Sorcerer (25 page)

‘Similar?’

‘Yes. Not quite the same but very near. Does that help at all?’

‘Oh yes, Gabby’ said Jeff. ‘That really does help an awful lot’. 

It wasn’t until the next day when Jeff managed to get hold of Dominic Power on the line from New Zealand. Rebecca and Ollie were both listening in on other handsets.

‘What can I do for you, Detective Superintendent Barton?’ asked Power.

‘Did you have a good holiday?’

‘Yes, thank you. Bali is wonderful at this time of year’.

‘Well I’ve never been so I’ll take your word for it. Now, Mr. Power, I want to know if you’ve been in contact with George and Mary Griffin in recent months?’

‘No, I haven’t’.

‘Would you like to think again before answering that, Mr. Power’.

‘No, I wouldn’t, now what is this all about exactly?’

Jeff could hear him getting impatient. A reasonable cover for his guilt? ‘Mr. Power, when you went on your jungle walkabout in Bali, what did you see?’

‘Trees, vegetation, a couple of snakes, various other animals, why do you ask?’

‘Did you take any pictures?’

‘No, because my camera developed a fault and the camera on my mobile is pretty useless’.

‘That is a shame’

‘It is’

‘So you’ve no pictorial record of your week long trip?’

‘No, look, will you please tell me what this is all about?’

‘You didn’t go into the jungle, did you, Mr. Power?’

‘I didn’t? Then where did I go?’

‘You came over to the UK’

Power guffawed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I wouldn’t have had the time’.

‘Oh you had the time alright. We checked. There was a flight out of Bali on the afternoon of the 17th to Singapore with a direct connection straight to Manchester. You’d have been here on the morning of 18
th
and you wouldn’t have had to leave again until 23
rd
in order to be reunited with your friends at the hotel the next day. You’d have been pretty tired but you could’ve put that down to sleeping in tents whilst you were in the jungle and trekking all day’.

‘Are you drunk or something?’

‘No, Mr. Power, I’m perfectly sober. You travelled under a different name on a false passport, you abducted George and then Mary Griffin and, probably with a gun pointing at their heads, you made them finally confess to all their crimes before forcing them to take the overdose. You thought that would be a suitable way to end it all. You had it all worked out but you forgot one little thing and this, sadly for you, will prove to be your downfall. You rented the house you’d grown up in. Why did you do that? Why couldn’t you have taken them to some place that couldn’t have been linked to you? That really was a very stupid mistake, Mr. Power, or should I call you Mr. Andrew Price? After all, that’s the name you gave to the estate agent and that’s the name you travelled under. We’ve checked with Singapore Airlines. Then there were the text messages you sent to your friend Mike Hancock, supposedly from the jungle. We’ve checked those records too. They were sent from a pay as you go phone here in Manchester’.

‘Have you finished?’

‘More or less bar a few details that can be gone over at a later stage’

‘Who would blame me?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘If I had committed this outrageous act then, considering what the Griffins had done, could you really blame me?’

‘No, I probably couldn’t, Mr. Power. The Griffins were evil people’.

‘Who left me with my emotions incapable of really loving anyone including myself. But I was lucky. Thanks to my Aunt and Uncle I got out and made a life for myself down here but I could never escape what they did to me. Not where it counts. And if I did do what you say I did then I would’ve done the world a great service’.

‘I’m not doubting that, Mr. Power’ said Jeff, aware that he was this close to getting a confession. ‘But I have to deal with the law. You prevented the law from taking its course and as a police officer you know I can’t let that happen’.

‘So what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that my colleagues in the Christchurch police department will be getting our report and I expect them to be contacting you in due course. I can prove you made the journey, I can prove you were at the house with DNA. I can’t blame you for what you’ve done, Mr. Power. But the law will take everything into account when it deals with your case. It would help your case of course if you did confess. It would probably help your case a great deal if you did that’

‘Very well’ said Dominic. ‘I admit to it all’. Then he hung up.

Jeff put the phone down and breathed out a sigh of relief. There were congratulations all round from Rebecca and Ollie and then the rest of the squad. The conversation had been taped. There’d be no going back for Power.

The next day was Friday and by way of celebration that the case was over the squad all agreed to go down to the pub. Jeff said he’d see them all down there.

‘Are you alright?’ asked Rebecca after the others had gone.

‘It feels like such a hollow victory, Becky. All the sadness and suffering the Griffins inflicted and I really can’t blame Dominic Power for what he did’.

‘I know’ said Rebecca. ‘But he broke the law and that’s what we’re here to sort out’.

‘So why do I feel like a complete shit at the moment’.

‘Well you shouldn’t. You’re being unfair on yourself. Look, Griffin was a sorcerer. He plotted and weaved his evil into the lives of innocent boys who should’ve been able to trust him. He even did it to his own step-son’.

‘And his wife was the sorcerers’ apprentice’.

‘Yes, she was. She was as guilty as her husband. Now I think that Dominic Power did the world a favour by getting rid of the Griffins. But that’s me talking as Rebecca Stockton paid up member of the human race. Rebecca Stockton the police officer recognizes that Power committed a crime. Do you think it’ll be straight forward to extradite him from New Zealand?’

‘Depends on the caliber of the lawyer he manages to get for himself’ said Jeff. ‘Apparently there’s already a Facebook page down there to stop his extradition on the grounds of what Griffin put him through’.

‘And the human being side of me would probably join that campaign’ said Rebecca. ‘But look, there was a case to investigate here, Jeff and that’s what you did because that’s why you’re here and why I’m here. The rest can be worked out by others because that’s their job. We did ours. We played our part. It’s up to others now to complete the picture if they can’.

Jeff smiled. ‘Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll come for that drink’.

‘That’s more like it’.

‘But I’m only staying for one, maybe two. Then I’m going to take advantage of the fact that I can go and pick Toby up from school for once’.

‘Toby will like that’.

‘Yes and so will his Dad’.

‘It’s been quite a day what with the case and the resignation of Chief Superintendent Hayward after what has been in the press about him. They say he could face criminal charges relating to the corruption’.

‘Well he’s brought it on himself’ said Jeff. ‘No police officer should think that they can get away with it’.

‘Oh I agree’ said Rebecca. ‘I’ve no time for corrupt officers’.

‘I’m glad to hear it’.

‘Tell me, just how did you work it out about Dominic Power?’

‘I don’t know’ said Jeff. ‘It was just a thought that stuck and wouldn’t let go. That’s how it’s always been with me and probably always will be’.      

THE END … BUT …

Detective Superintendent Jeff Barton will be back soon in ‘FIREFLIES’. And if you just can’t wait, here’s a sneak preview of the prologue …

FIREFLIES PROLOGUE

The bride and groom checked into the wedding suite at the Manchester Hilton hotel and the groom carried the bride over the threshold. The room had been a surprise present from the groom’s parents and they’d even ordered a bottle of champagne which duly arrived a few minutes after the happy couple did. They’d already drank their own body weight of the stuff all day but as this was a day that neither of them intended to ever repeat, they considered it an obligation to pop the cork and dive right in.

     They jumped on the bed and cradled each other in their arms whilst they sipped more of one the greatest French exports. In a little over twenty-four hours they’d be sipping cocktails on the balcony of their hotel room on the island of Phuket in Thailand where they’d be staying for a week before flying on to Melbourne in Australia to stay with the bride’s Aunt and Uncle. They were looking forward to their honeymoon. Why wouldn’t they be? Apart from the adventure of being in faraway lands a honeymoon was a way for the couple to extend the joy of their wedding day but without the company of all the guests. Their flight left Manchester airport at just before ten-thirty in the morning with a change at Abu Dhabi. They set their alarm and phoned down to reception to ask for a wake-up call. They’d be shattered when they got on that plane but it would be the best shattered feeling they’d ever experience.  

     The room at the Hilton had a floor to ceiling window that offered the most incredible view of their home city that either of them had ever seen. They could see the lights stretching all the way up to Rochdale and Bolton in the north and Salford to the west. They’d bought a house in Salford but they wouldn’t be able to move in for a month so when they came back from honeymoon they’d be staying with the bride’s parents for a couple of weeks until the builders had finished their work. Everything about the joy of living together as a couple bound by love was waiting there in front of them. It was theirs to take the necessary steps to reach their own particular bliss.

     The groom wasn’t a heavy smoker but he did like the odd one or two. He hadn’t had one since they’d been halfway through the dancing at the reception so whilst the bride did what she wanted to do to prepare for her wedding night, the groom nipped outside for a fag. They’d already had sex in a back room of the restaurant in Alderley Edge where they’d held the reception. The groom had still been in his tails and the bride was of course in her wedding dress. She asked him to wear his top hat whilst they did it and it fell right off just at the appropriate moment.

     When the groom got back up to the suite the door was slightly open. He pushed it wider and called out his wife’s name but the fact was he was already a widower. He walked round to the bedroom and there she was lying on the bed, still in her dress but with blood pouring out of the many stab wounds to her neck, face, and other parts of her body. The attack would later be described as ‘frenzied’. Her eyes were open but her soul had left her husband behind. He shrieked with terror and pain. The dreams of two people who’d been so in love had been shattered in such a brutal and sick way. Who would want to do something like this? He slid down the wall and crashed onto the floor. His heart was broken and so was his soul. He began to weep. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop.