Winter Frost

'We'll want an inventory of what's been taken.'

'That's easy,' said Conway, bitterly. 'It's everything that was in the window.'

'As soon as you can,' said Frost, moving away as his radio paged him. Morgan again.

'We've lost them, guv.'

Frost stared at the radio open-mouthed. 'You've what?'

'Not our fault, guv. They swerved in front of an articulated lorry. The lorry driver slammed on his brakes, skidded and jack-knifed. We couldn't get past.'

Frost sighed. "There's not many places they could have gone. Keep looking!'

The clock on the interview room wall clunked its way round to 4.12. The radiator still wasn't working properly in spite of Frost's kicks and the room was cold. Frost thumbed through the list of stolen items then raised his eyes to Conway. 'Nearly a quarter of a million. What were you stocking — the Crown Jewels?'

'It was all good stuff: gold, silver, jewellery, Rolex watches. It soon adds up.'

'Why wasn't it in the safe?'

'Good question. The flaming safe's jammed. We can't open it. The locksmith's coming tomorrow to fix it — too flaming busy to come today. I had to get special dispensation from the insurance company to leave it in the window overnight.' 'That was good of them.'

'Yes… very generous,' replied Conway with heavy sarcasm. 'All they charged was an extra premium of Ј500. Ј500 for twenty-four flaming hours.'

Frost glanced at the list of stolen items again. 'I bet they wish they'd turned you down, now.' He took out a cigarette. 'Was tonight the first time the stuff was left in the window?'

'Yes. These crooks were either bloody observant or bloody lucky — tomorrow night the stuff would all have been nicely locked away in the safe.'

Frost thumbed his lighter. 'At least you were insured.'

'Oh yes, and if I live long enough, and they can't find anything in the small print so they can wriggle out of paying, I'll get the wholesale price less Ј5,000 excess and treble the premium for next time.' He blew his nose noisily. 'But here am I ranting on and forgetting about that poor devil in hospital. Any news?'

'Still unconscious. It doesn't look too good.' The jeweller's face creased. 'I'm so terribly sorry. I owe him. If there's anything I can do…'

'Thanks,' said Frost, rubbing his hands together to restore the circulation. 'And thanks for coming. We'll keep you informed.'

Conway zipped up his briefcase and pulled on a pair of leather gloves.

'Half a mo!' said Frost. As Conway sat down again, Frost beckoned Collier over. 'Nip out and see if there's any news from the hospital, would you, son?' He waited until the constable had left before leaning across the table to Conway and lowering his voice. 'Wanted him out of the way for a minute,' he said, tapping his nose conspiratorially. He pulled a brown paper bag from his pocket and shook the contents into his hand. A necklace which sparkled in the overhead light. 'I bought this from a bloke in a pub today, paid fifty quid for it. He swore blind it was worth Ј400. Was I caught?'

Conway stripped off his gloves and examined the necklace. A sad shake of his head as he handed it back. 'You got exactly what you paid for, Inspector. It's worth Ј50 top whack.'

With a rueful grin Frost tucked the necklace back in his pocket. 'The lousy bastard!' he said. Then he clicked his fingers as if he had suddenly remembered something. 'I'm a silly sod. This isn't the necklace I bought in the pub. This is the one I took from your shop window tonight. It had this Ј4,500 price ticket on it.' He swung the price ticket backwards and forwards.

Conway went white. I don't understand…'

Frost grinned back at him. 'Don't you, Mr Conway? Your bank manager does.'

'My bank manager?'

A cheerful nod from Frost. 'I phoned him a few minutes ago. It might have been my imagination, but he didn't sound too pleased at being woken up from a sound sleep. Anyway, it seems you're overdrawn like mad, the bank want to repossess your house and your shop, and there's quite a few of your cheques bouncing like the Dambusters' bomb. He said you had a profitable little business there until you let your son start running it.'

Conway stared, mouth agape, then, with an effort, pulled himself together. 'This is all beyond me, Inspector. I'm going-'

'Sit down!' barked Frost.

Conway's shoulders slumped. He dropped down in the chair.

A tap at the door and a grim-faced Collier returned.

He whispered something to Frost whose lips tightened. 'Thank you, Constable.' He stared at Conway. 'A fractured skull, extensive brain damage. They rate his chances as lower than fifty/fifty, but even if he does pull through, they doubt if he will ever be able to lead a normal life.' He bent forward, his face nearly touching Conway's. 'You bastard!' He spat out the words.

Conway jerked back as if he had been hit. 'How dare you!' he spluttered.

'An insurance fiddle. I can smell them a mile off. A fake raid, then claim on the insurance. And thanks to your scam a bloody good police officer who was trying to protect your property has been ruined for life.'

Conway flushed. 'This is preposterous. You're making wild accusations without a shred of proof. I am not saying another word unless my solicitor is present.'

'Good,' said Frost, opening his folder. 'You can show him this when he gets here.' He pulled out a printed form and handed it over. 'It's a search warrant… I took the liberty of getting one ready in advance. We're going to search your house.'

'My house?' croaked Conway, the search warrant shaking as he tried to hold it steady.

Frost nodded. 'Who knows, we might find a lot of the good stuff hidden away somewhere that you forgot to stick in your shop window.'

The jeweller's face crumpled. He stared down at the scratched and scarred table top. 'You've got to believe me, Inspector. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt.'

Frost signalled for Collier to start up the cassette recorder, then gave Conway a warm, encouraging smile. 'Tell us all about it,' he said.

Frost watched Wells lock the cell door on Conway. 'His son and two mates carried out the fake raid.

We've sent a couple of cars to pick them up, so get the other two cells swilled out.'

'Conway's son was behind it all, then?' asked Wells.

'Yes,' agreed Frost. 'Conway put him in charge of the shop. The worst mistake of his life. Sonny Boy's been selling off the stock to pay for his gambling and drug habits and replacing it with cheap swag, hoping no-one would notice. Conway was going to sell the business and had the buyer coming in next week to appraise the stock, so Sonny Boy had to come clean. They thought this would be a good way out of their troubles. Let this be a lesson to you, Bill — crime does not pay!'

'Not a wasted night after all, then?' said Wells as they walked back to the lobby.

'If you overlook the poor sod in hospital and the fact that our serial killer is still on the loose, then by my lousy standards it was an unqualified success.'

In the lobby a worried-looking Burton was waiting for them. 'Anyone seen Liz?' he asked.

'Detective Sergeant Maud, to you,' snapped Wells. 'And I haven't seen her. Try the ladies' toilets — she spends most of her time in there.'

'She's probably in the incident room,' called Frost as Burton hurried off. To Wells he said: 'What's the world coming to? They get their leg over, then start calling senior officers by their first name.' But on the way back to his office he found himself worrying. He couldn't recall seeing Liz since early on in the operation, and now he thought about it, she wasn't at the scene of the jewellery raid. He found Burton staring into an empty murder incident room.

'She might have gone straight home, son,' he suggested. 'Have you phoned her?'

'I've phoned: she doesn't answer.'

'Let's ask Morgan where he dropped her.'

The sound of raucous laughter from the rear doors heralded the return of Morgan with Jordan and Simms, all escorting three sullen men in handcuffs, the ram raiders. Simms was carrying the bags of fake jewellery. 'We've got them, guv,' announced Morgan triumphantly.