Winter Frost

'How long for?'

'That we don't know. She always drifts off to sleep, but he was there by her side when she woke up in the morning.'

'He wasn't covered in blood by any chance?'

Morgan grinned. 'Didn't ask her, guv, but I'm sure she would have mentioned it if he was.'

'We're getting somewhere,' said Frost happily. 'At last we're bloody getting somewhere.'

'There's even more good news, guv,' said Morgan, holding up a computer print-out. 'You asked me to check to see if he had form. He's never been charged, but he's received two cautions for kerb-crawling.'

With a yell of triumph Frost leapt up and punched the air. He jabbed a finger at Hanlon. 'What did I tell you, Arthur? We've got the bastard!'

'Shall I bring him in, guv?' asked Morgan eagerly.

'Not yet,' said Frost. 'We've got suspicion, opportunity and a possible motive, but no solid proof. If he picks up these toms, where does he take them? He can't take them back home. His busty wife is sure to wonder why there's another woman tied up in the bed. He must have another place somewhere, somewhere remote where nosy neighbours wouldn't see or hear anything suspicious.' He spun round to Hanlon. 'Arthur, check on all local estate agents, find out if he's bought or rented anywhere near here.'

'Supposing he used a false name?' queried Morgan.

'No, son. Respectable estate agents always want references, a bank or something, and they'd want an address to write to. If letters with a false name dropped through his letter box, his busty wife would start getting suspicious, tongues would wag and dugs would quiver.' He dragged an empty cigarette packet from his pocket and shook it pointedly. 'Ah, thanks, son.' He took one from Morgan. 'Next, I want a twenty-four-hour surveillance put on him, at least a double team. He mustn't be out of our sight for a single second.'

'That means more overtime,' said Hanlon. 'Mr Mullett won't like that.'

'Mr Mullett will have to bloody well lump it,' said Frost.

'More overtime?' Mullett shook his head firmly. 'I'm sorry, Frost, it just isn't on. We're way over budget now.' He held up the sheet of figures, then saw that Frost was not paying attention and was trying to read upside down the confidential memo from County in the in-tray. Mullett tugged the in-tray towards him and pushed it to the rear of the desk.

'Sorry, Super — I was miles away.' Frost blinked at the overtime figures Mullett was dangling and puffed out a stream of smoke to obscure them. 'If we're already over budget, a few quid more won't hurt.' His brain was whirling. He hadn't been able to read all the memo, but it was saying that, in answer to Mullett's request, County would be sending Chief Superintendent Bailey to Denton. What was that fat sod coming here for?

He switched his ears back to Mullett, who was droning away about everything having to be paid for and money not growing on trees. 'You're not even sure he's the killer, are you?'

'He's our number one, prime suspect,' said Frost firmly. He was their only bloody suspect, of course.

Mullett drummed the mahogany desk top with his pencil. He hated being pushed into making these sort of decisions. 'Surely there's another way not involving overtime?'

'Sure,' said Frost. 'We could wait until he murders a few more, hope someone spots him doing it, then, if the budget allows, we could send someone down to arrest him.'

Mullett was impervious to Frost's sarcasm. He shook his head and again looked at the list Frost had handed him. 'Do we need all these men? Why a twenty-four-hour surveillance? All the murders so far have taken place at night.'

'He picks up his victims at night and dumps their bodies at night, but he holds them somewhere during the day. I want to find out where he takes them.'

'All right. So you follow him and you see him picking up a prostitute. Then what? Do you arrest him?'

'For what — kerb-crawling? We'd have to follow him and see where he takes her.'

The pencil drummed some more. 'No, Frost, I don't like it. Supposing you lose him and he kills the woman anyway? If it came out that we suspected him, watched him collect his victim, but did nothing to stop it, I shudder to think what County would say…' And just the thought of County's reaction made him visibly shudder. Mullett waved the overtime figures at Frost again. 'All of your investigations seem to require an inordinate amount of overtime and I'm not prepared to sanction any more.'

'Without twenty-four-hour surveillance, you can start clocking up more killings,' said Frost grimly. 'He's got the taste for it and he's not going to stop just because you won't sanction the overtime.' Seeing Mullett wasn't swayed by this argument, he played his trump card. 'I shudder to think what County would say if he killed again because you turned down my request.' Frost offered a silent prayer that this would do the trick as he had already sanctioned the overtime himself and would be in dead trouble without Mullett's authorization.

But the suggestion of County's disapproval tipped the scales. Mullett gave a grudging nod. 'All right, Frost, against my better judgement, but you are going to have to scale down the number of men involved. You can't have twelve; six at the very most.'

'Six?' shrilled Frost. 'That's bloody useless. To make sure we don't lose him we need two cars, two men in each. With eight-hour shifts that's twelve, minimum.'

'I don't care what your figures say, we haven't got the man power to spare. Apart from DC Burton, we won't be getting anyone back from County now until Monday. They're needed for the drugs operation.'

'And what about our bloody operation?'

Mullett winced. 'Please don't swear at me, Frost. Six men, maximum, and for four days only, not a second longer.'

Frost stared in disbelief. 'Supposing the silly sod doesn't co-operate? What if he decides to wait until the fifth day before killing another tom?'

'Then it will no longer be your responsibility, Frost, because you will be off the case.'

Frost gaped at him. 'I beg your pardon?'

Mullett twiddled with his pencil. 'County are very unhappy at the way you have conducted your investigations. Too much money expended without any sign of a result, and the suicide in the cell didn't help. Next week Chief Superintendent Bailey is coming down from County and will be taking over the investigation.'

Frost's eyes hardened. 'And you let them do it?'

Mullett clasped his hands together in mock sincerity. 'Believe me, Frost, even though you didn't give me any ammunition, I fought your corner…'

Frost stared at Mullett, not bothering to disguise his contempt.

The superintendent flushed and found the wording on his pencil of consuming interest. 'I fought your corner, Frost,' he repeated, 'but I was overruled.'

Fought my comer? thought Frost. The lying four eyed bastard. That confidential memo he had be trying to read started: 'In accordance with your request…' Mullett had asked for him to be replaced and hadn't the guts to admit it. All right. He'd show the sod. Six men… four days. He'd get it all tied up before fat-guts Bailey could push his stomach through the door.

The curtest of nods to Mullett as he left. Outside in the corridor the doubts crept in. Face facts, he told himself. Mullett was right. What had he achieved? Sod all! He wasn't getting anywhere on any of his bloody cases. He was out of his flaming depth. But sod it, he'd try, he'd bloody well try.

16

DC Burton wriggled and tried to make himself comfortable in the darkened car. He brought his wrist-watch up to his face. Nearly midnight. He yawned, and knuckled his eyes. Constant surveillance duty was taking its toll. This was his third, freezing cold night of watching outside Ashby's house, waiting for something to happen.

He poured the last of the coffee from the thermos and sipped without enthusiasm. He was dying to do a pee, but knew the minute he left the car, the dentist would come roaring out. He chucked the thermos on the back seat and listened to the burble of police messages over the radio, all from people sounding more alert and wide awake than he did. For three nights he had staked out the dentist's house and each night, dead on eleven, the front door would open, an empty milk bottle was deposited on the step then the house lights would go out one by one. Tonight had followed the same pattern.