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“So he’s a victim?” Fenton rolled his eyes, much like Ronson had done. Only the CSM’s came back down.
“Exactly. Ronson stepped off the train, and his mobile rang. Then he simply dropped dead. Funny thing is, I’d called him three times on the way here, and each call went to voicemail. And before his phone rang, he spoke to us and said he knew I’d been ringing him, so whoever is controlling all of this is clever enough to program the SIM cards to react to whatever numbers he wishes.”
At his own mention of SIM cards, Gardener made a mental note to contact the police station in Bramfield to see if there was any news on Graham Johnson.
More of the crime scene team arrived. Steve Fenton told them he wanted a marquee around the body.
“Steve?” Gardener said. “I want his phone sent off immediately for testing. I want to know who rang him.” Gardener glanced along the platform and saw Ronson’s briefcase. “And can you also check through his briefcase, see if you can find anything we need to know?”
“Will do.”
Wasting no further time, Gardener used his mobile to call Desk Sergeant Williams at Bramfield and ask if he could action one of his men to identify the cell masts covering Shipston station, and do a cell dump on each. He told Williams he needed all the phone numbers in the area within the last hour. Williams, in turn, told him there was still no news on Graham Johnson.
Before Gardener had the chance to do anything else, most of his team arrived at the platform, having the good sense to stand outside the booking hall and move no further.
He instructed Frank Thornton and Bob Anderson to put together a question set for potential witnesses, and to assist the local constables on the other platform in gathering all names and addresses. Gardener then ordered Paul Benson and Patrick Edwards to take over for Sean Reilly and do the same. He tasked Dave Rawson to help Colin Wilson in the booking hall with the people there. He also told Rawson to call The Harrogate Arms and have the landlord take the dog walkers’ names and address if they showed up, so that Rawson could head over there after his station duties. It would please him no end if they could confirm the number plate of the van on the night Lance Hobson went missing.
Gardener then addressed his DC, Colin Sharp. “I’d like you to oversee this operation in my absence. Sean and I need to go to St. James’s Hospital and follow up on Ronson’s operation. Can you organize action teams to visit all of the people here at the station today? Frank and Bob are putting a question set together that they can all use. Someone might have seen something. For what it’s worth, I don’t think the killer is here. He doesn’t need to be.”
“What about that train, sir, over there? He could be on that. He may have been watching as Ronson got off, and knew he could get away easy enough.”
“That has gone through my mind, Colin. As soon as we have all names and addresses from everyone here, and you’re satisfied, let them all go. Then you can start on the train. The station manager has had specific instructions that no one leaves the train until we say so. In fact, whilst they’re organizing questions to ask, you go down there and tell them why they’re waiting. But first of all, come with me.”
As Gardener glanced down the track, he could see workmen in orange protective clothing putting out the blockades as he’d asked.
The three officers entered the booking hall. Colin Wilson and Dave Rawson had ever
ything under control. Most of the people were now seated and seemed a little calmer. He left them to it, and he and Reilly entered the ticket office and went through to the manager’s room, where Rafferty was currently barking orders into the phone.
The small room was very clean and smelled of leather and beeswax. A wine-coloured Chesterfield settee matched a dark red carpet. The walls were pastel colours and had a variety of paintings. Rafferty was sitting at a desk that housed a computer, and what Gardener took to be photos of his family. When he placed the phone in its cradle, he seemed very harassed.
“My God, I never realized how hard it was to cancel and reroute trains. I’ve spoken to some pretty unhelpful people in the last few minutes, Mr Gardener, I don’t mind telling you.”
“We appreciate what you’re doing.” Gardener pointed to Colin Sharp. “This is DC Sharp. He’s going to be in charge in my absence. I know this incident is rather unfortunate, but we really are needed somewhere else.”
“What actually happened out there?” asked Rafferty. He gestured for them to sit down, but each man remained standing.
“I’m afraid I can’t go into too much detail, other than to say a man died after exiting the train.”
“Oh my word, I hope he hadn’t eaten a National Rail sandwich.”
“That’s a good one,” scoffed Reilly. “But I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about on that score.”
Rafferty managed a smile.
“Where were you, Mr Rafferty, when all this happened?” asked Gardener.
“In my office. I’ve been here all morning.” He then glanced at his watch. “Well, since eight o’clock, anyway. I came in through the booking hall. My ticket clerk, Ian, was already here. He made me a cup of tea, and I came in here to get on with some work. Next thing I knew, he was back in here telling me the police were on my platform and a man was dead. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Do you have CCTV on the station?”
“Yes, we do. I know it’s a country station, but you can’t be too careful all the same.”
“I’d like the recordings covering the last twenty-four hours. Just give them to DC Sharp.”
Gardener didn’t see a lot of point in going much further back. With all the technology being used, he did not think the killer had entered the station that day, or any other for that matter.
Gardener stared out of window and down the track. The men in orange uniforms were still busy. He sighed heavily. There was so much to do. He couldn’t believe how much had happened in such a short space of time. Three o’clock Monday morning was when it had all started, and Gardener felt like he’d been on duty ever since, without sleep. So much havoc had been caused within fifty-four hours. Suspects were thin on the ground, and the one man vital to their investigation – namely Lance Hobson – remained at large. It was doubly important to find him because Gardener wasn’t certain if he was a suspect, or a victim.
