The Terror at Grisly Park (Quigg 5) Read online

  The Terror at Grisly Park

  Tim Ellis

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  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2013 Timothy Stephen Ellis

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  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Books written by Tim Ellis can be obtained either through the author’s official website: http://timellis.weebly.com/ at Smashwords.com or through online book retailers.

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  A big thank you to proofreaders James Godber and Steve Jones

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  To Pam, with love as always

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  Chapter One

  Tuesday, July 3

  ‘Come.’

  He opened the Chief’s door, but before he could shut it behind him the Chief shouted, ‘Bring DI Quigg a coffee Cheryl, and leave out the strychnine today.’

  ‘Are you sure about the strychnine, Sir?’

  ‘I’m sure. Sit down, Quigg.’

  ‘Have you decided to keep Cheryl then, Chief?’

  ‘For the time I’ve got left.’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘You make it sound as though you’re dying.’

  ‘No, not dying – leaving.’

  ‘I’m not really in the mood for jokes, Chief.’

  ‘Thanks to you, I’ve been promoted.’

  ‘Me? Who’d have thought I’d be instrumental in getting you promoted?’

  ‘Yes, who’d have thought it, but hauling in twelve paedophiles, stopping an international child trafficking operation, and saving those children was a feather in my cap. DCI Blake got a commendation as well.’

  ‘I didn’t know you wore a cap.’

  ‘Also, with a vacancy at Assistant Commissioner level, everybody moves up one.’

  ‘What, me as well?’

  ‘No, not you, Quigg. Officially, you weren’t involved in the operation, otherwise . . .’

  ‘I still wouldn’t get promoted.’

  ‘That’s right. So, I’m off to be a Commander at New Scotland Yard for my last couple of years, which will boost my pension and give me a comfortable retirement.’

  ‘I’m happy for you, Chief. Who’s taking your place?

  ‘DCI Blake. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Only you and I know about your involvement with the Apostles, but I think I should let Blake know so that she’s aware of whom to thank for her promotion.’

  ‘Okay, but don’t mention the money.’

  ‘Since when have you had any money, Quigg?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Cheryl came in with his coffee; gave him a look of disgust, and left.

  ‘Do you want me to take the coffee with me?’

  ‘I haven’t finished yet.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘They found Emma Potter in a shallow grave. There wasn’t much of her left. One of those bastards talked, so we knew the remains belonged to her. They tortured and raped her before they killed her.’

  ‘They should bring back capital punishment.’

  ‘Anyway, a parting gift. I have another case for you.’

  ‘When are you leaving, Chief? I thought you’d be here for at least another month.’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow! I see. Well, I was expecting something a bit more substantial as a leaving gift than just another case.’

  ‘You’re meant to give me a leaving gift not the other way round.’

  ‘Oh yeah . . . It’s in the post.’

  ‘I guessed it would be.’

  ‘So, what’s this other case you’ve got for me?’

  ‘You’ve heard of Grisly Park?’

  ‘The horror theme park in South Acton?’

  ‘Except that it’s a bit more than a theme park. Well, apparently there was a multiple murder in the early hours of this morning and remains have been found.’

  ‘You’re confused, Chief. We’re in Hammersmith, South Acton is covered by Ealing.’

  ‘The Commissioner wants you to deal with it.’

  ‘Is this my punishment for exposing his Assistant as a paedophile?’

  ‘No, Quigg. You should be flattered. He calls on you when he has complex cases. And not only that, you’ll be reporting directly to the newly promoted Commander at New Scotland Yard – me.’

  ‘I’m working for New Scotland Yard now am I? Ah, the penny’s dropped. You want me to solve the case and make you look good in your new post?’

  ‘I’m shocked you should even think that, Quigg. However, if you could do that, and then write a report which mentions me in glowing terms, it would go a long way towards your own prospects of advancement, which as you know are slim to non-existent.’

  ‘Of course, Chief. It’s the least I can do for your inspirational leadership, tutelage, guidance, fatherly concern, and...’

  ‘All right, let’s not get carried away. So, you and Kline had better get over there and start making me look good.’

  ‘When you say, “Remains have been found”, what exactly do you mean – the remains of a body?’

  ‘It’s all a bit of a mystery. I’ll leave Perkins to explain when you get there.’

  ‘Oh well, I won’t say goodbye, Chief. I’ll just say au revoir.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ***

  After pulling Kline from the team she was working with, and telling her to sign out a pool car on her way back, he walked down to Operations to speak to Inspector Nichola Wright.

  ‘I need a mobile incident room.’

  ‘Don’t we all?’

  Nicky was old school. She’d been an Inspector for as long as Quigg could remember – long before him. She was probably in her mid-forties, but looked a lot younger with her short dyed blonde hair and athletic figure. Her favourite pastime now was to make life as difficult as possible for everyone else, but hide the fact behind a wall of sugar and syrup. People often went away thinking she’d been the most helpful and wonderful person in the world, even though she’d made their lives a misery.

  ‘Come on, Nicky. I’ve been given a very important case.’

  ‘They all say that, just so that they can get their hands on my trucks. And don’t think I don’t know what your game is, Quigg.’

  ‘But this time it’s for real.’

  ‘How many do you want staffing it?’

  ‘Would five by okay?’

  ‘Five! Three, and not a penny more.’

  He’d expected her to beat him down to three, which is why he’d asked for five. ‘Three would be good. Twelve-hour shifts, three on each shift with an experienced officer in each team?’

  ‘Where are you taking my truck?’

  ‘South Acton – Grisly Park.’

  ‘I suppose you want a generator?’

  ‘If I’m not mistaken nothing works without one of those.’

  ‘You have to ask for one. This is not a supermarket where you can walk along the aisles and help yourself from the shelves, you know.’

  ‘It would be useful to have a list of the equipment you’ve got available, and then I could just tick the items I need.’

&nb
sp; ‘Yeah, we used to do that.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It was far too expensive. I withdrew it. I’ve received commendations for two years running now for making budget savings. What I find is that if people don’t know what I’ve got, they don’t ask for it.’

  He gave a laugh. ‘That’s a crazy way to run a circus. How do I know what I need if you don’t tell me what you’ve got?’

  ‘You should come prepared. Do your homework. I’m not going to do your job for you. I only mentioned the generator because I’m feeling in a particularly good mood this morning, and I liked your eulogy at Walsh’s funeral.’

  ‘Thanks. Surely, it would be a false economy to go to South Acton, and then find I haven’t got half the stuff I need?’

  ‘Ah, but then I’d blame you for not asking for what you needed in the first place – different budget heading.’

  He sat down in a chair and made some notes.

  ‘Are you going to send the truck now?’

  ‘Oh, you want it today? You should have said.’

  ‘Please despatch the truck, plus a generator, and the three operatives as soon as possible to Grisly Park in South Acton.’

  ‘I can do that. Now that you’ve made it clear exactly what you want, of course.’

  ‘Can you send the senior constable to my office, so that I can brief him/her on what I want?’

  Her lip curled up. ‘Nice try. You think you’re going to get the constable to do your work for you. I didn’t hatch from an egg yesterday, you know. People come down here and try all sorts of ruses. Seen it all, heard it all, and damn well sabotaged it all. I’ll send her up, but don’t think she’s going to tell you anything. I’ve trained my people well, Quigg.’

  ‘Whatever happened to inter-departmental co-operation?’

  ‘You obviously didn’t read the Chief’s email on that. He said we were to give the outward impression that we’d bought into it, but under no circumstances was it to happen in reality – far too expensive.’

  He shook his head. He made it a policy never to read emails if he could just delete them. ‘Oh well, I just hope they’ve got everything when they get there.’

  ‘Yes, people often rely on dumb luck, rather than planning and preparation. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Nicky. It would appear I’ve got everything I’m going to get.’

  ‘Excellent. Please feel free to come back to Inspector Wright’s Emporium any time.’

  He stood up and made to leave. ‘Oh, who’s the senior constable you’re sending up?’

  ‘Angela Coveney, and the other two you’ll get are Helen Hanson, and Stephanie Amies – all good girls, so keep the mouse in the house, Quigg.’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘As I said, I know all about you. I probably know some things about you that you don’t even know about you.’

  ‘We’ll have to compare notes sometime.’

  ‘Never gonna happen.’

  ***

  He was sitting in his office waiting for Kline, and thinking about his life – the changes, and the things that had remained the same. They were bouncing around in his head like charged electron particles. First, there was the death of Heather Walsh. He was going to miss her. After finally finding someone he could work with, she was cruelly snatched away. Now, he had the crazy Tallie Kline who – if the files in his drawer were anything to go by – came with her own baggage.

  Then there was his mum going on a round-the-world-cruise with her friend Maggie Crenshaw for nine months! He shrugged. Why shouldn’t she? It would probably do her the world of good. He needed to push through the sale of her newly-built house, so that she had money to spend on her travels.

  Next, there was the Chief leaving. Chief Superintendent Walter Bellmarsh had been his nemesis for as long as he’d been at Hammersmith. What would he do without the Chief? The new Chief – Joanna – was a woman, and he’d never worked for a woman before – he wasn’t very good with women. She’d been promoted out of the Vice Squad after the operation to catch the group of paedophiles called the Apostles.

  Detective Sergeant Jones had been sacked, and Monica – the Chief’s secretary – had also been given her marching orders. Using confidential personnel records to find out information about people was definitely frowned upon in the police force.

  His home life was still a chaotic mess. Ruth and Duffy’s babies were due mid-September, but because Edie Golden had been murdered by Sir Peter Langham from the Apostles they now had Quigg’s twins – Lily Rose and Dylan – living with them on a permanent basis. All he could think of to explain his complex home life was that he must have been really bad in a previous life. There was also Lucy trying to have sex with him every chance she could get, and the five million pounds she’d hidden away in case they needed to circumvent the law to bring criminals to justice again.

  Because the Apostles were no longer a threat he’d cancelled the security, and flung open the gates of the modified St Thomas’ Church on Godolphin Road in Shepherd’s Bush where he lived with his extended family. Living in a self-imposed prison wasn’t really much fun. Now, they could pretend to be normal people.

  Then, of course, there was his ex-wife Caitlin – where the hell was she? It had been five months now since he’d seen his daughter Phoebe. Where had Caitlin taken her? He’d have to go and see his solicitor – and sexual role-playing partner in lieu of payment – Celia Tabbard, to see what he could do about getting Phoebe back. No doubt, for her help, he’d have to involve himself in another role-playing game.

  Mandy the seventeen year-old trainee administrative assistant with numerous piercings in her left ear, her nose, her bottom lip and her belly button barged into his office. She had changed her hair from bright green to a French mustard colour.

  ‘Spector Quigg!’ she said through the chewing gum. ‘I thought you’d run off to Arctica.’

  ‘No, still here, Mandy. And it’s either Antarctica or the Arctic. One is at the South Pole, and the other is at the North Pole.’

  ‘If you’d been my geography teacher I might know which is which. Ya know what?’

  ‘Go on, I’m all ears?’

  ‘I was sorry to hear about Hevver, she was really nice.’

  ‘Thanks, Mandy. Good of you to say so.’

  ‘An’ I think I’m gonna be a ‘tective like Hevver. Do ya think I could if I wanted to?’

  ‘Anybody can be anything they want to if they put their mind to it. You’d have to work hard, go to university, take lots of exams.’

  ‘Really? I s’pose I could, maybe. Would you help me?’

  ‘With which bit?’

  ‘All of it.’

  ‘How many A Levels do you have?’

  ‘None. Everybody said I was more suited to working wiv me hands.’

  ‘You’ll need to sign up at night school for at least three A Levels.’

  ‘Mmmm, I’ll give it some more thought.’

  She began to leave.

  ‘What did you originally come in for, Mandy?’

  She giggled. ‘Oh yeah, I got a postcard.’

  ‘I’m very pleased for you. Is it from anywhere nice?’

  ‘It ain’t for me, it’s for you from that ‘A’ in Canada. Those triples are really gettin’ big now. Who’s A?’

  He held out his hand. ‘Thank you, Mandy.’

  ‘Is Canada anywhere near France?’ she asked as she passed the postcard over.

  ‘Not far away.’

  ‘Cheryl’s baby is due in September. You gonna be there when she grunts it out?’

  ‘Grunts it out? What type of language is that?’

  ‘It’s what they do ain’t it? I seen ‘em on the telly grunting like pigs afore the porker drops out.’

  ‘No, I won’t be at the birth. I don’t think Cheryl would want me there.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what she told me. Said you were a person non grat as far as she was concerned.’r />
  Correcting her English usage, he felt, would be like pissing into a gale force wind, so he didn’t bother.

  ‘Have a nice day, Mandy.’

  ‘You too, ‘Spector. Guess I’ll see you around.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’

  As the door to his office closed he looked at the card. Yes, the “triples” were certainly getting big. He turned it over and read the message:

  Evie, Ava and Noah say hello.

  You didn’t keep your loved ones close, sorry.

  Terror awaits you!

  Ring me: 306-692-7375.

  He’d better take notice of her warning this time. As he picked up the phone, Kline burst in. He let the receiver fall back in its cradle.

  ‘Bout fucking time. I hate working for women. Talk about fucking hormonal.’ She paced up and down in front of his desk. As his office was only a cubicle, she could go from left to right in one and a half paces before she had to turn around. ‘Do this, do that, I’ve changed my fucking mind. God, women are a lot worse than men, you know.’

  ‘Good morning, Kline.’

  Her golden brown hair had been tied in a ponytail – not at the back of her head, but on the top so that the hair cascaded over her shoulders.

  ‘Yeah, so what we got?’

  ‘Why aren’t you wearing a bra?’

  She looked down at the nipples protruding through her tight thin top and laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I was wearing one, but I took it off.’

  He didn’t want to look, but he wasn’t made of stone. She looked really hot this morning. ‘Let me guess, you took it off so that you could get the car you wanted in the car pool?’

  ‘And I did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Wait ‘till you see.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not that Porsche Boxster again, is it?’