NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9)

his wife?’ said Lennox.
‘Fair point,’ said the inspector. ‘And what did you talk about, may I ask?’
‘That’s between me and ’im and I ain’t telling you.’
‘Not how his son came by his injuries, by any chance?’ asked the inspector.
‘Like I said, I’m saying nowt.’
‘Now, there’s a surprise,’ said Blizzard.
The detectives headed for the door where Blizzard paused with his hand resting on the handle. He looked slowly around the room, taking in the familiar faces sitting at the tables.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said coldly. ‘It’s been an absolute pleasure, as ever. We must do it again sometime.’
And, followed by the sergeant, he pushed his way out into the drizzle of the afternoon, smiling as he ignored the baleful stares from the regulars. Once outside, Blizzard looked at Colley.
‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said the inspector.
‘I wouldn’t want to do it every day. So, what do you think?’
‘I think that too many people are hiding things from us,’ said Blizzard. ‘And I don’t like it when they do that.’

Chapter eleven
Blizzard had only been back in his office at Abbey Road Police Station for a few minutes when there was a knock on the door. He looked up to see Chris Ramsey – a tall, slim man in his thirties, with short-cropped brown hair, an angular face and a prominent nose. He was one of Western Division’s detective inspectors, the organisers, the ones who kept on top of the administration, the ones who Blizzard had to convince when it came to manpower allocation. Ramsey sat down and placed a slim brown file on the desk.
‘What’s that?’ asked Blizzard.
‘You asked about Martha Raine.’
‘Is that all we’ve got?’
‘It’s all there is,’ said Ramsey. ‘Why so interested, anyway? It was straightforward.’
‘I’m sure it was, but her husband collared me outside the church this morning.’ Blizzard glanced at the wall clock. ‘He’s coming in to see me in a few minutes and I want to be on top of the facts.’
‘Why did he want to see you in particular?’
‘Says he wants me to find her,’ said Blizzard. He glanced at the file. ‘So, what’s the story?’
Ramsey gave a slight smile; everyone knew how bad Blizzard was at reading reports. He knew that he’d end up explaining it to his boss.
‘An all-too-familiar one, I am afraid,’ he said. Ramsey opened the file and ran his eye down the first of three pages. ‘A story for our times. Martha was two days away from her seventy-fifth birthday when she went missing. She had dementia and had started wandering off. Her husband tried not to leave her alone unless he had to.’
‘But this time he did?’
‘Yeah, had to go to pick up a prescription from the chemist. He was only gone for half an hour and he locked the front door but when he returned, she had gone. No note. Just vanished.’ Ramsey flicked over onto the second page. ‘Uniform did all they could. They had people searching everywhere and even had divers looking in the canal. And the helicopter was up for several hours.’
‘But they found nothing?’
‘That’s right,’ said Ramsey. He flicked over onto the third page but it was blank. ‘It was a cold day and the assumption was that she had collapsed somewhere. They kept searching for a couple of days before calling it off.’
‘And we found nothing to alert our suspicions?’
‘Nothing at all.’ Ramsey placed the file back on the table. ‘It was referred to us as a matter of routine and I sent a DC round to see the husband but, like I say, it was all straightforward. Tom Raine didn’t say anything that made us think it was suspicious.’
Blizzard sat back in his chair and nodded.
‘Sounds like we did everything by the book,’ he said.
‘So, what are you going to tell the old boy? That we can’t help?’
‘I’m not sure, Chris.’
‘Surely, you’re not thinking of reopening the case?’ said Ramsey in dismay. ‘We’re stretched enough as it is what with this kid and the attack on the guy at the hostel. I can’t spare anyone, I really can’t.’
‘I know but I can’t help feeling that we owe the old boy something.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the man is hurting.’ Blizzard frowned. ‘And something he said reminded me of my mum’s final years. Something about it being no age to die. My mum had dementia and I lost count of the number of people who treated her like she was a seven-year-old. And if she had gone missing, I’d not have let it drop until she had been found.’
‘Fair enough.’ Ramsey stood to leave. ‘I’ll see if I can’t rustle someone up to help, but, if you ask me, I’m not sure what we can achieve after all this time.’
It was a view with which Blizzard felt he had to agree when, twenty minutes later, he was sitting in his office and looking across the desk at Tom Raine, acutely aware that he had little to offer the old man.
‘Let me level with you,’ said the inspector. ‘I have reviewed the file on your wife’s disappearance and I really am not sure there’s much we can do.’
‘You could find her,’ said the pensioner.
‘We’ll certainly try.’
‘That’s all I ask.’
‘The file says that your wife had dementia?’
‘She did,’ said Tom. ‘But she could still do things. She loved volunteering.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Martha was a florist for most of her working life. Worked in a shop on Caterham Street. She loved doing the flowers at St John’s.’ Tom frowned. ‘Then the new people came.’
‘Yes, tell me about them,’ said the inspector.
‘I didn’t like them. Neither did Martha and she got on with most folks. I’ve got nothing against young people, Chief Inspector, but sometimes they forget that us oldies had lives before we retired and