Flynn looked back at the papers he was studying, then passed Mabel a piece of paper, before returning to his inspection without a word. Well, really, thought Mabel, but she settled herself into a chair and began her inspection of the members of the car club, Wheels. Who could have been affected by the scam? What car did each member own? If any? Mabel was beginning to think this was an operation far too big for just her and Flynn.

  The three main members of the club were the Chairman, Secretary and Treasurer. Colonel Sugar was Chairman. A retired army Colonel, a title which rather spoke for itself. Mabel remembered him as a bad-tempered man who said he didn’t suffer fools gladly and forever smoothed down his rather lavish moustache. Josephine James, Secretary, was a large lady, both in personality and size. Mabel had never been on the wrong side of Josephine, but having seen how formidable she could be, Mabel was very glad. The Treasurer was the local Bank Manager, Tim Stubbings. A mouse of a man, who was on borrowed time, both at work and within the car club. Rumour had it that he was going to be made redundant and the branch closed, sooner rather than later. He was a throwback to an earlier time with his black bowler hat and umbrella.

  Classic car ownership was very popular in Muddlebay and the surrounding areas, meaning that the car club was popular and their meetings once a month were well attended. They would choose a pub in different parts of the region to meet each month and show their cars off. This activity culminated in the summer in the Muddlebay Wheels Classic Car show and there was also a couple of others in larger towns along the coast. Meaning that members were squirrelled away in their garages and lock ups looking after their cars and lavishing on them all the care and love that perhaps they should have been giving to other areas of their lives. Most of the long-suffering wives likened themselves to golf widows.

  So, who had had a Volvo and had been scammed? Or a Morris Traveller? If the three officers of the club didn’t know, then someone needed to go through this list and ask everyone what cars they owned, or rather had owned.

  She looked up from her list, but Flynn was still engrossed in his task.

  ‘Flynn.’

  Silence.

  ‘Flynn?’ Mabel spoke a little louder. ‘For goodness sake, Flynn!’ she exclaimed.

  Finally, Flynn looked up. He huffed and said, ‘Yes Mabel?’

  ‘I’ve a list of suspects here.’

  ‘Yes, well, so have I. But I don’t have names, just loads of logbooks. I’m going to have to get onto the DVLA and see if they can help identify those individuals who have been previous owners of the two cars we know Mr and Mrs Gains had.’

  ‘I have about 25 suspects from the local car club.’

  ‘This is too much for one person, Mabel.’

  ‘I know. If you carry on alone, it’s going to take you a month of Sundays to get anywhere.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What do you mean, what?’

  ‘A month of Sundays? What four weeks?’

  ‘Pardon? Oh never mind, Flynn, the fact is you need help.’

  Chapter 19

  Mabel stood and made her way cautiously down the steep stairs to the main area of the police station. As usual Elgin was at the counter, reading a newspaper and Fisher was sat at his desk with his feet up, also reading a newspaper.

  ‘Okay you two,’ said Mabel. ‘We need a bit of help upstairs.’

  ‘Really?’ drawled Elgin but didn’t move.

  ‘Yes, really,’ retorted Mabel. ‘We’re drowning in work up there and what are you two doing? Sitting on your backsides, that’s what you’re doing. I really expected more of you two, you know.’ Mabel was on a roll now. ‘You’re not exactly a credit to your community, are you?’

  Elgin and Fisher had the grace to look sheepish.

  But Mabel hadn’t finished with them. ‘What would happen if the Inspector walked in now? What would he make of you two?’

  Elgin’s eyes widened. As the junior ranking officer, he was particularly vulnerable to talk of higher ranked officers raining down their wrath on him.

  ‘What, what, um, what do you want us to do, Mabel?’

  ‘Come upstairs with me now. Put an eager expression on your face and do whatever tasks Flynn allocates you with alacrity and enthusiasm. Got it?’

  ‘Got it, Mabel.’

  ‘Yes, right, will do.’

  ‘Excellent boys, now follow me.’

  And like a soldier leading her troops Mabel marched Fisher and Elgin up the stairs to the CID office.

  Once there both men stood near the doorway looking awkward. Fisher got a kick on the ankle from Mabel, which seemed to shake him out of his reverie, and he said, ‘Alright, Flynn? I hear you need some help. Anything we can do?’

  ‘What?’ Flynn looked surprised. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really,’ agreed Elgin. ‘Glad to help, aren’t we, Fisher?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he nodded sagely.

  ‘That’s bloody brilliant. Thanks, lads. Pull up a chair and I’ll fill you in on the investigation to date.’

  While Mabel made coffee, the three men discussed the case.

  ‘So what’s next then?’ she heard Fisher ask as she climbed the stairs with the tray of drinks.

  ‘We need to identify any car club members who might have been scammed by the Gains. Someone needs to ring each one, ask what car they have and if any of them have or had a Morris Traveller or Volvo PS1800s, then we need to interview them.’

  ‘I can do that,’ said Fisher.

  ‘Great. Elgin can you do online searches please. Where would the Gains advertise the two cars?’

  ‘On-line sites, classic car groups, that sort of thing you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. See if there’s any talk about someone scamming in the classic car community. You know what the internet is like these days. Print off anything that looks related to our case.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Flynn stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

  ‘Where are you off to then?’ Fisher asked.

  ‘Mabel and I are off to see the Gains’ mechanic.’

  Chapter 20

  ‘Mabel,’ said Flynn once they were on the pavement outside the police station. ‘Do you know where we’re going?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ she said. ‘I was brought up here. And anyway, he advertises in the library. You know, a card on the community notice board.’

  ‘Oh, right, I’ve never noticed.’

  Mabel just lifted an eyebrow and started walking. Weaving round side streets and into the older part of Muddlebay, Flynn began to see signs of decay. Every other shop seemed to be closed down and the only open ones were for second-hand furniture and charity shops. Signs were faded by the sun and in some cases falling off. They passed an old-fashioned hardware store, the sort where Flynn’s father would go and come back with a brown paper bag of nails. Then a corner shop that doubled up as a newsagent, with so many boards outside they had to cross the road as the pavement was blocked. The whole area reeked of desperation. Then Mabel turned down a side street that was nothing more than a single track. At the end was a ramshackle cluster of buildings, all broken concrete and brick and tin roofs. Hanging from a nail was a sign swaying slightly in the breeze. Slaughter and Son.

  Mabel approached the door and as they peered into the gloom called, ‘Kevin? Are you there?’

  There was a clatter of spanners on the floor and a rustle of overalls, and a diminutive man walked over to them, cleaning his hands on an oily rag.

  ‘Oh, it’s you Mrs Heggarty,’ said Kevin. ‘What can I do for you? I didn’t know you had a car,’ and the man looked around the empty area in front of his garage.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Mabel said. ‘This here is Flynn Moran, the local detective.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  Kevin held out a filthy hand, which Flynn declined to shake.

  ‘So, what’s this all about then?’

  ‘It’s about the death of that couple. The ones found at the motor show,’ explained Mabel.

  ‘So? What’s that got to do with me?’ Slaughter frowned.

  ‘We understand you serviced his cars?’

  ‘Me?’ His body stiffened and he was beginning to look uncomfortable.

  ‘Yes, Kevin, you,’ said Mabel.

  Kevin shook his head, his grey bristly hair not moving an inch. His mouth turned downwards, and his brow creased into a frown. ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘That’s strange,’ said Flynn. ‘Only we found a couple of invoices from you for work done on a Morris Traveller in Mr and Mrs Gains’ house.’

  Somewhere under the grime on his face, Kevin’s cheeks flamed red.

  ‘Oh them! Sorry I hadn’t made the connection. Yes, I serviced the Morris if I remember correctly.’

  ‘What else did you do for them?’ Flynn’s voice hardened.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Made up number plates? Forged DVLA paperwork?’ Flynn flung accusations at the man.

  ‘Now look here…’

  ‘Don’t get all hot under the collar, Kevin, we’re just asking,’ said Mabel. ‘How many years have you been here?’

  As Mabel engaged the mechanic in conversation, Flynn walked around the garage. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for but decided he might recognise it if he saw it.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t see any clues lying around and his perusal was spotted by the mechanic.

  ‘Oy, what do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Me?’ Flynn tried to look innocent. ‘Nothing. Just looking.’

  ‘Well stop looking. I’d like you to leave now. I’ve work to do.’

  Nodding, the two friends walked away leaving Kevin glowering after them.

  ‘Did that help?’ asked Mabel.

  ‘Not really,’ said Flynn, crushed. ‘And the trouble, Mabel, is that if there is any evidence, he’ll get rid of it now. Now he knows we’re interested in him.’

  Flynn kicked a stone off the pavement in frustration.

  ‘You didn’t really expect him to confess there and then, did you?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  ‘Exactly. So, let’s just get on with it. Fisher and Elgin might have come up with something by the time we get back.’

  And Mabel strode away leaving Flynn scurrying after her.

  Chapter 21

  But it was Mr Leith from the DVLA who had more information for Flynn, not Fisher and Elgin.

  ‘Ah, DS Moran, glad I’ve caught you,’ he said. ‘We’ve been pooling information over here and as one of my colleagues confirmed, as modern cars have become more resistant to crude identity changes, criminals have found other ways to disguise a car’s identity and cloning is one of the most popular.’

  ‘How does it work?’ Flynn asked eagerly.

  ‘It involves applying an apparently honest identity to another car, which is usually stolen. By swapping the number plates, registration document and even the VIN the vehicle identification number. Criminals will try anything to convince an unsuspecting purchaser that the car is genuine.’

  ‘So, if I’ve got this right, car cloning – or vehicle identity theft – is when a car is given a new number plate, replicating another vehicle of the same make, model and colour?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, the number plate or identity wouldn’t just be a random choice of number plate.’

  ‘Oh, no, these criminals are too savvy for that.’

  ‘I see.’

  What Flynn was starting to see was that this was no longer a couple of small transactions down in Muddlebay, but a much wider practice, by seasoned criminals. He was beginning to wonder where the Gains had come from and how long they’d been doing this?

  But Mr Leith was still talking. ‘They might use the car to commit a robbery or to avoid speeding fines and parking tickets. They might even use fake plates to sell a stolen car to an unsuspecting buyer. All they need is a new number plate. If you’re buying a new number plate, the law says you have to supply a V5C vehicle registration certificate or other proof of ownership. But rogue online dealers often sell number plates without asking for evidence.’

  ‘Or your local friendly oily rag.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Had anyone ever complained about my two cars?’

  ‘A couple, but not lately. I’ll send you through the details. Not everyone complains you know.’

  ‘No?’ Flynn was incredulous.

  ‘No, they’re too embarrassed. Or they don’t have the car anymore.’

  ‘Because it might have been stolen?’

  ‘Yes. It might have been stolen. So they just report that, tell the insurance company and hope they get paid out.’

  ‘What happens if they don’t?’

  ‘You mean what happens if you buy a cloned car? If you buy a cloned car, you’ll lose both the car and the money you paid for it. So if you’re buying a used car, make sure you do all the necessary checks. If a car’s being sold without V5C registration documents or a service history, that’s a definite red flag. But these documents can be forged, so be vigilant. And it’s really important to check the vehicle identification number (VIN) and engine number and make sure these match the logbook. The VIN is usually stamped into the chassis of the vehicle.

  ‘But people don’t always do that.’

  ‘No, they don’t and that’s a big boon for the criminals.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Leith, you’ve been very informative. It’s certainly opened my eyes to the scams that can go on.’

  ‘You’re welcome. If I come up with anything else, I’ll be in touch.’

  As Flynn replaced the receiver, he hoped Mr Leith wouldn’t come up with anything else. At least nothing else that related to Muddlebay. He had quite enough on his plate as it was.

  Chapter 22

  ‘Ah, Flynn, glad I’ve caught you.’

  Flynn had just answered a call from Jerome. ‘Have you any news for me?’

  ‘Yes, do I ever,’ said Jerome. ’I’ve had the Volvo processed and there was definitely a fault with the car which pushed CO2 into it. A failing exhaust meant fumes seeped into the car from holes in the chassis.’

  ‘And that’s bad?

  ‘You bet. Hundreds of people die each year from carbon monoxide poisoning caused by a running vehicle inside a closed garage. Others die or become ill in homes with attached garages. Also while stranded in their car, or while driving or riding in a vehicle with a defective exhaust system.’

  ‘You’ll have to help me out here, Jerome,’ said Flynn. ‘Why are defective exhaust systems so dangerous?’

  ‘Internal combustion gasoline engines produce extremely high carbon monoxide concentrations. Even a properly tuned gasoline engine, will produce more than 30,000 parts per million (ppm) of CO2 in the exhaust stream before the catalytic converter. An exhaust leak can allow escape of CO2 before it is converted to non-toxic CO2 in the catalytic converter. And, bear in mind, the classic cars don’t have a catalytic converter. So, the CO2 leaking from the exhaust system can enter the vehicle through holes in the body or open windows or doors. Exhaust systems must be gas tight from the engine to the end of the tailpipe.’

  ‘And this one wasn’t?’

  ‘No, and high concentrations of carbon monoxide can kill in less than five minutes. And that’s why carbon monoxide is called the silent killer.’

  Flynn was left pondering the whole exhaust system thing. Was this just an accidental death? But if so, stashing the bodies in the boot didn’t make sense. But then again, if it was a deliberate act of murder, then maybe putting the bodies in the boot would mean a delay in them being found, giving the killer a few hours to cover his tracks.

  The trouble was that Flynn had no idea who’d done it. He had a pool of suspects, but many of them were far away. It therefore made more sense to concentrate on any locals who had come into contact with the Gains. Didn’t it?

  Determined to do just that, gave Flynn another investigative path to follow, pushing to the back of his mind the niggling thought that he could be making a massive mistake.

  Chapter 23

  Standing up, Flynn made his way to the stairs, only to find them blocked by Elgin.

  ‘Ah, Flynn, just the chap. We’ve found something on CCTV. Come on,’ and Elgin turned around and clattered back down the stairs.

  Following at a more sedate pace, being careful not to lose his footing on the steep narrow staircase, Flynn entered the back office of the station. He found Fisher and Elgin clustered around a computer monitor.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ said Fisher. ‘We’ve got the saved CCTV from the monitoring centre. We’ve found the Volvo and it looks as though Mr and Mrs Gains were in it.’

  ‘Move out of the way then, let me see.’

  Fisher moved and Elgin took the computer mouse.

  ‘Here,’ he pointed to the screen. ‘That’s them there.’

  Flynn watched as the Volvo flitted from camera to camera. They were able to follow the Gains from the moment they entered the town. They cruised along the esplanade before turning into a side street, where the car parked up and Mrs Gains got out.

  ‘What are they doing?’ asked Flynn.

  ‘Fish and chips,’ said Fisher.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Buying fish and chips. Mrs Gains comes back about 10 minutes later carrying a bag from The Plaice,’ he clarified.

  And so she did. The car moved once again, retracing its steps to the esplanade, and then disappeared.

  ‘What? Where have they gone?’ Flynn wanted to know.

  ‘We don’t see them again,’ said Elgin. ‘They didn’t drive back home. They couldn’t have avoided the cameras. We’d have picked them up somewhere on the way back.’

 

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