IT NEVER RAINS: murder and kidnap in the heart of England by Tony Bassett

Author:Tony Bassett [Bassett, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Book Folks
Published: 2024-09-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

The fair-haired constable was surprised at the visitor’s admissions about burglary and kidnap. But he maintained his composure.

‘Wait there just a moment,’ he said, picking up his desk phone. After a garbled conversation with another officer, he replaced the handset.

‘Can I take a note of your name, sir?’

‘Lewis,’ the visitor replied. ‘Lewis Tigworth.’

‘If you’d like to take a seat over in the corner, sir, someone will be down in a minute to talk to you.’

Within a few minutes, PC Derek Underhill hurried into the reception area through a side door.

‘Mr Tigworth?’ he said. ‘Would you like to come this way? My name’s Underhill. You’re lucky to find me here. I was due off at five.’

He led his visitor into the bright interview room.

‘I understand you’ve got some information about some crimes that have been committed. Is that right?’ asked the constable as the pair sat down opposite each other at the table.

‘Yeah,’ said Tigworth.

‘So, you’ve witnessed something, have you? The desk constable said it was to do with burglary and kidnap.’

‘Yes,’ said Tigworth. ‘You know the men who did the burglary at Norton Prior when the guy got shot? I was one of them. I can tell you everything.’

‘Good God,’ said Underhill. ‘Have you come straight from the place where the boy is?’

‘No. I’ve been round my parents’ place. They live in Queensbridge.’

‘All right,’ said the constable. ‘You’d better start from the beginning.’

Over the next five minutes, Tigworth gave the genial constable a brief outline of his involvement in the events that began with the burglary at Upper Norton Manor. Underhill took notes and then put his pen down.

‘Why have you come in to tell us all this?’ he asked the visitor. ‘Have you fallen out with your friends?’

‘You could say that,’ Tigworth concurred.

‘All right,’ said Underhill. ‘I know some people who are going to be very interested in talking to you. If you wait there, I’ll go and make a quick phone call.’

* * *

The nervous young man was chewing one of his fingernails an hour later as he waited in the interview room at St James Street. Derek Underhill had driven him to the headquarters building after alerting the CID. Lewis Tigworth had already held a brief discussion with solicitor Roger Sims, but since then, for more than twenty minutes, senior officers had kept him waiting in this cold, unwelcoming room.

He had become increasingly worried over the previous week about how the gang’s activities were proceeding. A simple burglary had turned into murder and kidnap. Their hostage had a frightening illness. Events had reached a turning point and he had taken the crucial decision to hand himself in. But the longer he waited in the room, the more he began having second thoughts.

Of all the gang members, he had spent the most time with the French boy. If the police had caught them with the teenager, he suspected this would have gone heavily against him. Marcel would have clearly identified him as one of the gang. Furthermore,

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