A Killing Frost - Part 2
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Part 2

'Hearing aid?' she shrilled. 'What hearing aid? What would I want a hearing aid for?'

'Well, you must be b.l.o.o.d.y deaf if you slept through all that crockery crashing down on the floor.'

'I'm a heavy sleeper. I get so worn out lookingafter the baby, I sleep like a log the minute my head hits the pillow.'

'Ah,' nodded Frost. 'I thought there'd be a logical explanation. And what time did your head hit the pillow last night, Sadie?'

'I already have that information,' intervened Skinner, who saw himself getting elbowed out of the investigation. But he was puzzled. He wanted to ask his own questions. The woman was now telling Frost she was a heavy sleeper, yet she had told him that the slightest noise woke her. He checked his notes. 'Just after ten.'

Frost ignored him, his eyes riveted on the woman. 'Come off it, Sadie. At ten o'clock you were still in the b.l.o.o.d.y pub being bought gin and limes by some short-sighted git who thought he was on to a good thing.'

Her eyes blazed. 'How bleeding dare you!'

'I bleeding dare because I know, Sadie. I'm not flaming guessing, I know!'

Her eyes spat hatred. 'All right. So I might have popped out for a quick drink. Where's the harm in that? I slave for that kid. I'm ent.i.tled to a bit of relaxation. A quick drink, then I came straight back. I was in bed by half ten.'

'But whose bed, Sadie?' demanded Frost.

Furiously, she turned to Skinner. 'Do I have to put up with flaming insults like this?'

Frost answered for him. 'Yes, you do, Sadie. You left that poor sod of a baby all alone in the house from around eight o'clock last night until you staggered back home, half p.i.s.sed, still in your glad rags, just before you phoned to report him missing.'

She clawed her hands, looking ready to scratch his eyes out with her long, red-painted finger nails. 'All bleeding lies. I'll have you up for defamation of character. What sort of a bleeding mother do you think I am?'

Frost smiled sweetly. 'I'm a policeman, Sadie, and we're not allowed to use that sort of language, even to a slag like you.' His expression changed. 'Now stop sodding us about. I've got better b.l.o.o.d.y things to do. I've got a rapist to catch and bits of leg to find. I know. I know everything. I even know where your baby is at this precise moment in time.'

Sadie stared at him. 'You know? I'm flaming worried sick and you know!'

'Worried sick? You've been out all night. You didn't give a sod about the kid. The poor little mite was screaming at four o'clock this morning. It woke up your next-door neighbour. He got out of bed, banged on your front door, then when he got no reply he climbed in through the kitchen window.'

'The interfering b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' she shrilled. 'He can pay for that smashed crockery.'

'He banged and shouted at your bedroom door, just in case you were spending the night in with the kiddy for a change. He looked inside. The bed was empty. The kid was screaming and throwing up, so he and his girlfriend took it to Denton General Hospital, from where I've just come. Your baby is there now.'

Sadie dropped down into a chair. 'The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. They break into my house and take my kid. They don't give a sod that I'd be worried sick.'

'I doubt if they thought that was even an outside possibility. Anyway, they said they stuck a note through your letter box, telling you where the baby was.'

She gave a scornful sniff. 'What b.l.o.o.d.y note?' She frowned as a thought struck her. 'Oh - that b.l.o.o.d.y note!' She flapped a dismissive hand. 'They know I never read their flaming notes. They're always complaining about some thing with their lousy notes. They've always got something to moan about - the noise . . . the smell . . . I didn't read it. I tore it up.' She rummaged in the ashtray, found a dog-end and lit up, coughing as she exhaled smoke. 'So all's bleeding well that ends well. Thanks for your trouble. I collect my kid now. You going to give me a lift?'

'A lift to the nick for wasting police time, Sadie. Now tell us exactly what happened last night, and keep the lies down to a minimum.'

She dragged smoke down to her lungs, coughed and spluttered, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 'All right. Forget what I said before. I was so upset with that t.o.s.s.e.r next door nicking my baby, I wasn't thinking straight.' She managed one last drag before the filter tip started burning. 'Any chance of a f.a.g?'

'No,' said Frost. 'They're bad for you. It says so on the packet.'

She flopped down on the bed. 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d! OK. Last night. I put the kid to bed around seven. He went straight off. He wasn't b.l.o.o.d.y crying like those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds said otherwise I wouldn't have left him, would I? I thought I'd nip out for a quick drink. One drink - there and back, ten minutes, top whack! I didn't intend to stay.'

'But you tarted yourself up in your glad rags, just in case?'

'I'm not like you, Mr Jack b.l.o.o.d.y Frost. I don't go out dressed like a tramp. Do you want to hear what happened, or are you going to keep chipping in with your stupid remarks?'

'Both,' said Frost, waving a hand for her to continue.

'Right. Like I said, one drink, straight back - that's what I intended. Anyway, I was chatting to this bloke and the sod must have put something in my drink because when I woke up I was in his bed, it was eight o'clock in the morning and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had gone to work. I didn't have enough money for a cab so I had to wait ages for a bleeding bus.'

'Is that what you charge these days, Sadie?' asked Frost. 'Your bus fare?'

Sadie spun round on him. 'Shut your s.h.i.tty mouth, you ignorant b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'

'Kindly address those sort of remarks to my superior officer,' said Frost, nodding towards Skinner.

Skinner glowered. Was the fool trying to be funny? He thought he heard PC Jordan sn.i.g.g.e.ring in the background, but wasn't sure. All right,Frost All right,Frost, he thought grimly, you'll be laughing on the other side of your face, Sunny Jim, when you know what I've got in store for you. you'll be laughing on the other side of your face, Sunny Jim, when you know what I've got in store for you.

'Anyway,' Frost continued, winding the maroon scarf more tightly round his neck, 'I've got bits of leg to find, so I'll leave you in the capable hands of Detective Chief Inspector Skinner. It's his case, not mine.'

As Frost breezed out there was a knock at the door. 'I'll get it,' he called. 'Probably that bloke from last night, Sadie, asking for his change.'

They heard the door open, then Frost asking, 'SOCO? What silly prat asked you to come here? No, forget it!'

Skinner fumed. He could see the two PCs were having difficulty stifling their laughter.

The bedside phone rang. Sadie answered it. 'Just a minute, you want the fat bloke.' She handed the phone to Skinner. 'It's the hospital.'

Skinner hesitated. He wanted to chuck this case back to Frost. It was now too trivial and time-wasting for a detective chief inspector to handle. But Frost had gone.

He took the phone, which reeked of cheap scent. 'Yes?' he grunted. His expression changed. 'Say that again . . . OK, I'm with her now. Leave it to me.' He put the phone down and turned to Sadie. 'Right, get your coat on.'

She pulled a red coat with an acrylic fur collar from the wardrobe and slipped it on. 'We going to get my kid?'

'You're not going to see your baby for a while, I'm afraid. Social Services have got him.'

Her eyes widened in indignation. 'Social flaming Services? What are those interfering sods sticking their noses in for?'

'The hospital reckon your baby's been poisoned.'

Her jaw dropped. She stared at him. 'Poisoned?'

'His milk had been doctored.'

'Doctored? What do you mean, doctored?'

'You had another child, didn't you? And it suddenly died.'

'A cot death. A bleeding cot death. I found her dead. I couldn't wake her. There was an inquest. They said it was a cot death.'

'One dead baby I'll accept as accidental,' said Skinner. 'But when the other one is poisoned it gets me suspicious. I'm taking you down to the station for questioning.'

'What sort of a flaming country is this?' shrieked Sadie, shaking off the hand Skinner had placed on her arm. 'People break into your house, steal your kid, smash your best china, and instead of getting sympathy you're accused of flaming murder. You wouldn't have treated me like this if I was an illegal immigrant.'

Ignoring her, Skinner signalled to Jordan. 'There's a baby's bottle with milk in it by the side of the cot. Get it. Forensic can have a look at it. And check her cupboards. You're looking for baby milk and salt.'

'Salt?' said Sadie.

'There was enough salt in that child's milk to kill a dozen babies.' He smiled inwardly. Thiswas more like it. Thank goodness he didn't hand the case back to Frost. Attempted infanticide - and on his very first day at Denton. He beckoned to Simms. 'Come on. Let's get her down to the station.'

Police Superintendent Mullett took a sip of coffee and beamed across his mahogany desk at his newly arrived detective chief inspector. 'So glad to have someone of your reputation with us in Denton, John.'

Skinner faked a beam back. 'I'm looking for ward to a long stay, sir.' A lie, of course. Once I get my promotion you won't see my a.r.s.e for dust. Once I get my promotion you won't see my a.r.s.e for dust. He let his eyes flit round Mullett's office with its polished oak panelling. The old log cabin, as Frost called it. The rest of the station was a tip, but Mullett had done all right for himself. Skinner would make certain his own office was done up to the same standard during the short time he had to spend in this lousy division. He drained the coffee from the poncey little cup Mullett had given him and replaced it in the tiny saucer. 'As you know, sir, I'll be travelling backwards and forwards to my old patch over the next few weeks. I've got cases to clear up, court appearances and so on.' He let his eyes flit round Mullett's office with its polished oak panelling. The old log cabin, as Frost called it. The rest of the station was a tip, but Mullett had done all right for himself. Skinner would make certain his own office was done up to the same standard during the short time he had to spend in this lousy division. He drained the coffee from the poncey little cup Mullett had given him and replaced it in the tiny saucer. 'As you know, sir, I'll be travelling backwards and forwards to my old patch over the next few weeks. I've got cases to clear up, court appearances and so on.'

Mullett nodded. 'I fully understand that, but we are extremely short-staffed at the moment, what with people on courses and the uniforms we've had to loan to County for that drug-smuggling operation. The sooner we can have you full-time, the better.'

'Shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks to tie up most loose ends, but I want to get shot of Frost as soon as I can. I met up with him today and I agree with you, sir. The man is useless.'

With a look of alarm, Mullett raised a warning finger to his lips, then hurried across to his office door, opened it and peered cautiously up and down the corridor to ensure no one was in earshot. Back at his desk, he clicked the switch which lit up the red 'ENGAGED - DO NOT ENTER' sign. 'This must be kept absolutely confidential, John. If it got out prematurely . . .'

'Don't worry, sir,' Skinner a.s.sured him. 'It will get out when I want it to get out, and not before.'

Mullett gave an approving nod. He could hardly believe that what he had been wishing for for so long was actually going to happen. 'But what if he doesn't agree to a transfer out of Denton?'

Skinner gave a smug smile. 'He'll have no choice but to agree. I've done this many times before, so I know what I'm doing.'

Mullett sighed with relief. 'It's good to have you aboard the Denton flagship, John. I can see we're going to get on very well together.'

Skinner smiled back. Mullett looked the sort of man he could twist round his little finger. If he played his cards right, he could end up sitting in that very chair behind that mahogany desk. He stood up. 'I'd better get back to my suspect now - the woman who tried to kill her baby.'

'I'm impressed by the way you've got stuck in on your very first day,' said Mullett. 'Veryimpressed.' As Skinner left, he switched off the red warning sign. It would be good to have some one like Skinner in the division to do all the dirty jobs Mullett didn't have the guts to do himself. Yes, this was going to work out very well.

Frost squeezed his car into the only available s.p.a.ce, narrowly avoiding sc.r.a.ping the paint off Mullett's brand-new, metallic-blue Porsche. He mooched across the car park to the rear entrance of the station. He was not feeling very happy. The s.e.m.e.n sample from the rape victim didn't match any known offenders - but perhaps that would have been too easy. And Forensic, while admitting that the severed foot could have come from a hospital dissecting room, refused to rule out the possibility of foul play, which meant he would have to treat it as a possible murder inquiry. And his team was already stretched to the limit now that Hornrim Harry had sent half the force out to catch some other division's drug barons, and the other half were on courses to improve efficiency. The way to improve sodding efficiency was to be on the spot, solving the flaming crimes, not writing poncey essays about understanding the criminal mind. If Forensic had to provide the manpower, they'd flaming soon cla.s.sify the foot as a medical student's joke, he thought glumly.

Ahead of him, Jordan and Simms were escorting a weaselly-looking man they had arrested for shoplifting, who was bewailing his luck. 'I had to do it, officer,' he told Simms. 'I haven't eaten for three days.'

'So what were you going to do with the bra you nicked?' asked Jordan. 'Boil it or fry it with the knickers?'

'It's easy to be funny when you've got a full stomach,' whined the man.

Frost followed them down the pa.s.sage and through the swing doors leading to the lobby, where a frazzled Sergeant Wells was with a frosty-faced elderly woman who was clutching a shopping basket. When the woman caught sight of the shoplifter, she dropped the shopping basket and raised a shaking finger, her eyes wide. 'That's him. That's the man. He did it!'

'Did b.l.o.o.d.y what?' blinked the man. 'What's the silly cow on about?' He moved towards her, but Frost pushed him away.

'Get him to the Charge Room now,' he ordered the two constables. 'I'll sort this out.' He turned to the woman, who was now trembling and panting with fright. 'What's this all about, love?'

She waited until the Charge Room door had closed before answering. 'I'd just drawn my pension. I went down that little alley at the side of the post office and he jumped out, s.n.a.t.c.hed my handbag and legged it. How am I going to get through the week with no money?'

Frost sighed. There'd been a spate of these handbag-s.n.a.t.c.hings over the past few weeks, usually from elderly women. 'Are you sure that he was the man who robbed you?'

'Positive. I'd stake my life on it. I'd know him anywhere.'

'And when did you say this took place?'

'About half an hour ago. I'd just drawn my pension . . . You ask them in the post office.'

Frost held up a hand to stop her. 'It couldn't have been him, love. Half an hour ago he was in Marks and Sparks nicking bras.'

'If he says that then he's lying to protect himself,' she snapped. 'I'm not senile. It was definitely him. Have you searched his house?'

'From top to bottom,' lied Frost. 'All we found were nipple-less bras and crotchless knickers.' He waited in the lobby while Wells found a WPC to make the woman a cup of tea and see her home safely.

'b.l.o.o.d.y, woman!' moaned Wells. 'She's positively identified every face in the flaming mug-shot book. We haven't the faintest idea what the bloke looks like. She's identified men of every colour, any age, hairy, bald, giants, flaming midgets. As long as they wear trousers, she'll identify them!'

'Show her a picture of Mullett,' said Frost. 'If she identifies him, I'll arrest him for you. I suppose no one's come hobbling in saying they've lost their foot?'

'No,' grinned Wells. 'Did you know the new DCI has arrested Sadie Rawlings on suspicion of attempted infanticide?'

Frost stopped in his tracks. 'Sadie? He's b.l.o.o.d.y mad.'

'He reckoned there was enough salt in her baby's bottle to kill an elephant.'

'I can imagine her killing an elephant, but not a baby. She's a long way from being a b.l.o.o.d.y saint, but she'd never try to kill her kid. The man's a b.l.o.o.d.y fool.' He sniffed. The siren call of sausage and bacon was wafting from the canteen.

'I'm off for some breakfast.'

The phone rang. Wells answered it. 'Hold on, Jack! It's the manager from Supersaves. They've had a letter from some nutter claiming he's poisoned some of the food on their shelves.'

'Supersaves? Half their stuff tastes as if it's been poisoned anyway. Send DC Morgan.'

'He's out collecting the CCTV tapes from the multi-storey car park.'

Frost frowned. 'The car park?' Then he remembered. Oh - the rape. Send an area car - it's probably a hoax.'

'Jordan and Simms have just gone out to see the parents of a girl who went missing last night.'

'I'm flaming starving. There must be someone else you can send?'

Wells shook his head. 'Only you, Jack.' Frost took a farewell sniff of the heady fry-up aroma which was trying to Pied Piper him upstairs. 'Sod it! Tell him I'm on my way.'