Jack didn’t hear Ridley say his name the first time.
‘Jack!’
He slammed the file shut on his desk and looked up. An elderly man — early seventies — was standing next to Ridley, leaning on a cane.
‘For your benefit, Jack, as you missed the opening of the briefing, this is retired DS Bill Thorn from Aylesbury. He’s kindly agreed to help us with some background information as he was part of the investigating team on the mail train robbery and knew Norma Walker, last occupant of Rose Cottage.’
Jack smiled his ‘hello’, as Ridley gave Bill the floor.
‘I chatted with DI Prescott first and he directed me your way — this could be one hell of an open case you’ve picked up.’ Bill Thorn was clearly a copper to his very core. He was in his element at the front of Ridley’s squad room, all eyes on him. ‘I worked with Norma in the mounted division till I moved to CID in the late nineties — but it’s 1995 that you need to hear about. Bottom line is, I don’t know anything about your murder, DCI Ridley — but I think I know plenty about your money. Back in ’95, Aylesbury had the biggest train robbery this country’s ever seen. As you already know, £27 million was taken from a mail train by a gang of masked gunmen. It was bloody smart, I can tell you. One was on horseback, posing as a mounted officer, and there was definitely one in a speedboat on the lake next to the tracks, ’cos the two train guards distinctly recalled hearing the engine. They all disappeared like ghosts. But it had to have been a decent sized gang based on the sheer volume of cash. I mean, a million is a fair weight, so twenty-seven million would need some muscle to shift it and hide it in less than forty minutes. That’s how long they had before we started closing all the main roads into Aylesbury. And we were searching properties by the early hours of the following morning.’
‘How well did you know Norma Walker?’ Jack asked.
‘She wasn’t the armed robber on horseback, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Bill was adamant. ‘Norma was as honest as they come. I think someone took advantage of her property, nothing more than that.’ He paused. ‘May she rest in peace. Cancer’s a bloody horrible way to go.’
Jack flinched, but pushed on. ‘Took advantage in 1995 when Norma still lived there, or took advantage once it became empty after she died?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Bill said. ‘But I can tell you, whatever happened, and whenever it happened, Norma was not involved with the mail train robbery.’
Despite Bill’s vehemence, every member of Ridley’s team noted down Norma as a potential suspect for the armed, mounted rider who had brought the train to a halt so that it could be robbed. She was an experienced horsewoman, and she lived on the spot, so it didn’t make sense to rule her out.
Oblivious, Bill continued. ‘Imagine... imagine if you’ve found where they hid the cash from that train robbery after 24 years!’
The room didn’t quite share Bill’s enthusiasm. It seemed too unlikely that train robbers would have left the stolen millions untouched for so long — especially in the cottage of an ex-copper who ‘allegedly’ was as honest as they come.
Ridley politely humoured the ex-copper. ‘Who were your suspects at the time, Bill?’
‘We didn’t have any firm suspects if I’m honest. We pulled in all the local names, but it was none of them. We raided all the local properties within hours. The first place we went was The Grange — that was the big old manor house that stood on what’s now the housing estate. We had to go there first ’cos it was occupied by a bunch of ex-cons, but it wasn’t them either. They were all women. When we knocked ’em up in the early hours, they were in their nightdresses, and we woke a load of kids, too. There’s a lot about those women in the files DI Prescott’s sent you. The cops — not my division, mind you — but the cops made a fair few mistakes back then. They raided The Grange numerous times on nothing more than rumours. They accused those women of stashing guns on one occasion. Oh, DCI Craigh was certain he’d got ’em bang to rights, but he hadn’t. Sure, they were all ex-cons but, according to Norma, they were on the up-and-up. Starting a kids’ home or something, and I’m far more inclined to believe Norma than Craigh, who I always found to be a bit hot-headed. The only one of them Craigh arrested was Kathleen O’Reilly, and that was on a poxy “failure to appear” charge. And besides, like I said, twenty-seven million in mail sacks is bloody heavy — so a bunch of women pulling it off is fairy stories. They were all investigated anyway, of course. No connection.’
Ridley persisted a little longer for his own satisfaction.
‘Can you tell us anything about Dolly Rawlins? She owned The Grange at the time of the train robbery, didn’t she?’
‘And before that, it was owned by Ester Freeman, who ran it as a brothel.’ Bill laughed. ‘Although if you ask the Neighbourhood Watch crowd from back then, they’ll tell you she ran night classes. Load of old shit. She was closed down as soon as the ages of the girls started to dip below legal.’
Laura couldn’t hold her tongue. ‘Running a brothel isn’t legal, no matter how old the girls are.’
‘You know what I mean.’ Bill shrugged. ‘It was the nineties.’
Blaming the decade for the abuse of vulnerable women was clearly a good enough excuse for Bill, so Laura didn’t say anything more on the subject.
‘So, Ester was a madam,’ he continued. ‘Kathleen, as I recall, was a forger. Julia was... I’m not sure what Julia was. Connie was a prostitute, and Dolly shot her husband. I’ve missed someone, I think. Ester, Kathleen, Connie, Dolly—’
Ridley interrupted. ‘It’s fine, Bill. As you rightly said, it’s all in the files.’
‘Those women didn’t rob that train,’ Bill repeated. ‘It was a smart, savvy bunch of professional men who, I reckon, came from your neck of the woods. I tell you, when you find those train robbers and, more to the point, when you find that missing money, you’ll be a bloody hero, DCI Ridley.’
An additional thought popped into Ridley’s head.
‘Anik, I want you to cross-reference all the sex offenders that end up on your list with known patrons of The Grange when it was a brothel. And Jack, use Bill’s files to locate all of the surviving women from The Grange.’
‘That’ll be a waste of his time,’ Bill interrupted.
Ridley remained polite, calmly explaining that everyone around at the time of the train robbery needed interviewing again, as potential witnesses at least, and so they could be eliminated from the current enquiry. He then swiftly, and very politely, ended Bill’s visit.
‘Thank you so much for coming down, Bill. You’ve been very helpful. May we call on you if we have any more questions?’
‘Please do, sir, please do.’ Bill still exuded enthusiasm. ‘It’s exciting to think I might finally get to see this case closed.’
Ridley nodded at Jack.
‘May I take you to the lift?’ Jack asked, rising to his feet and opening the door.
They walked at Bill’s slow pace.
‘This bleedin’ paint’s a depressing colour,’ Bill sneered. ‘Who chose grey?’
‘Someone who doesn’t have to walk this corridor. The top floor’s painted sky blue.’
‘Course it is! Sky blue for the suits upstairs, depression grey for the workers down here. You’re not from London, are you? Your accent’s further west.’
‘I was brought up in Devon. Although I worked hard to get rid of the accent.’ Jack paused. There was something he wanted to ask. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, Bill... but did you see Norma when she was ill, towards the end?’
‘At least once a week.’ Bill looked Jack in the eye. ‘Cancer’s a shit illness, I won’t lie. But you know, even when the outside didn’t look anything like Norma any more, she was still there. She had a wicked sense of humour — even at the very end. Cancer kills the body then, eventually, the spirit. So, you pay close attention and when you see them flagging, you remind them how loved they are. That’s your only job, really.’