Episode 21 - Brad Bailey

Tuesday

At midnight, Ian Bailey was startled out of his regular sofa siesta by loud knocking. The TV volume was turned up, but not too high to hear that the front door was being thumped.

“Rosie, answer the door!” he shouted.

But Rosie had gone out, bored with the ritual evening snoozes of the guy she had once thought was a good catch. She was hoping to find a better candidate for her affections, despite having shacked up with Ian Bailey. She was good at jilting unwanted suitors, as a string of past affairs could confirm. The young men had all been relieved of their savings and Rosie had a rosy bank balance and lots of trinkets and fashionable clothes to show for it.

Rosie was taking driving lessons secretly at a rival driving school. Her next beau would buy her a car, she was sure. For the time being, she would creep back in and spread out on Ian’s double bed, wearing nothing at all and ready for Ian’s energetic attentions. When she left, it would be while he was at work. She would have begged time off to go to the beauty parlour. All she had to do now was to find the ideal successor.

***

Ian wriggled his feet into his shoes and went to see who was there. He had a feeling that it would be his brother, but he knew that Brad would persist, so he opened the door and Brad pushed his way in brandishing a pistol.

“Put that thing down, Brad. You might hurt someone.”

“Have you got a girl hidden somewhere?” said Brad.

“No. Rosie has gone out.”

Brad stopped aiming at Ian.

“So I could stay here tonight and sleep on the sofa like last time.”

“Theoretically, yes, but the police are looking for you,” said Ian.

“How do you know?”

“Because they warned me that you are armed and dangerous.”

“They had searchlights up at the farm.”

“Where did you get that gun, Brad? Did you try to kill your father?”

“He had it coming, but no.”

“And he isn’t dead. He survived, so you are not a murderer anyway, at least in this case. What happened?”

“I’m not a killer, Ian, but my father is. He killed Phil and had him taken apart and buried in the priory garden.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Arrogance, hatred, jealousy. His wife had left him and had two more boys with two new lovers. I suspect that Phil had investigated Connor to find out how much more alimony our mother could claim. Phil was a lawyer, after all.”

"But Connor must have been warned and took steps to avoid a law suit," said Brad.

"You'd better keep quiet about all that," said Ian. "It gives you a rock-solid motive."

***

All things considered, Ian and Brad Bailey were making a go of it. They had never been friends, but were united in their love of their  brother and horrified that he had met such a violent end.

Ian was not sure that Connor had known who Phil was. He had taken on the name of his biological father rather than his mother’s married name of Bailey. Why he had come was a mystery, though Ian thought he had possibly looked for him in Middlethumpton first, not found him at the driving school, been told that the current girl-friend (the indomitable Rosie) was from Lower Grumpsfield, and had gone there. But he did know that Bailey owned a farm, so he might have gone there.

Brad thought it was useless speculating. He had not seen Phil since long before he started taking drugs. Phil did not approve of junkies, with whom he had had to deal professionally. For him, as a lawyer, they were all criminals. Not long after qualifying as a lawyer, Phil had left Britain to find a new life.

Ian thought it was possible that Phil had wanted to find Brad. He knew that Brad had sought help from his father, but what happened after that would remain a mystery unless Connor Bailey opened up and told everything.  

Ian pointed out that Connor would not want to incriminate himself and was ruthless enough to go to extreme lengths to protect his image as a writer and farmer. His activities as a Godfather were not known to the police, and Ian had himself not known about the villa on the Oxford Road until very recently. There were enough brothels and other low dives in that area to keep the police busy, and none of those haunts would ever have admitted that Bailey supplied them with illegally smuggled-in young women and other commodities. The system worked because Bailey had a free hand while remaining unnamed and returned favours with money-laundering for drug dealers after he had sold them the drugs he had imported through dark channels. It was all a very murky business.

***

“So what happens now?” Brad wanted to know.

“You’ll have to turn yourself in.”

“I can’t do that.”

“It’s your only chance.”

“And if I don’t?”

“That’s like an admission of guilt, Brad.”

“What a mess.”

“It doesn’t have to be. A guy I taught to drive not so long ago is a lawyer in Middlethumpton who specializes in difficult cases. He’s a friend of the superintendent at police headquarters and he’s above board. He will know what to do. If you are innocent, he will prove it.”

“Can I trust you…or him?” Brad said.

“Do you trust yourself, Brad?”

***

At one a.m. Gary decided that he was not going to get any sleep if he did not contact Ian Bailey and check that he was O.K.

“It’s the parent thing rising in you,” said Cleo. “He’d have rung you if he needed help.”

“He might not have been able to. I’m going to phone him.”

Gary sat up in bed and Cleo passed him the house-phone that was on her side because she was always awake faster.

Ian Bailey answered the phone and declared that everything was fine.

***

“I don’t believe him,” said Gary, climbing out of bed. “I’m going to check.”

“No you aren’t, Sweetheart. I’d rather you stayed here.”

“Would you?”

“If there’s anything going on there you might even cause more trouble if you turn up.”

“Tell me how?”

“By forcing Brad Bailey’s hand,” said Cleo.

“You’re right, as usual, my Love. I’ll stay here on one condition.”

“Coffee?”

“I have a better idea.”

***

Gary woke after about 4 hours sleep with a heightened sense of foreboding.

“I can feel it in my bones,” he said.

“Arthritis, Sweetheart. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Can you be serious for one minute, Cleo? I thought today would be the day the priory case was finally solved the way we thought it should be. 

But I have to admit that I still suspect Connor Bailey is a major player involved in everything that has happened since that corpse turned up. The Gates brothers and Sloane are small players in a big game and our alternative main suspect has done a bunk leaving his father half dead.”

“If that's what he actually did. You can’t predict everything. People have motives for doing things, but they don’t always commit crimes, do they?”

“That’s what Dorothy says,” said Gary.

“She’s right, Gary. You’d be very busy if everyone carried out their threats.”

“Unfortunately it also works the other way round.”

“Meaning?”

“That some people act impulsively and subsequently find a reason for their action.”

"It may only seem impulsive. Judges fall for that ruse."

"So do we cops."

“Better get up, Sweetheart.”

***

At breakfast time on a normal workday Tuesday everyone was on the move. Daily rituals were being carried out. To say that Gary was in charge would be an exaggeration, however. 

“I’m not even in control of breakfast,” he complained, “let alone the crime in this God-forsaken district.”

He was still disgruntled when Greg phoned. Greg had only shown sporadic interest in the priory case and Gary would begrudge him a genuine breakthrough, he decided.

***

“No sign of Brad Bailey,” Greg reported. “Get those searchers back in case he’s still in the area."

“Do you really think he’s hanging around waiting for them?” said Gary.

“I don’t think Oxford HQ would want him to escape,” said Greg.

“Neither do I, Greg, but I have a hunch.”

“Want to tell me?”

“Not yet.”

That reply annoyed Greg. Gary should be more cooperative. Greg slammed his phone down. 

"Another nail in his coffin," Gary told no one in particular. If Cleo had heard, she would have told him he was being unfair.

***

A few minutes later Ian Bailey rang.

“So you survived the night,” said Gary.

“I’m likely to survive a few more, Mr Hurley. Here’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Yes?”

“It’s Brad Bailey here.”

“The guy we’re looking for?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Around. I’m at my brother’s house now.”

“Since when?”

“Late last night.”

No wonder Ian had played it cool, mused Gary. But he must have convinced his brother of the need to give himself up, and that was a sign that things were probably not as he and Cleo had thought they were.

”Can you stay there long enough for us to talk?” said Gary, gleeful that Ian Bailey had had the sense to ring him rather than drag his brother to HQ. Greg would have arrested him on the spot.

“Yes. Ian is advising me and he’s calling Mr Peck in as my legal advisor.”

“Very wise. You’ll need one, but don’t worry. We’ll talk things over and HQ won’t find out till I tell them as long as I’m in charge. Always assuming you are innocent, of course.”

“I am. I was threatened. That’s why I made myself scarce.”

Tell me about that when I get to you, Brad."

***

A short time later, Gary was eager to hear more of what Brad had to say.

“Who threatened you?” he asked

“My father. He said he could not use a disreputable son. He had no intention of letting me spoil his life. I was drunk that night I scarpered, but not too drunk to realize that he was actually giving me time to run away by passing me on to the Norton Brothers.”

“How heart-rending!”

“His way of clearing the decks,” said Brad. “He knew he'd put the fear of God into me. He’s not a natural dad. He's cruel and mean, Mr Hurley. I went to the Norton Brothers and asked them for advice because I knew they had some kind of hold over my father. They said they could help me if I helped them.”

“And did you?”

“No. It could have been a trick. I played for time by saying I’d would, but left.”

***

“It’s a weird story,” said Gary.

“Not as weird as what happened after that,” said Brad.

“Go on.”

“I’m talking about those human remains found at the priory.”

“OK. Whose are they, Brad. You sound as if you know.”

“They almost certainly belong to our youngest brother, Phil, but we don’t think that Connor knew who he was.”

“That does not make it any better,” said Gary, thinking that a bit more investigation would have revealed the information about there being 3 brothers, not 2. Up how many wrong trees had he and Cleo been barking?

“Connor does not think anyone has a right to life if they don’t do what he wants. I don’t think he would recognize Phil but he must have thought Phil was a danger to him, so he had to be done away with. That's how he keeps his businesses thriving. ”

“Presumably this younger brother did not contact you,” said Gary.

Ian chipped in.

“Phil must have been on some mission or other that bothered Connor and might have shocked me, so in Connor’s view he had to go.”

“What was he onto?”

“I couldn’t even hazard a guess.”

“Was Phil gay?”

“Yes.”

“Why would anyone go to the trouble of burying your brother’s bones in the priory?”

There was a pause while Ian served coffee.

"I don't know if Phil was on to it, but that cannibal sect really exists,” said Brad. “The Norton brothers mentioned that they found it a good way of dealing with unwanted characters. The cannibals – normal guys with half-way respectable jobs and unhealthy appetites - were even paid for their trouble. But they had curiously religious consciences. I think you’d find unofficially interred fresh human remains in many churchyards and cemeteries. They would not be in coffins, though now I think about it, the coffins of some legally buried people might have been added to. ”

“In other words, Phil was delving into the cult,” said Gary.

“It’s possible,” said Brad.

“This is getting worse, Brad. How can you equate eating human flesh with sacred burials? It does not make sense.”

“Cannibals probably always had finer feelings about human remains,” said Brad.

“It all makes me shudder,” said Gary. “But it still goes on, of course. A group of people starving will kill and eat the weakest of them. You read about it now and again when the newspapers spot it.”

***

“A guy named Sloane searched for, found and then dug suitable vacant spots for them. I don’t think Monkton Priory was his first visit when he dug for buried treasure,” said Brad. “Cranks wander around all sorts of places waving diviner rods and swinging metal detectors. Some are successful and like to keep their finds to themselves, and at least one digs them holes to order.”

“Another guy we should have investigated more thoroughly,” Gary commented. “That idea never occurred to us.”

“Sloane is still hoping for his 5 minutes of fame,” said Brad. “But long-term he likes the idea of being on a plinth in Trafalgar Square as the reward for discovering an ancient fortune rather than being instrumental in the concealment of corpses."

“He might get more than 5 minutes, Brad, and it won't be on a plinth,” said Gary, now anxious to get moving on the basis of all this new information.

“You can’t charge him for finding nice burial plots, can you?” said Ian.

“Try me!”

***

Brad was going to accompany Ian to the driving school. He would look at the book-keeping there as he had done at his father’s farm once he had got over his drug addiction. He had wondered then at the amounts of money he was dealing with, but accepted his father’s explanation that he was a middleman for farm supplies and subsidies. There was plenty of money going if you knew how to get at it.

“We can’t use a full-time accountant, Brad, but we could use an extra driving teacher,”  Ian had offered. “Interested?”

“Someone will have to look after the farm,” said Brad. 

“So I can find you there, can I?” said Gary.

“I’m not under arrest then,” Brad replied.

“I would not know what to charge you with, Mr Bailey."

“Shooting my father?”

“Did you?”

“No. He still had the gun in his hand. He actually wanted to kill me. We wrestled for it and he shot himself.”

“Forensics will confirm if that’s what happened,” said Gary. “Where is the gun now?”

“I took it off him. It's in my backpack. I’ll get it.”

Gary dropped the weapon into a plastic bag and Brad obliged with fingerprints on a beermat for easy comparison. He was also quite happy about the DNA swab. 

“I wanted to talk my father into giving up his criminal activities,” he explained. “I didn’t know the details, but he must have thought I did. He definitely wanted me out of the way, Mr Hurley. That’s why he wanted me to look at the croft. It was a ruse to get me out of the house. On the way to the croft he suddenly pointed the gun at me and I found myself wondering how to get myself out of the mess. I pounced and you know what happened next.”

“Not a very nice relationship between father and son,” said Gary.

“I don’t know what attracted my mother to him,” said Brad “But she was still married to him. For some reason they both hung on to that state of bliss.”

“I’m going to the hospital now,” said Gary.

“Don’t tell him where I am,” said Brad.

***

Connor Bailey was still in intensive care have lost a lot of blood, but awake. Gary would be allowed five minutes to ask a few questions. He introduced himself.

“Don’t bother,” said Connor. “I can’t remember anything. I have amnesia.”

“I just wanted to ask about your son, Ian,” said Gary.

“He isn’t my son,” said Connor.

He had fallen for the easiest trick Gary could have used.

“So you do remember that much,” he said. “What about your other son?”

“Brad? He's my only son.”

“Well, Mr Bailey, you only seem to have selective memory loss, so I can ask you how you came to be here.”

“I’m told I was shot,” said Bailey, “but I don’t remember it happening.”

“Try,” said Gary.

“We wrestled and a shot went off,” said Bailey.

"Who?"

"Brad."

“Whose gun was it?”

“Mine.”

“Had you pointed it at Brad, Mr Bailey?”

“He had told me who the bones in the priory belonged to….”

"Your third son?"

"My wife's."

At that moment the ward sister appeared and said the five minutes were up.

“I don’t want a cliff-hanger, Sister,” Gary said. “Just two more minutes, please.”

The sister nodded, consulted her watch and left the room, leaving the door open.

“Did you aim at Brad, Mr Bailey?” Gary repeated in a low voice.

After a short pause Bailey explained in an equally faint voice.

“He said he knew something….”

“So that’s why you drew the gun,” said Gary at normal volume. “It must have been very important to silence him, Mr Bailey. Is that what you do every time someone says something you don’t like? Don’t you at least wait for them to explain?”

Before Bailey could answer, the sister came bustling in and ejected Gary. She had clearly been eavesdropping and looked nervous.

***

There was no doubt that Bailey knew exactly what had happened and why. It was also evident that the nurse was quite likely to talk about what Gary had deliberately said so that she could hear him. He could not have wished for better security at that moment. To emphasize that, he told the nurse to keep an eye on him.

“Has he still got the gun?” she asked.

“No, but he can use a knife, Sister.”

The nurse gasped.

“No visitors, Sister. He’s too frail.”

“Do you think so?” said the Sister.

“No, but it’s a good reason for not admitting anyone.”

The Sister nodded conspiratorially.

Gary thought she was scared enough to be on her guard. Bailey was clearly on the mend. A security guard would have to be brought in. That would happen very soon, Greg informed him after receiving instructions to get it organized.

***

Considering that Bailey would not consciously say anything to incriminate himself, Gary thought the interview had not gone too badly. Bailey would be nervous when the guard took up his position, but he would be out of his hospital bed very soon and in no time at all he would find himself in a secure cell at HQ. The challenge now was to collect enough justification for putting him there and Gary thought he knew how to go about it.