you do,’ said Blizzard. ‘Tell her, Sergeant.’

‘We believe that someone tipped Bob Lennox off that we were going to raid The Manor last night,’ said Colley. ‘According to a couple of the drug dealers we arrested, Bob received a phone call a few minutes before we arrived.’

‘Well, that’s nothing to do with me.’

‘The dealers said the call came from a well-spoken woman.’

‘You do not have a very high opinion of the women in your city, Sergeant,’ said Hatton with a slight smile. She had recovered her composure. ‘Surely, you are not suggesting that I am the only well-spoken woman in Hafton?’

‘No, but you were probably the only one who knew about the raid. See, a mate of mine is a reporter on the local radio station and his duties include carrying out interviews for the Sunday morning religious affairs show.’

Hatton looked uncomfortable.

‘Last night, he rang me,’ continued the sergeant. ‘He said that he was due to record an interview with you for tomorrow morning’s programme and that I might wish to listen. He said that he had planned to record the interview last night but had to reschedule it because he had to cover the raid on The Manor. He says he rang you on his way to the estate to tell you.’

Hatton did not reply but the concern was clear on her face.

‘So, you see,’ said Blizzard, taking over the attack. ‘We think you knew that Bob was on The Manor and rang him to tip him off. Fortunately for us, he could not alert all his mates in time but he did manage to get away, as did his son. If we can make that stick, I am sure the CPS would happily take the prosecution forward. Care to enlighten us as to why you would do something that stupid?’

‘I didn’t mean any harm,’ she said. ‘I acted for the best. We can’t afford any bad publicity while the hostel is still open. Bob being arrested could ruin everything.’

‘Not your decision to make, Margaret,’ said Blizzard. ‘Besides, Bob could still be in the frame for the murder of Glenda Rutherford and the attack on Jacob Reed.’

‘But I thought the vicar did that.’

‘Who knows?’ said Blizzard. ‘But one thing I do know is that you’d better be extremely careful about what you say and do next.’

Five minutes later, Colley ushered Margaret Hatton out of the building then headed for the inspector’s office where Blizzard was sifting through reports.

‘What do you want to do about the death threats?’ asked the sergeant.

‘What death threats?’ snorted Blizzard. ‘I don’t think they happened.’

‘But we should check it out, surely?’

‘You can check with the hotel if you like, David, but I’ll put money on the fact that it’s just another attempt to play the victim card to stop us prying too closely into her affairs. It’s the way she plays the game.’

‘I’ll check anyway,’ said Colley.

‘Knock yourself out.’

Colley returned a few minutes later with a rueful look on his face.

‘The hotel has no record of either of the calls,’ said the sergeant. ‘You’re right.’

‘Always,’ said Blizzard.

* * *

The duty manager at St John’s hostel looked at the dishevelled young man who had presented himself at the front desk that morning.

‘I can’t just book you in,’ she said. ‘You need to have been referred by someone.’

‘My probation officer said you’d take me,’ said the young man. ‘But he’s not back in work until Monday.’

‘Well, I can’t really–’

‘He suggested I come here because he knows that I have recently seen the light. The Lord has come into my life. I really want to turn things around. My probation officer said you could help me.’

The duty manager looked at the way the young man’s face had lit up.

‘Look, I’ll make an exception for you,’ she said. ‘But just this once and only until Monday when we can talk to him. And you’re welcome to attend one of our services tomorrow.’

‘Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,’ said the young man.

‘Excellent.’ She reached for a pen and a piece of paper. ‘Now then, what’s your name?’

‘Chaz,’ he said. ‘Chaz Gray.’

Chapter twenty-eight

The Henry Sanders who faced the detectives in the interview room later that morning was very different to the man that they had expected to see, given what he had gone through. The vicar had been discovered locked in a squalid ground floor flat, sprawled among old newspapers, burger boxes and empty beer cans, his hands tied to a radiator. The doctor at the hospital had confirmed that, in addition to dehydration, he had been the victim of several assaults, which had resulted in a broken nose and two cracked ribs, after which examination he was returned to the police station.

So, sitting