Delany's Challenge

By David Tetlow

Josh Delany had, in a previous life, been a Special Forces officer for many years, leaving the army after being seriously injured, indeed almost killed whist abroad on active duty, saving the lives of others, and forcing him to leave the army he loved.
As a civilian, after witnessing very impressive police work by a friend, who brought the killer of his mother-in-law to justice, (described in the author’s previous book Delany’s Progess) he decided that his own future lay within that sphere.
Because of his previous experience he was a master of intrigue and disguise, having the ability to infiltrate gangs of serious criminals, become an excepted member of those groups and work with them until eventually when the time was right bringing them crashing down.
As time went on, he eventually had a very good relationship, indeed friendship with a lifetime small crook and old lag, Deuteronomy Golightly, who assisted him greatly on many occasions, sometimes in quite humorous circumstances.
He is also a dedicated family man, loving his wife Wendy and his two daughters. This book leads into the start of the author’s book Beware My Shadow, when Wendy and one of his daughters met brutal deaths. Had the killers been aware of the capabilities of Josh Delany, it is certain that they would have been much more careful.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Oct 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528999373

David Tetlow

David Tetlow was born in Rossendale, Lancashire during the Second World War. Following his school years, he worked as a mechanical engineer and later specialised in textile machinery research and development. He married Joyce in 1963 and has a son, daughter, four grandchildren and recently two great-grandchildren. He joined the Lancashire police in the late 1960s and completed most of his thirty years-service in the Greater Manchester police from which he retired as an investigating officer.

Book preview

About the Author

David Tetlow was born in Rossendale, Lancashire, during the Second World War. Following his school years, he worked as a mechanical engineer and later specialized in textile machinery research and development.

He is married to Joyce and has a son, a daughter and four grandchildren. He joined the Lancashire police during the 1960s and completed most of his thirty-year-service in Greater Manchester, where he retired as an investigating officer.

Dedication

To my family for their support.

Copyright Information ©

David Tetlow 2021

The right of David Tetlow to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528999366 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528999373 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2021

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

Level 37, Office 37.15, 1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

To Neil, Philip, Norman and Bernard, remembering the good times and bad.

Chapter One

It was 12.30 pm on a sunny Friday afternoon in early August, 1989. A tall bald-headed, shabbily dressed elderly man was standing near the railings of Brookfield High School watching the youngsters at play. Had he been seen by anyone in authority who approached him they would have smelled booze on his breath, and had they been aware that he had an extensive criminal record and knew none of the children in the playground, they would have been highly suspicious of his motives and may have called the police or, at least asked him to move along. In fact, they would have been wrong to do so.

His name was Deuteronomy Golightly. He hated his Christian name and insisted that people call him Baldy. For most of his adult life, he had been a habitual criminal; having numerous convictions for theft and burglary, and had spent many of his sixty-odd years in prison. He had now given up that lifestyle. The years had taught him to hate criminals who made their living through getting others, particularly young people, hooked on drugs.

That was the very reason he was watching. He knew that a boy called Sharp, who had been recently expelled from the school, was working for someone on the housing estate close to the school, and was selling cannabis over the school railings to a gang of boys. After watching them for a few days, he knew that Sharp was due that afternoon and he intended to step in and warn him off.

Just before the break time ended, he saw Sharp approach the railings and a group of boys in the playground go towards him. This is my moment, he thought. He was behind Sharp just before the boys reached him. He roughly pulled him around and said, ‘Go away. Leave these kids alone or I will report you to the police.’

Sharp who was a big brute of a lad at first looked shocked, then realised that he was faced by a man at least forty years older than himself. He simply pushed Baldy violently and kicked him when he fell, shouting, ‘Sod off you stupid old man.’

He turned away and carried on with his sale. By the time Baldy picked himself up, Sharp was gone, and the group of boys were laughing, pushing and joking with each other as they too walked away.

Baldy decided enough was enough, he had tried to be reasonable and deal with the matter himself. He later attended the local police station where he was put in touch with Constable Jackson, the school liaison officer, who thanked him for the information and assured him that he would act upon it.

On a Saturday evening, some weeks later, Baldy attended the Cock and Bottle public house in Markham on the outskirts of Preston as was his usual Saturday evening habit. He spent the evening in the taproom, as he always did, playing cards, dominos and darts and enjoying copious amounts of beer with the people he knew. He had no reason to notice two young men who were not regulars, sipping their drinks and watching him surreptitiously.

At 10.45 pm the landlord shouted, ‘Last orders gentlemen, please.’

Baldy ordered two more pints knowing that the boss was not that particular about closing on time, particularly on a Saturday evening. It was a little after midnight when he staggered from the pub for the half-hour walk along the country lane to his home.

He had been walking for about five minutes and was in a quiet spot with no street lighting when he heard a car coming up behind him. He stepped aside to allow the driver plenty of room to pass, but the car stopped along-side of him. Oh good, he thought, expecting a lift home.

The two young men who had been in the pub earlier got out of the car and approached Baldy, at which point he became very worried.

One of them shouted, ‘You’re the bastard who snitched on young Sharpie. That’s our business you’re playing with.’

He punched Baldy hard in the face. The two then grabbed hold of him and hurled him backwards away from the road onto the grass verge. Baldy was punched several times in the face and he fell to the ground, where he was kicked about the head and body until his senses were reeling. He lay there semi-conscious and vaguely heard one of them shout, ‘Let the bastard drown in the ditch, Billy.’

Just before he passed out, he heard one of them shout, ‘Kick him in Mark, and let’s get out of here; there’s a car coming.’

Baldy was kicked by both men and rolled into the ditch which was six inches deep in cold muddy water where he lay face down.

His two assailants jumped into their car and drove off at a fast speed before the approaching vehicle arrived, the driver of which did not notice anything untoward and drove quietly past.

The cold water suddenly and briefly brought Baldy back to some kind of consciousness. He lifted his head, coughing and spluttering and with great effort, he managed to raise his head out of the water and crawl partially onto the banking and with the words Mark and Billy whizzing round in his befuddled mind, after which he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

At 5 am that same morning, Alison Settle, a nurse, was walking her dog along the same banking prior to setting off to work at the Royal Preston Hospital when she saw what she immediately thought was a dead body lying in the ditch. She walked back a short distance to where she knew there was a telephone box and dialled 999 for an ambulance.

A few minutes later back at the body, she bent and noticed what she thought maybe a tiny breathing movement. Using a mirror, she confirmed that the old man was not yet dead, but not far off from being so. She dragged the body away from the ditch, laid him on his back, took off her coat and covered the body as best she could and commenced artificial respiration whilst awaiting the ambulance.

On arrival, the first ambulance man at the scene, not immediately recognising Alison from behind said, ‘Forget that love, he’s well gone.’

‘Number one, Jason Smith, I am not your love and number two, I believe that he is alive, barely, but alive. If you can’t do anything constructive, look after my dog.’

‘Sorry, Alison, love,’ he said despite her comment. ‘I’ll get blankets and a stretcher.’

She let the remark go and between them, they got him to the hospital where he was found indeed to be alive but in a very critical way. So much so that he was placed on a haemodialysis machine by Doctor Amis where the blood is slowly taken from the body, warmed then returned. It was lunchtime that day before he became conscious and despite the scepticism of the doctor, talking normally. Because of his extensive bruising, the police were called but Baldy would only say that he jumped out of the way of a speeding car and landed in the ditch.

And although the words Billy and Mark would not leave his mind, he kept them to himself.

Chapter Two

It was a beautiful Monday morning later that same month; sunny and warm, newly promoted Sergeant Josh Delany was driving to work at Preston Central Police Station. It was his first day in his new rank and he was apprehensive, to say the least. His first five years in the police since leaving the army had been very proactive and at times, dangerous in the extreme. He wondered what the next five years would bring.

On his arrival, he was ushered into the office of Superintendent McIntire, who welcomed him and informed him that initially, he would be working on C relief alongside Sergeant Anthony Cropper, who was in his last year of service. Cropper was performing duties as Charge Office Sergeant. Delany would be expected to work mainly outside, directing the constables in their duties.

Delany was delighted to be working with Cropper who he had previously worked with and whom he held in high esteem. He made his way downstairs to the charge office, where he met his new colleague.

‘Tony, I can call you Tony now that we are the same rank. Nice to meet up with you again.’

The two men had a convivial moment together before an elderly constable walked into the office from the enquiry office.

‘Sergeant Delany, I am Mike Hewlett, there’s a man here to see you. He says he knows you and that it is important that he speaks directly to you.’

‘Who is he?’ Enquired Delany.

‘Won’t give a name other than Baldy, but I’m sure I’ve seen him before.’

Delany’s heart sank. He knew exactly who Baldy was. He had arrested the man on two previous occasions for burglary. The last time he had seen Baldy was in a local open prison where Delany was under deep cover masquerading as a prisoner to infiltrate a gang of gun importers, and Baldy, who knew he was a police officer happened to be held in the same prison at the same time. He could have given Delany away and had he done so, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Fortunately, Baldy, even though he was a habitual criminal, had a hatred for guns as well as drugs and had assisted Delany.

Delany also knew that Baldy also had a hatred for his true first name given to him by his birth mother. He never used it and got angry with anyone who did.

Constable Hewlett escorted Baldy to the sergeant’s office and as he entered he said, ‘Sergeant Plod now. is it?’ Delany said, ‘Deu! Sorry, Baldy, what in blazes do you want?’ He was cut short.

‘Don’t ever go there,’ said Baldy.

‘What can I do for you?’

‘First of all, I can tell you, I am now going straight. I’m getting older and I have spent enough of my life in jail. You knew that when I helped you out in prison that I did it because I hate guns and gun runners.’

‘Yes, and I appreciated it at the time, believe me, you could