The Writers' Circle

Chapter Eight

The doorbell rang persistently as Betty Parker pulled her bright pink dressing gown together; she hurried towards the front door smoothing her hair down and wondering who on earth it could be at 8.30 on a Saturday morning; she wasn't expecting anyone and none of Graham's friends ever came round before noon.
Tentativly she opened her front door a few inches and peered out at the two coppers standing on her doorstep.

'Good morning Mrs. Parker, I'm Detective Sergeant O'Connor, and this my colleague, D.C. Hawkins from Greenhaven Police station, - I wonder if we might have a few words?'

'Errrr, it's a bit early, can you come back later?'
Mrs Parker felt embarrassed at being in her nightclothes, and she wasn't really awake enough to talk to any coppers.
'It's about your son, Graham Parker, may we come in?'
The older copper pushed his foot firmly against Betty Parkers front door as he spoke, preventing her from closing it
'I'm not dressed, please come back later - oh, he is ok isn't he?' 
'I'm sure he's fine ma'am, we'll sit in the car for ten minutes while you get dressed if you'd prefer'
'Thank you.'
Mrs Parker shut the door on the coppers, feeling irritated and wondering what on earth Graham had been up to, wondering why they wanted to speak to her, thankful that her husband Jim was at work until midday; hoping it would all blow over - whatever it was. 
She went back upstairs to shower and dress, rushing around to make herself presentable before the coppers returned.
The doorbell rang again; Mrs Parker checked her appearance, briefly noting that she needed to get her highlights re-done, before going downstairs to let the coppers in.
'Thank you so much for waiting, do come in' invited Betty through clenched teeth and a forced smile.
The coppers made their way through the house and stood in the centre of the lounge, appearing to fill the room with their presence.
'Oh, do sit down' Betty Parker indicated toward the sofa; she couldn't be doing with them standing there in the way. 
'Would you like a cup of tea?'
'Mmmm that'd be nice' grinned DC Hawkins.
'No, sorry, we don't have time thank you ma'am' interjected D.S. O'Connor, glaring at Hawkins.
Hawkins hung his head and stared dejectedly into his lap at nothing in particular. He couldn't understand why the D.S. continually put him down, overriding him at every possible opportunity.
He sighed quietly as his D.S addressed Mrs Parker.
'Now madam' began D.S. O'Connor, 'could you tell us what happened to your son yesterday?' 
Betty shrugged. 'I was at work till about half four, five o'clock, then when I came in I saw him in the kitchen and phoned the ambulance.'
'I see, did he tell you what had happened?'
'No, I did ask though.'
'OK madam, do you mind if we have a look around to see if we can find out how he managed to get so badly burned?'
'Errrr, no, I mean, why are you here anyway, why do you want to look around?'
'The hospital informed us of his injuries, and we have to rule out any third party involvement.'
'You mean someone done it to him deliberately?'
'We can't rule anything out at this stage madam.'
'Oh.'
Betty didn't know what to think - her boy was a popular lad, no enemies that she knew of, and he was big too - who'd mess with him? 
'He was burning some rubbish, I think' she volunteered after a few minutes silence.
D.S. O'Connor rose from the sofa.
'Well, if we can just have a quick look around madam, and if there's nothing suspicious we can inform the hospital that it was simply a nasty accident.'
The two coppers made their way through the house and into the kitchen; glancing around D.S. O'Connor asked Betty if she'd noticed anything unusual when she came home the previous evening.
'Well, nothing apart from the mess.'
'Were there any signs of a struggle, had anything been knocked over, or upset?'
'No, no, I don't think so - just my Graham sitting there.' she pointed to the chair that Graham had been sitting on. 
D.C. Hawkins stepped forward and peered at the chair, taking his notebook from his breast pocket. As he did so D.S. O'Connor shot a cursory glance his way, causing him to rapidly replace it. He sighed heavily wishing that his D.S. would give him credit for his willingness to learn if nothing else.
D.S. O'Connor looked to the back window and out at the garden.
'Has your husband been doing any work in the garden lately Mrs Parker?'
Betty laughed, sarcastically.
'Him? Not if he can help it!' 
'Thank you madam, we'll just have a quick look in the garden - if we may?'
'Yes, yes, go on through.' 
Betty Parker wanted shot of the coppers, the quicker they were finished, the sooner she could nip out down to the sales - there were a nice pair of shoes she'd noticed in Simpson's on her way to work yesterday, down to half price too.

D.S. O'Connor strode down the garden path with Hawkins close behind.
'Right Hawkins, remember that this kid is a friend of the little sod in hospital, leave no stone unturned.'
'Yes sir' replied Hawkins, dropping to his knees on the grass.
'What the hell are you doing?' bellowed D.S. O'Connor.
'Searching sir?' replied Hawkins meekly.
'Get up man, get up.'
'Sir'
Hawkins stood up and followed his boss to the rubbish incinerator. 
'Well Hawkins, get on with it.'
'Sir?'
'Sort through that lot, see what you can find.'
Hawkins obediently began sifting through the ashes at the bottom of the incinerator, not really knowing what he was looking for, but peering intently into the bin just the same.
D.S. O'Connor wandered round towards the shed, kicking small pieces of wood and other debris over with his toes as he walked.
'Ah ha!' 
D.S. O'Connor spotted the axe lying near the shed amongst a few scattered wood splinters..
'Now why would he be using an axe?' he pondered the question for a few moments.
'Hawkins, come over here.'
Rubbing his hands to rid them of the charcoal and ashes, Hawkins rushed across to his D.S.
'Yes sir?'
'Why would the kid be using an axe Hawkins?'
'To chop something up?'
'Exactly Hawkins, now, what sort of something do you imagine that might be?'
Hawkins shrugged. 'Could be anything Sir.'
'Yes Hawkins, but what have we been looking for over the past few weeks?'
'Sir?'
'A murder weapon Hawkins - that's what, and I have a feeling that we might just be on to something here.'
Hawkins looked around, 'It's an axe sir.'
'I know it's a bloody axe Hawkins, it's what it was used for that I'm interested in.'
'Are you talking about the schoolteacher murder sir?'
'Could be Hawkins, could be.'
'But she was murdered with a blunt instrument sir, not an axe.'
D .S. O'Connor sighed. 
'Never mind Hawkins, just carry on searching.'
'Yes sir' replied Hawkins, as he scanned the ground in front of the shed, taking mental note of the large stone and the bricks. 
He bent down and picked up a small piece of splintered hardwood, rounded smooth on one side and proffered it to D.S. O'Connor.
'Thank you Hawkins.'
D.S. O'Connor dropped the piece of wood into a small polythene bag, 'now lad, eyes peeled, is there any more of this around?' 
Hawkins beamed; pleased he'd found something that his boss deemed important to their enquiries.
Hawkins began searching diligently whilst D.S. O'Connor wandered around taking notes.
'One petrol can - empty, one axe - discarded, one incinerator containing ashes, one fragment of wood, and one kid burned'
'Hawkins, I think this one is for forensic, come on, lets be off.' 
Snapping his notebook shut D.S. O'Connor headed back towards the house with Hawkins in hot pursuit where Betty Parker stood impatiently waiting for the coppers to finish up and leave.
'Have you finished?' she enquired of them as they entered the kitchen.
'For now ma'am, thank you, but please do not touch anything in the garden until our forensic team have been.'
'Oh, you mean you're coming back? I have to go out shopping fairly soon.' 
She was not best pleased at the thought of having to stay in for yet more coppers.
'We'll telephone and let you know when they're coming, but it won't be until this afternoon at the earliest.'
'Ah, good, well if that's all?'
D.S. O'Connor smiled politely at Mrs Parker as she ushered him and Hawkins to the front door. 'Thank you Ma'am'

Mrs Parker hurriedly put on her coat as the coppers left - she deserved those new shoes after all she'd been through this morning; her mind wandered momentarily to Graham as she wondered whether they'd done his skin grafts yet. 
They'd told her not to bother visiting until tomorrow at the earliest, so at least she would have time for a good look around the shops and to book her hair appointment. Getting into her car she waved at the coppers who sat in their unmarked car a few yards away and sped off towards town and her new pair of shoes.

D.S. O'Connor leaned back in his seat, and took his notebook from his breast pocket.
'Aren't we going, sir?' asked DC Hawkins.
'No son, not yet, I need to chew something over before we go back.'
D.C. Hawkins sat quietly, expectantly waiting for his boss to continue, feeling pleased with himself for finding the small piece of wood that the sergeant had safely tucked away in his pocket.
D.S. O'Connor drew a deep breath. 'Right lad, what have we got?'
'A clue Sir?'
'Yes Hawkins, we may have a clue - now, what is the connection?'
'The kid in hospital Sir?'
'And?'
'The other kid in hospital, Sir?'
'Come on Hawkins, come on' D.S. O'Connor encouraged Hawkins.
Hawkins scratched his head.
'Errrr, the schoolteacher Sir?'
'Possibly Hawkins - now what else?'
Hawkins sat scratching his head, desperate to please his boss, but his mind was blank.
'Sorry Sir.'
D.S. O'Connor was losing patience with Hawkins, why the force had given him such a slow-witted D.C. to work with, was beyond him. 
He gritted his teeth as he spoke, slowly and deliberately to the young D.C.
'Ok Hawkins, this is what my gut tells me - the kid in hospital with the broken jaw was best mates with this one. Got that?'
'Yes Sir.'
 The first kid knew something about the schoolteacher's murder - that I'm sure of, and given more time we could have broken him, - however, that will come - meanwhile, this little sod gets burned disposing of rubbish, not just any old rubbish mind you, but wood that needed chopping with an axe, hard wood Hawkins, and he wanted it burned to a bloody cinder - hence the petrol - Still with me Hawkins?'
Without waiting for a reply, D.S. O'Connor continued.
'The schoolteacher was murdered with a blunt instrument, which I remind you, has not yet been found; now Hawkins, what does that all add up to?'
Hawkins thought for a moment, mentally repeating D.S. O'Connor's words.
'The piece of wood I found sir, do you think it's from the murder weapon?'
'Alley-bloody-lujah' replied D.S. O'Connor, sarcastically.
'Yes Hawkins, I do believe that it is, we'll get forensic onto it straight away - we could have an arrest within a week.'
D.S. O'Connor took a deep breath and beamed broadly at the thought of wrapping up the murder case, - that would be nice little feather in his cap.
He turned to Hawkins as he fired up the engine, 'Go home and have a bloody bath or something, and change your uniform too Hawkins, you reek'. 
'Sir?' replied Hawkins, blushing slightly as he remembered the hefty curry he'd eaten last night.
'No, not your bloody flatulence lad, you reek of petrol' the D.S. retorted 'one spark and we'll be blown into oblivion'
Hawkins grinned. 'yes Sir, soon as poss Sir' he replied as they sped off down the road and back to the station.

The forensics team arrived at the Parkers' home just as the big match started on T.V.
Jim Parker settled in his favourite chair with a few cans in readiness for an afternoons' entertainment was thoroughly pissed off and told the coppers so in no uncertain manner.
Betty tried to appease her husband. 'It's ok Jim, I'll deal with them and you just enjoy the match.'
'Hmmmpph' grunted Jim. 
He didn't want bloody coppers tramping all over his house and garden, especially in broad daylight and in front of the neighbours. 'Bloody kid, I'll sort him out good and proper when he comes back home', he muttered to himself as Betty led the coppers past him, through the lounge.
'Come through' Betty Parker beckoned the coppers through to the kitchen and out into the garden where they began sifting through the contents of the incinerator bin, bagging up a few small bits of charcoal here and there, after which they started searching the ground, again bagging up a few odd bits of debris.
She watched from the kitchen window, and then shrugged to herself. She couldn't see the point of all this searching.
Eventually, the coppers returned to the kitchen.
'Thank you ma'am, that just about wraps it up' The tall skinny copper peered down his nose as he spoke, 'now, we just need to take a quick look around the house, and in your sons' bedroom.'
'Like fuck you will' bellowed Jim from the lounge, before Betty could answer. 'Sorry' she said, smiling apologetically.
'We can come back with a warrant, Sir.' 
The tall copper addressed Jim.
'Well, sod off and get it then'.
Jim Parker was in no mood for any crap, his team was 3-0 down and his afternoon had been thoroughly disturbed.
'Thank you Sir' the copper called out as he and his team walked through the lounge past an irate Jim Parker, 'we'll see you again soon - with a warrant' 
They continued down the hallway and out into the street with their small plastic bags containing oddments of wood and charcoal debris. 
'Fuckin coppers' muttered Jim as he slammed the lounge door and downed another beer.