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Authors: Stuart Pawson
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knew what I reckoned, but I wasn’t admitting it, yet.
‘Check it all out,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what they turn up at the squat – a gun would be nice. Talk to the brother-in-law, get the receipts. Then let’s have a look at Jim and Mary in Wandsworth and the doctor down there. Have a word with traffic. Try to arrange for someone local to get a receipt for a breakfast from the cafe-near-the-wall-by-the-silverstream-under- the-trees -by-the-flyover. Could be worse. It could have been in Welsh.’
Maggie was in the office. ‘It’s on your desk,’ she said. ‘That was quick.’
‘We don’t mess about. When are we going to have a word with him?’
‘Darryl?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Not yet,’ I told her. ‘I want to concentrate on the doctor job, if you don’t mind. Makinson will be back on the second, and I’ve a feeling he’s not going to be pleased with what I have to say. Maybe we’ll go for Mr Buxton when the debris has fallen to the ground, eh?’
‘What about tomorrow? We could get him then.’ ‘Tomorrow, Maggie, is a bank holiday. I suggest we all have the day off. What’s good enough for Mr Makinson is good enough for the rest of us.’
‘Blimey!’ she exclaimed. ‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing.’
‘Well just keep your fingers crossed that our Darryl doesn’t strike again.’
‘I never thought of that. Do you think he might?’
‘I doubt it. Hopefully this was a one-off.’ I wondered if I was making a mistake. Maybe we should put the scarers on him as soon as possible. ‘Have you an Almanac handy?’ I asked. ‘There is one avenue we can try.’
Maggie fetched it from where it hung on a piece of string from a nail in the notice board. I thumbed through it after studying the map and dialled a number.
‘Pendle Police Headquarters,’ a voice sang in my ear. ‘Good morning,’ I said. ‘Could you please put me through to DI Drago at Burnley Padiham Road CID.’
‘Putting you through.’
After the usual beeping and clicking a voice said: Tadiham Road CID. DI Smith speaking.’
I said: ‘Hello. This is DI Charlie Priest at Heckley CID. Is DI Drago available, please?’
‘Drago? DI Drago? Sorry, Mr Priest, I’ve never heard of him.’
I looked at the date on the front of the Almanac. It was eight years old. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘He must have moved on. Doesn’t time fly? Peter Drago owed me a favour and I was calling it in. We were at the Academy together a long time ago, and one night I saved him from a six-foot bald-headed nympho-maniac. I wonder if you can help me. How’s your local knowledge?’
‘Not brilliant, I’m afraid. Only been here three weeks. I was at Chester before that.’
‘Right. Well, I’d be very grateful if you could make a few enquiries on my behalf with your intelligence officer or any other local men.’
‘I’ll see what we can do, Mr Priest.’
‘Good. Thanks. We are about to have a talk with a character called Darryl Buxton, about an alleged rape on Christmas Eve. He has no form, but we think he may have come from Burnley. If I give you his description do you think you could see if he’s known to anyone, please?’
‘You mean, informally?’
I winked at Maggie. ‘Yes, informally. Just between ourselves.’
He told me that I wouldn’t be able to use it and I said yes, I was aware that I wouldn’t be able to use it, and he eventually said he would, so I gave him the description. Computers are good for storing information, but there are some things you just daren’t put on them. I wanted to know if there was anything like that for Darryl Buxton. All’s fair in love and law.
‘What was all that about?’ Maggie asked as I replaced the handset. ‘What’s Burnley got to do with it?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I replied, settling back in the chair. ‘It all started in the First World War.’
The East Lancashire Regiment was in the thick of it. In 1914 they recruited locally: men from one town, or one street,
‘Check it all out,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what they turn up at the squat – a gun would be nice. Talk to the brother-in-law, get the receipts. Then let’s have a look at Jim and Mary in Wandsworth and the doctor down there. Have a word with traffic. Try to arrange for someone local to get a receipt for a breakfast from the cafe-near-the-wall-by-the-silverstream-under- the-trees -by-the-flyover. Could be worse. It could have been in Welsh.’
Maggie was in the office. ‘It’s on your desk,’ she said. ‘That was quick.’
‘We don’t mess about. When are we going to have a word with him?’
‘Darryl?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Not yet,’ I told her. ‘I want to concentrate on the doctor job, if you don’t mind. Makinson will be back on the second, and I’ve a feeling he’s not going to be pleased with what I have to say. Maybe we’ll go for Mr Buxton when the debris has fallen to the ground, eh?’
‘What about tomorrow? We could get him then.’ ‘Tomorrow, Maggie, is a bank holiday. I suggest we all have the day off. What’s good enough for Mr Makinson is good enough for the rest of us.’
‘Blimey!’ she exclaimed. ‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing.’
‘Well just keep your fingers crossed that our Darryl doesn’t strike again.’
‘I never thought of that. Do you think he might?’
‘I doubt it. Hopefully this was a one-off.’ I wondered if I was making a mistake. Maybe we should put the scarers on him as soon as possible. ‘Have you an Almanac handy?’ I asked. ‘There is one avenue we can try.’
Maggie fetched it from where it hung on a piece of string from a nail in the notice board. I thumbed through it after studying the map and dialled a number.
‘Pendle Police Headquarters,’ a voice sang in my ear. ‘Good morning,’ I said. ‘Could you please put me through to DI Drago at Burnley Padiham Road CID.’
‘Putting you through.’
After the usual beeping and clicking a voice said: Tadiham Road CID. DI Smith speaking.’
I said: ‘Hello. This is DI Charlie Priest at Heckley CID. Is DI Drago available, please?’
‘Drago? DI Drago? Sorry, Mr Priest, I’ve never heard of him.’
I looked at the date on the front of the Almanac. It was eight years old. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘He must have moved on. Doesn’t time fly? Peter Drago owed me a favour and I was calling it in. We were at the Academy together a long time ago, and one night I saved him from a six-foot bald-headed nympho-maniac. I wonder if you can help me. How’s your local knowledge?’
‘Not brilliant, I’m afraid. Only been here three weeks. I was at Chester before that.’
‘Right. Well, I’d be very grateful if you could make a few enquiries on my behalf with your intelligence officer or any other local men.’
‘I’ll see what we can do, Mr Priest.’
‘Good. Thanks. We are about to have a talk with a character called Darryl Buxton, about an alleged rape on Christmas Eve. He has no form, but we think he may have come from Burnley. If I give you his description do you think you could see if he’s known to anyone, please?’
‘You mean, informally?’
I winked at Maggie. ‘Yes, informally. Just between ourselves.’
He told me that I wouldn’t be able to use it and I said yes, I was aware that I wouldn’t be able to use it, and he eventually said he would, so I gave him the description. Computers are good for storing information, but there are some things you just daren’t put on them. I wanted to know if there was anything like that for Darryl Buxton. All’s fair in love and law.
‘What was all that about?’ Maggie asked as I replaced the handset. ‘What’s Burnley got to do with it?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I replied, settling back in the chair. ‘It all started in the First World War.’
The East Lancashire Regiment was in the thick of it. In 1914 they recruited locally: men from one town, or one street,
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