Winter Frost

She stamped out, barging into Mullett as he came in, sending him crashing against the door post. Mullett glared his annoyance. 'What was that all about?'

Frost held out the ten pence piece. 'She brought your change back from last night, Super.'

Mullett's expression froze. The man was a disgrace and the sooner he could get rid of him, the better. He was now considering Liz Maud in a more friendly light. If he had her made up to inspector he might be able to get Frost moved on elsewhere. The thought was tempting. But he squeezed out a smile to show he enjoyed a joke against himself. 'What was that all about?' he repeated.

Frost explained. 'She saw last night's murdered tom going off with a client. We're hoping to trace him.'

'You think he could be the killer?'

'No,' replied Frost. 'He turned down the tall torn because she asked too much.'

'So?' asked Mullett.

'If you pick someone up intending to torture and kill them, you don't give a sod about the asking price. You wouldn't be paying it anyway… the poor cow would be dead.'

'So why are you trying to trace him?'

'I want to know where he dropped Sarah off. Her next client could have been the killer and our man might even have seen him.' A thought struck him. 'Actually, Super, you could help us with this.'

'Oh?' said Mullett warily.

'We need a TV and press appeal for this man to come forward. We say we know he's not involved, but his information could be vital to our investigation.'

Mullett mulled this over. The chance of appearing on TV always appealed, and he had his formal uniform in the office cupboard. 'Do we have a photofit picture?'

'No, and if we want him to believe we're going to keep him anonymous, the last thing he will want is his mug shot sprawled all over the telly. Can I leave that in your very capable hands, Super?' he smarmed.

Mullett beamed. 'I'll see to it right away.' He marched out, silently rehearsing his TV announcement, completely forgetting he had sought out Frost to tear him off a strip for not letting his Divisional Commander know the dentist had been released without charge.

Frost turned back to his team. 'Right. First, we're glad to welcome Inspector Maud back. I'll just go over what we've got so far in case she can spot anything we've missed.' He jerked a thumb to the photograph. 'There's our prime suspect. Ashby, the dentist. He's cautions for kerb-crawling, his receptionist, Helen Stokes, was murdered the same way as the other toms, he's two-timing his wife with his new receptionist and he was seen talking to Sarah Hicks the same night she too was abducted. Also, he claims to suffer from insomnia so is out of the house in the early hours which is when the murders have taken place. Lastly, he's got a little black moustache like Mullett. Now anyone with all that against him would have to be guilty.'

'He sounds a cert to me,' commented Liz Maud.

'That's what I thought when we brought him in, but the lousy swine has provided an alibi for more or less the exact time Helen Stokes's body was dumped.' He showed them the service till receipt. 'He never could have drawn the money out, then got back in time to shove her under the meat pie van.'

Liz Maud, who had been studying the service till receipt, raised a hand. 'Someone else could have used his card to withdraw the money.'

Frost stared at her, then grinned happily. 'You're right! His red-headed receptionist could have got the money out for him.'

Liz nodded. 'She uses his card to draw the cash out while he dumps the body. She gives him a phoney alibi.'

Burton looked doubtful. 'But how would they know he was going to need an alibi for that time? It was only sheer chance the fast food van happened to be deserted.'

Frost thought for a minute. 'Supposing it wasn't meant for an alibi at the time. It was only later, after we arrested him, that he realized he could use it as one.'

'The trouble is,' said Liz Maud, 'it's all theory — how do we prove it?'

Everyone went silent, but it was Frost, again, who came up with the answer. 'Wait a minute. Some of these banks have closed circuit TV cameras set up by their cash machines in case someone swears blind it wasn't them who drew the money out.' He jabbed a finger at Burton. 'Phone Bennington's Bank at Lexton and find out if they've got one.'

They waited anxiously while Burton made the call. As he listened, he smiled, then turned to give Frost the thumbs-up. 'Yes, they have.'

Tell them we're on our way,' said Frost, rubbing his hands with glee. 'If it's anyone other than our teeth-pulling friend on candid camera, we've got him.' He was snatching his mac and scarf from the coat hook when Bill Wells came in with a face that telegraphed trouble.

'13 Denton Way, Inspector. Frantic mother on the phone. Her two six-year-old daughters have gone missing.'

Frost went cold. He had pushed the child killings right to the back of his mind. No clues and suspects. He had been hoping the killer had moved away to someone else's patch. 'How long have they been missing?' 'I don't know, Jack. She was almost incoherent and her English wasn't too good. I said we'd get someone over right away. Shall I send an area car or do you want to take it?'

Frost crushed his cigarette under his heel. This sounded bloody nasty. 'I'll take it if you like,' offered Liz Maud.

He nodded. 'Thanks. We'll join you as soon as we've checked the bank's video.'. He sat, slumped, sucking at an unlit cigarette in silence, as Taffy Morgan drove them to Lexton. He hoped that this, at least, would give him some good news.

The manager was busy with an important customer so he instructed one of his female clerks to get the videotapes out for the detectives to view. She was very young, sixteen or seventeen at the most, and wore tight jeans with an even tighter sweater. Morgan couldn't keep his eyes off her. As she knelt to get the tape from a bottom shelf, her sweater rode up as the jeans rode down, revealing the start of an inviting buttock cleft. Frost nudged Morgan who didn't need any nudging. 'I wouldn't mind swiping my credit card down that,' he whispered.

'Pardon?' asked the girl, turning her head.

'Nothing,' said Frost. 'Just hoping we weren't putting you to too much trouble.'

'No trouble at all,' she smiled, straightening up and tugging her sweater back into position, causing a sharp intake of breath from Taffy as it stretched and hugged. 'I've got what you want,' she told them.

'You certainly have,' muttered Frost through smiling ventriloquist's lips. Aloud he asked, 'Does the camera record all the time or only when there's someone using the cash point?'

'All the time, I'm afraid, so we'll have to run it through to try and find the right spot.'

'I'd love to find her right spot,' whispered Morgan as the girl fed the tape in the recorder and fast-forwarded. Smudgy, furtive-looking customers zipped across the screen poking in plastic, jabbing keys, removing money at high speed. A timer at the bottom counted through the hours and minutes. None of the pictures were very distinct. 'I bet the bank paid at least two quid for that camera,' said Frost.

The girl smiled. 'The bigger branches get the best equipment.' She checked the screen and slowed down the tape. 'Ah… this is what you wanted.'

But it wasn't what Frost wanted at all. There, on the screen, taking his money and carefully checking it as the timer showed 00.57, was the dentist.

'Shit,' hissed Frost in dismay. 'We're right back where we bloody started.'

Detective Sergeant Hanlon was waiting in the murder incident room. He didn't look as if he was going to bring the smile back to Frost's doleful face. 'We've checked out most of the known toms, Jack. Very few of them were working that late, but we did find a couple who were around. Neither of them saw Sarah after midnight.'