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  “Well, yes that’s fine,” said Jeff. “When and where?”

  “How about tomorrow morning at my constituency office on Palatine Road? Say about ten?”

  “Okay, that’s fine.”

  “Thanks, Jeff. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The following morning, Jeff made his way to Martha’s constituency office for ten o’clock. It wasn’t hard to find once he got to the right end of Palatine Road. There were pictures of her plastered all over the windows. He’d better not tell her he voted Liberal Democrat at the last election and was thinking of voting Green at the forthcoming one.

  Jeff was shown into Martha’s private office where he was more than pleasantly surprised by his host. She had the most beguiling of big blue eyes that the television cameras really didn’t do justice to. He knew she was a forthright politician. He knew that she’d exposed a paedophile ring that had claimed many innocent victims and that she didn’t seem to care who she upset on the way to standing up for a cause. He’d admired her from afar and agreed with much of what she’d said in her capacity as the Shadow Home Secretary. He hadn’t expected to see her as a woman who he could actually fancy.

  “I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger stuff,” said Martha, from behind her desk. Jeff was sitting in front of it with a mug of coffee that her staff had made for him. “And how’s your coffee?”

  Jeff’s coffee tasted absolutely disgusting. It was so bloody weak. “It’s great, thank you. Now how can I help you?”

  Martha described how she’d had a document placed under the door of her Westminster office which had led to her exposure of a paedophile ring earlier in the year. She then showed him the remainder of the document - the bit she hadn’t been able to show anyone so far because it was so explosive. It corresponded with what Jeff had found out in the course of the investigation and it was that connection that lit the fire in Jeff’s interest.

  “This says that a group of individuals has been allowed to get away with grooming underage teenage girls as a way of reducing the underclass of the uneducated who would never contribute anything positively to society,” said Jeff, in complete disbelief of what the words were telling him.

  “That’s it,” said Martha.

  “But this is absolutely disgraceful,” said Jeff. “How on earth has this been allowed to carry on?”

  “Precisely - because someone, and it still doesn’t name who, but some Establishment figure somewhere, has been controlling it all. Whoever that is, has been using these pathetic excuses for men and their proclivity for underage girls to reduce the numbers of the underclass. It’s kind of another form of ethnic cleansing. It’s certainly fascist and evil. And it has to be stopped.”

  “Our investigation has been brought to a close, you know?”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” said Martha, who was liking Jeff more as their conversation went on. He was one of this new style of sensitive coppers that she so liked to deal with.

  “But it was an order from my Chief Superintendent.”

  “Yes, but it wouldn’t have been their decision. It would’ve come from way higher up.”

  “So what can be done?”

  “Jeff, I’ve got an idea but it requires a big ask of you.”

  Jeff smiled. “Why did you choose to approach me anyway?”

  “Because of the way you handled the child murder case last year,” Martha explained. “The poor lad who was murdered lived in my constituency, which means that you do too. I could only observe from afar, but it seemed like you dealt with the matter in an intelligent sane way.”

  “That’s part of the job, Martha.”

  “I know but you looked like the sort of officer I could do business with, as the old saying goes.”

  “Well, I’m flattered,” said Jeff. It was always good when somebody noticed what you did. “But tell me more about this idea of yours.”

  “I’ll need to see the file you’ve collected on this recent investigation into Sheridan Taylor and Hayley Adams. I’ll need the names of the people you’ve been prevented from apprehending.”

  “Aren’t you taking something of a risk? I mean, if this hasn’t been exposed before, it’s for a very good reason to do with their security and the information you received was in an anonymous document which means that whoever passed it on didn’t want to be known. Martha, you’re dealing with Establishment figures that operate in a realm far beyond the world of the ordinary copper like me.”

  “And that’s precisely why I need to stop them, Jeff,” Martha emphasised. “Don’t you see? That’s the whole point of this.”

  They talked on for another half an hour although not just about what Martha’s intentions were. They talked about the Home Office and its relationship with the police, about the police and the way they worked. They also talked about family, children, Jeff losing Lillie Mae. They knew a lot about each other after that conversation.

  “I’m asking you to take a risk too, Jeff,” said Martha. “I mean, I won’t name you or any of your squad but your bosses are bound to put two and two together as to where I got my information.”

  Jeff smiled. “Yes, well if we’re right and this thing is smashed then nobody will bother anymore.”

  FOURTEEN

  DI Rebecca Stockton still hadn’t calmed down from the team having had the rug pulled from underneath them. She didn’t blame Jeff. He was just following orders that couldn’t be challenged but Rebecca had thought about another way around the problem of getting to the guilty like Frank Leadbetter and John Nightingale. Having Leo McKenzie in custody meant something but it was like when they caught the small time drug dealers. It didn’t make a scrap of difference to the drugs trade around the city. Only catching the men at the top would do that.

  She pulled up outside the address they had for Frank Leadbetter in Alexandra Park. She looked up at the small two storey block of flats with its well-kept gardens and tidy hedges. A very acceptable place to live, she thought. Too bloody good for the likes of this evil bastard.

  She got out of her car and walked round to the back of the block. It was fairly quiet at this time of the morning. All the folks who worked had gone already and it was lull between the rush hour and the business of the day getting going.

  Her intention was to take Frank Leadbetter in and force the issue with whoever was trying to protect him. On the way she’d be informing the press so that the job of whoever was protecting him would be made that much harder. She didn’t care about what her superiors thought of her for doing it. Some of them must be part of the problem.

  An outside staircase led up to number four. Yes, this would make her a maverick but so fucking be it. She hadn’t told Joe what she was planning to do. They were all supposed to be on a day off to make up for some of the hours they’d put in during the course of the investigation. She’d left him asleep in bed and she’d take him some lunch back later. Bless him. He was a good man.

  She hadn’t told Jeff about her plans either. She did feel a bit guilty about that. It would embarrass him with Chambers and the like but, in the grand scheme of what she was trying to do here, did that really matter?

  She rang the doorbell but there was no answer so she tried the door handle and to her great surprise it was open. She let herself in and called out “Frank Leadbetter? This is the police, are you in there?”

  The door opened straight onto the lounge with its light brown carpet and dark brown suite. Directly opposite was a door to a hallway and what looked like the kitchen beyond. A tall, head shaved man in a black tracksuit came into the room.

  “Are you Frank Leadbetter?”

  “For the last fifty-seven years, yes. Who are you?”

  “I’m Detective Inspector Rebecca Stockton, Greater Manchester Police,” said Rebecca and held up her warrant card.

  “Congratulations.”

  Rebecca couldn’t get over how so fucking casual he was being. Standing there, as if nothing in the world mattered and nobody could touch him. And tha
t smirk on his face. Urgh!

  “I’d like you to accompany me to the station, Mr Leadbetter.”

  “You’re far too old for me, darling. Do you get my meaning?”

  Rebecca was disgusted as if she’d been wrapped in his filth. “Mr Leadbetter, we need to speak to you about the murder of Sheridan Taylor, Hayley Adams, and several other cases dating back thirty years. Now, are you going to come quietly or am I going to have to arrest you?”

  “Handcuffs? I like a bit of that.”

  “Is that one of the compliance measures you used on your victims?”

  “Darling, I’m not coming down to the station or to any other fucking place with you,” Leadbetter sneered. “Now get to fuck. I’ve got things to do.”

  “Right,” said Rebecca. “Frank Leadbetter, I’m arresting you for the murder of …”

  “You’re wasting your breath, Officer.”

  The second man’s voice came from behind her and Rebecca turned to see a tall, suntanned man in his mid to late forties with a full head of black hair. He had nothing on his feet and was dressed only in aT-shirt and a pair of shorts. He’d clearly just got out of bed.

  He was holding a gun that was pointed right at her.

  “Put the gun down, sir,” said Rebecca. She’d only faced a gunman once before in her career and it had scared her out of her wits that time too.

  “Allow me to introduce myself,” said the man. “I’m Brian Taylor. I’m Sheridan’s father.”

  Frank was as shocked to hear the news as Rebecca. “Brian Taylor? You told me your name was Cliff. You said you wanted a piece of the action and that you knew me through my associates in Spain. You’ve double-fucking-crossed me.”

  “That’s right,” said Taylor. “And it feels good to see you looking scared. It must be what my little girl looked like before you burned her alive.”

  Frank grabbed Rebecca and held her in front of him.

  “Hiding behind a woman police officer,” Taylor snarled. “How fucking low can you get? I did a lot to hurt my family and now I’m going to put it right.”

  “Mr Taylor, please put the gun down, this is not the way to sort this,” Rebecca pleaded.

  “I don’t want him living and breathing in jail even if you could make charges stick against him,” said Taylor. “I want him to burn in the fires of Hell. It’s an eye for an eye, Leadbetter. You murdered my little girl and now I’ve come for you.”

  “I let you into my home,” said Leadbetter. “I didn’t even know you had a gun.”

  “You really are the most useless fucker,” said Taylor. “All you’ve done all your life is rape little girls.”

  “Mr Taylor, I’m asking you again to please put the gun down,” Rebecca pleaded once more.

  “How did you know it was me?” Leadbetter demanded.

  “Your associates, as you like to call them, in Spain speak freely when you offer them enough Euros and speak to the right ones.”

  “The duplicitous bastards.”

  “Yeah, that’s a phrase I’d use. But it’s better to be a duplicitous bastard than someone who rapes and murders little girls.”

  Rebecca suddenly felt the full force of Leadbetter’s strength as he pushed her towards Taylor and made a dash for the door. Leadbetter heard the gun go off but didn’t turn to look. He was halfway down the stairs when he felt the first bullet in his back. The second one went into his head and he felt no more in this world. He crashed in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, lying in a pool of his own blood.

  Taylor sat on the stairs, completely out of breath. He was satisfied that he’d got Leadbetter and revenge for poor Sheridan. He was only sorry that, in the heat of the moment, he’d shot and killed an innocent policewoman.

  Martha Langton made her statement to one of the last sessions of the House of Commons before Parliament was dissolved ahead of the forthcoming general election. She outlined everything in Catherine McKenzie’s file and how it all pointed to a group of men who had all committed crimes against underage teenage girls, whom they groomed for sex and then murdered, were being protected by someone in the British Establishment who thought of it as a good way of culling the underclass of Britain. She boldly and shamelessly named names from Frank Leadbetter and John Nightingale all the way through every name Catherine had managed to gather.

  “Mr Deputy Speaker, this kind of shadowy action by faceless members of the British Establishment cannot be tolerated in our modern democracy. It harks back to an era when people at the bottom of the social scale had no rights and their lives were pereceived not to matter. It leads to men like Brian Taylor taking the law into their own hands and an innocent policewoman, DI Rebecca Stockton, losing her life when she tried to smash the system of injustice. Well, I, for one, will not tolerate this any longer. I demand that the government initiate an enquiry, and I mean before the general election, into how these crimes went unsolved for so long and I’ll be happy to share my information with that enquiry. We owe it to all those girls who lost their lives without anyone taking account of it.”

  In the pub after Rebecca’s funeral Jeff took his pint and went over and sat next to a very forlorn looking Joe Alexander.

  “It’s tough, isn’t it?” said Jeff.

  “You could say that, sir.”

  “I think you can call me Jeff here, Joe.”

  “You had feelings for her too, didn’t you, Jeff?”

  “Yes I did but they were complicated,” Jeff admitted. “If we’d met at a different time or place … perhaps something might have worked properly between us. I don’t know, Joe. It’s always easy to be wise after the event.”

  “Do you worry about whether you’re ever going to be happy again?”

  “I do sometimes,” said Jeff. “What about you?”

  “Well, without sounding too dramatic, it just seems that, whenever I get a taste of happiness, it gets snatched away from me after such a short time. I can’t find anything that lasts. Rebecca and me had only just got started, you know?”

  “Joe, mate, I can’t say it will all work out for you one day because I don’t know and I have a bit of an uncomfortable relationship with the idea of hope. It comes from being made a widower when you’re barely into your thirties. But I will say this. It can happen to others so why can’t it happen to you?”

  “I thought it had happened,” said Joe. “That’s the point.”

  Joe felt like he was getting a bit lost in his own grief. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose your wife and be left to bring up a kid by yourself. But, then again, he couldn’t imagine what it’s like to have a wife so he decided to change the subject.

  “I see that Martha Langton seems like she’d done well,” said Joe. “Scores of arrests have been made. Their protection must’ve abandoned them.”

  “It would seem so and, yes, I think Martha Langton has done extremely well.”

  Chief Superintendent Chambers came over and said she was leaving. She asked Jeff if she could speak to him in the car park.

  “This must bring back a lot of unhappy memories for you, Jeff,” she said once they’d reached her car.

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s not been the easiest of days.”

  “You’ve shown great strength, Jeff, throughout all this awful business with Rebecca. It says a lot about you.”

  “Well, she was a very gifted officer and a close friend, ma’am. But I’ll be glad when I wake up tomorrow and it’s another day.”

  “We’ll need to find a replacement for her.”

  “Are you sure you’ve got the resources, ma’am?”

  Chambers smiled. “Very droll, Jeff. We could, of course, promote from within to the new DI position and recruit another DC?”

  “I think Ollie Wright would be perfect as the new DI of the team, ma’am.”

  “And I agree,” said Chambers. “We’ll work on that basis then. And, by the way, the Shadow Home Secretary has done a very good job with the information that was passed to her and which has now formed p
art of a major operation. You don’t know how she got that information, do you?”

  “I believe it was anonymously passed under her Westminster office door, ma’am.”

  “Jeff, I mean the meaty stuff that allowed her to move forward.”

  Jeff looked down at the ground and said “Information passes through all sorts of channels, ma’am.”

  “And that’s your answer?”

  “I don’t have another one.”

  Chambers smiled again. “Whoever did pass that information to Martha Langton was, on reflection, doing exactly the right thing even if some feathers within our own force have been ruffled.”

  “Then I hope they’re pleased with themselves, ma’am.”

  “So do I because they deserve to be.”

  “I agree, ma’am.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Jeff.”

  Jeff drove home wondering about his life and how he was going to cope with the loss of a second woman from it. He did console himself with the knowledge that so many perverts were now being rounded up and charges were being made against them. At least that could be taken from all this mess even though he wished to God Rebecca had told him what she was intending to do so he could have stopped her.

  His sister Annabel and her son Kyle who live in a flat just down the road from him were coming round for dinner tonight. His brother Lewis and his partner Seamus were also coming. His live-in nanny and housekeeper, Brendan, would be cooking it all and he’d sit down to eat with them too, seeing as he was considered part of the family. It was going to be a lovely evening with his nearest and dearest during which he’d remember Rebecca and the life that perhaps they could have shared.

  He pulled up onto his drive and saw his little son, Toby, waving at him through the window. It made his heart leap. Life had taken a lot from him but it had also given him so much.

  THE END

  But DSI Jeff Barton will be back in “THROWN DOWN” later in 2015.