Chapter Thirteen Conspiracy
Amongst C.S. Wragg’s influx of extra police officers were four motorcyclists. He was glad to receive this new intake who had just passed their initial examinations from the Police Training School. They needed to be flung in at the deep end and what better place to start – the London thoroughfares with all their secrets. The maze of roads and streets in the metropolis were many and each student had to know them off by heart. The training would start by each man wearing plain clothes, travelling on as many bus routes as possible in a week, jotting down the names of the streets and in the evening they would have a memory test. The next phase would be to travel by taxi for three days. Taxi cab drivers were the salt of the earth and what they didn’t know about London wasn’t worth worrying about. Taxi cabs would squeeze down impossible routes to get their passengers to their destinations – on a motorbike it would be a lot easier to chase whoever they were chasing. The observation tests were on the area that each recruit had been that day and they were separated so as not to be able to jog each other’s memory. After a month of oral exams they were told to report to a place in London where another policeman was waiting to hand them an envelope with a route across London. They were given two hours. Leaving their motorcycles behind they had to journey to point B and register as having reached it and journey back, collect their motorcycles and report back to New Scotland Yard. All the destinations were different and they were given their final examination of what they had witnessed along the way. All of the actions along each route had been contrived by New Scotland Yard and the public were to stage different events that would be considered as unusual. The following day they had to take their final exam reporting on the previous day’s events. All the recruits passed with distinction. The following day they were summoned by C.S. Wragg, who congratulated them on their achievements and then he told them to join other officers in the briefing room. There were two crime problems to sort out.
* * *
Wragg hadn’t taken much notice of the names of his new recruits. Perhaps if he had, the trouble that was to lay ahead might have been avoided. Chief Superintendent Wragg was pleased with the new recruits to swell the ranks at New Scotland Yard. What with staff leaving through retirement and postings to other Police Stations it was an ever moving situation that had developed since the new regulations had come into force.
Wragg was disturbed from his work as police officers rushed by his office. The four new members of his team were first to go by, closely followed by Sergeants Dotrice and Stone. Sergeant Stone stopped and spoke to Wragg.
‘Chief we’ve got the killer.’
‘How?’
‘There’s been a traffic incident and would you believe it, Mrs Whip was coming to see you and saw this man trapped in a car between two high sided vans and she recognized him as the man responsible for her husband’s disappearance.’
Wragg was puzzled momentarily and just managed to stop Sergeant Stone from giving chase to the others.
‘Stop the others, it’s a ploy. Mrs Whip never saw the killer. If you remember how she acted when we fished her husband from the wood pile in her garden and if it hadn’t been for the rain he would have been burnt alive.’
Sergeant Stone ran off but soon came back.
‘Too late Chief – they’ve left the building.’
Wragg rushed to his office window and saw four police motorcycles rushing off into the distance.
True enough there had been a terrible road accident. That part of the story was a fact – fifteen cars and one high sided vehicle were involved. The car in question had been squashed almost flat by the large articulated lorry that had mysteriously overturned on top of it and there was no chance of anyone surviving from that. One of the fifteen other cars was rammed up against the driver’s car door which had it not been, the driver of the flattened car might have had a chance to escape with his life.
Wragg arrived to see the carnage and debris that was scattered across the road blocking both sides. Nobody could move forwards or backwards who happened to be in that space of 30 yards in length. Many vehicles were having to make emergency stops and had made their rubber tyres burn to avoid being involved in the crash and some had slid sideways into that area which made it difficult to move them out safely without damage to other cars.
Apart from the smell of spilt petrol and burnt tyres, there was another smell which Wragg had difficulty in understanding why it was there. It was a smell of cordite which was closely allied to dynamite. If the lorry’s cargo was carrying such an item it would make it necessary to clear everyone from that area as soon as possible. Before Wragg pressed the panic button, with the aid of Sergeant Stone and Sergeant Dotrice he prized open the back right hand side door of the lorry which was heavy and swung backwards and forwards as it opened and Wragg and his men had to move smartly backwards to avoid being hit. Wragg peered in the vehicle and it was full of fruit and vegetables that had cascaded all over the inside because one of the restraining belts had snapped. they were just moving away when they heard moans coming from the back of the container. They climbed in and found two men tied up, battered and bruised. Sergeant Stone immediately summoned ambulances, a fire engine and a heavy crane to attend the scene. It was a peculiar situation and the absence of the four motorcycles from the scene of the accident was puzzling Wragg, unless of course they were on the other side of the accident area. It was difficult to see through to the other side as some of the cars had mounted the roofs of other cars because they couldn’t stop in the distance. Wragg noted that this stretch of the highway had a limit of seventy mph and if anyone was travelling at that speed they wouldn’t have had a chance.
Wragg knew who the person was in the car and if he had been a gambling man he would be a very rich man at this moment in time. The absence of the lorry driver and the driver of the car that rammed into the side door of the crushed vehicle were to confirm Wragg’s suspicion that one of them had to be the sadistic killer doing his murderous duty of killing off the Real Steal Company Directors and the betting that Paul Leake would be behind the driving wheel!
Wragg heard the low pitch of the engines of two police motorcyclists arrive at the scene and turned and his eyes showed anger as he approached the two – it was Jameson and Brook.
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’
‘We had a problem Chief – Dodd and Lodge were shunted by a car and we had to attend to them and send for a pick-up to take the bikes to the garage and make sure the ambulance took them to hospital. This car came towards us on the wrong side of the road, banged into them and sped off.’
‘How are they?’
‘Not too bad Chief!’
It was going to be one of those many late hours into the night shifting the vehicles and arc lights were erected both sides of the area and diversion notices were placed so that motorists on their way home would be alerted and make alternative journeys back to their homes. It would be another three days before the road could be opened as it was a crime scene.
The Fire Brigade had a difficult time to cut out the driver of the crushed car. Chief Superintendent Wragg had been right in his assumption that the driver was Paul Leake. His battered body was removed from the wreckage on to stretcher where the police pathologist examined him before he was placed in the ambulance. Simon Crook announced that Paul Leake was dead which seemed rather obvious to Wragg but for legal terms this had to be said and written down and signed by Simon Crook. Simon nodded to Wragg, at the same time placing his stethoscope back into his bag – Simon watched wistfully as the ambulance drove off. He sighed heavily, shrugging his shoulders as he walked to his car. He leaned against it and turned towards the white tent that had been erected from prying eyes as the forensic team looked for clues as to why this accident happened. Dr. Simon Crook opened the car door and chucked his medical bag into the passenger seat before he sat behind the wheel of his car. Bowing his head trying to remember when he first purchased the car how happy he had been with the midday sun shining down and the slight Spring breeze blowing through his hair, how pleased he felt as he had just passed his final examination to become a fully fledged pathologist and his immediate posting to New Scotland Yard. He seemed so carefree in those days before the next generation of what he termed as brutality came along to darken his life.
Wragg watched as Simon Crook drove away from the scene of what was a new experience for the pathologist, knowing the full circle had been reached and that Simon Crook would have to deal with many catastrophes far worse than this road accident if he was to stay in his post at New Scotland Yard. Tomorrow was going to be a harrowing experience in the history of the Yard when half the force were going to bury one of their own officers who had been brutally murdered. Wragg was going to have to polish his shoes and put on his best uniform which had been in mothballs for over a year. The last time he worn it was when he was awarded the George Medal. He realised that he would have to wear it tomorrow and everyone would be aware of his achievement and bravery which he wanted to keep hidden from his new staff. Wragg wondered whether he could somehow find an excuse for not attending the funeral, but as senior officer he would have to read the citation. On his way home he would drop in at the local hospital to see how his other two officers were faring after being hit by a car going the wrong way, presumably rushing from the scene of the road accident.
