Freeman said to Greene, ‘When was the last offence?’
The detective inspector pressed a key and the pages flipped electronically.
‘The eighteenth of April this year, Peterborough magistrates. Six months for shoplifting, suspended for twelve.’
‘And our first sighting of him is around the middle of May, which makes sense. He must have plenty of shopliftings if they’d reached the point of giving him time for it.’
‘He does, ma’am, and other minors, too. Dishonestly obtaining, criminal damage, drunk and disorderly in public spaces. The list goes on, and back more than ten years.’
Freeman straightened up and studied the information on the display boards. After a moment she said, ‘But nothing else in Kings Lake? No sign he’d made a nuisance of himself here?’
Greene double-checked – ‘No, ma’am.’
She said, ‘A bit of an unfortunate fresh start, then. Can you get this summarised for the team, Tom? Say for two o’clock. I’m going to call them back in now. And we’ll need pictures again.’
Greene said, ‘Not a problem. I’ll get hard copies as well. I thought I’d mention that because you’ll get a bill for printer-use at some point. There’s a memo from DCS Allen’s office saying that all departments are now responsible for their own consumable resources, effective from last Monday.’
Freeman shook her head a little but could not have looked any less surprised if she had tried. She said to Greene, ‘OK. But why do you produce hard copies? I mean, everyone has tablets. And phones and laptops.’
‘Back-up, ma’am. IT systems break down, paper doesn’t.’
She thought and then said, ‘A piece of paper could catch fire though, couldn’t it? There’s all sorts of ways a piece of paper can go wrong.’
He was frowning and she was thinking, I mustn’t do that, I need to choose my moments more carefully but it was too late. Greene said, ‘True, ma’am, but I’ve never known multiple copies combust simultaneously. Once they are dispersed, it’s very unli-’
‘Briefing at two then, Tom. Print away. Do a copy for Allen – we’ll bill his office for it.’
Back at her desk, she thought he’s just what I needed, just what I’d hoped for, but when you get that in life, there’s a price to pay. There’s always a price to pay.
At three minutes to two o’clock, everyone was back in the room and seated. Waters listened as Murray told Serena the good news: ‘His hearing is perfect – they tested him every which way, Maggie said. The audiologist said he’s seen it before, it’s nothing to worry about. Some kids develop selective listening early. They realise that if they pretend not to hear, they don’t have to do what they don’t want to… The audiologist said these are often very bright kids.’
Serena frowned and said, ‘I don’t know about that. Sounds like just a normal bloke to me. But it’s good that his ears are working…’
Then she turned her attention to Waters. ‘And it’s good that you’ve finally taken my advice and found yourself a new interest. I’m just not sure it’s one that will actually encourage you to get out more.’
Asking questions would just encourage her – similarly, not asking questions would not prevent her from saying what she intended to say. Waters waited with his resigned look. Murray was almost smiling which meant he had a good idea what this was about.
Serena said, ‘I mean, I think you can take evening classes in it but I’m not sure what sort of people you’d actually meet there. Mostly ladies over fifty?’
About a minute to go, and Freeman liked to be on time. Obviously there had been developments, and Greene was getting up with a fistful of handouts. Waters looked at Serena and said, ‘Go on.’
‘Flower-arranging? You’ll need to work on your sense of colour and proportion. Your flat’s pretty much beige and magnolia. Very dated, actually. Do the women in Flower Power do home visits?’
Murray was the source of this leak. Waters looked at him and saw only an innocent smile – another one? Murray had smiled more in the last hour than he had in the past three weeks; that’s what worrying about your children does to you.
Waters said to Serena, ‘Don’t worry. If I need advice about style, I know where to go.’ Then he looked at Murray and said, ‘Maya’s always beautifully turned out, isn’t she?’
Serena’s eyes went a little frosty. Sterling’s team were seated at the other table but the girl had heard her name mentioned – she looked across at Waters and he wondered whether she had picked up exactly what he’d said.
‘OK then, people!’
As Freeman got their attention, Greene was passing papers across the tables. Waters recognised the face straight away.
Freeman said, ‘Meet Neville Murfitt. I’m not going to insult anyone by reading aloud what’s on the paper in front of you – I’m going to assume you can read it while listening. We now have another trail to follow, and at least to begin with, it’s a well-worn one. Some of us will be going back onto the streets and showing another photo around. People are going to say, yes, that’s Michael, the Army veteran. It could get confusing. We don’t know at what exact point in time Neville decided to become Michael, and we don’t know how it happened. We do know that up until April of this year, Neville was in the Peterborough area, Tom’s old patch, busy getting arrested and convicted as himself. Witnesses from Eden Street have said it was around the middle of May that ‘Michael’ turned up there. This is useful. It’s my guess that during the time between his last conviction in Peterborough and his appearance on Eden Street – roughly three weeks – Neville acquired that ID card and his new street identity. From that, questions follow.’
Freeman paused, giving them time. Waters finished skimming through the document and looked around; everyone else was reading except for Maya Kumar. She was staring at him again, and held his eyes for a second or two. She must have heard what he’d said to John Murray. Was there any way he could apologise without making things worse?
Freeman continued, ‘These questions include, did Neville Murfitt meet Michael Wortley in person? He might not have done so – the card could have been given or sold to him by a third party. He might have just picked it up but we don’t believe Wortley was the sort to throw such a thing away. If they met, where was it? Have we been looking for Wortley in the wrong place? Was he in Peterborough? Maybe Wortley has never been within thirty miles of Lake. Next question. Who was the target? We have one man and two identities. Which one did the two perpetrators think they were stabbing? Is there anything in Murfitt’s history that might make him the victim of an attack like that? Personally, I can’t see it but we have to go consider the possibility because it’s the simplest, most obvious explanation and we never ignore those.
‘Wortley appears to have left no traces in Lake, if he ever was here at all. No one from the Eden Street area has recognised the photograph of him in uniform. Serena, anything at all from the support organisations or charities?’
‘No, ma’am. We’ve contacted every one of them in person now. I know it would have been a few months ago but they’d have remembered someone like Michael Wortley, I’m sure.’
Freeman wasn’t afraid to let you see she was thinking, that she didn’t have all the answers. She signalled to Greene and he put the digital file onto the whiteboard. Neville Murfitt’s unhappy mugshot, life-sized now, stared back at them all, as if in reproach. After a few seconds, Cara Freeman stood up and pushed her hands into her jeans pockets in an oddly masculine gesture. She stared at the screen a little longer.
‘Right. Let’s divide this up as best we can. Denise, your team moves on to Neville Murfitt. Let’s put his photo here, there and everywhere. Chris, you stay on Michael Wortley. Tom, focus on the two suspects, which I know is a polite euphemism, but that’s me, polite to a T. See if anything like them has appeared in any other recent incidents in the county, look at all stabbings over the past two years. You know the sort of thing, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’ll track down
Murfitt’s family – hopefully I can get the body identified formally at the second attempt. Fifteen minutes to put your heads together, come up with a plan and report back to us.’
Serena said, ‘We got the short end of the stick,’ but she said it quietly.
Waters responded – ‘In what way?’
‘We know Neville Murfitt was there on the streets – actually there for months. There’ll be plenty to find. As she said, Wortley might never have been in Lake at all. We’re looking through a haystack for a needle that was probably never there.’
John Murray was reading through Greene’s latest file again. At the other table a conversation was underway and Denise was making notes – even Maya had something to say. Serena was right, of course. There was no evidence that Michael Wortley had ever walked down a street in Kings Lake, and they had to think differently about how to find him. His brother had seemed honest, and said he hadn’t heard from Michael since New Year’s Eve, almost nine months ago. Families fall apart all the time, but even so… Nine months? Was Wortley just drifting around and unintentionally invisible, or was there another explanation?
Waters said, ‘Did you ever check out the mobile number James Wortley gave us? The one he said stopped working?’
Serena looked at Murray before she answered, ‘Me? No. Why would I? Nobody asked me to!’
She was still put out by his earlier remark about Maya. Waters smiled to let her know that he knew she was, and that he wasn’t bothered – he had great respect for her ability to bounce back from life’s harsh blows.
He said, ‘Let’s do that. We’ll treat Michael Wortley as a missing person and go through those protocols.’
Murray looked up and said, ‘I was thinking the same thing. He’s on an Army pension. That’s being paid into a bank account, and he’s not living on fresh air, wherever he is. If he’s drawing on that account and we can find it, we’ll know where to start looking. Tell the Army personnel man what’s happened and that we’re growing concerned for Wortley’s welfare – they might hand it over.’
Waters said, ‘And his national insurance number. If he’s working legitimately and paying tax, HMRC will have something. Has he ever had a Facebook page? Any other social media presence? If so, has that all gone silent as well? If it has, we need to know when. Thinking about it, I’m not surprised his brother was concerned; Michael could be a victim as well, couldn’t he?’
This was a new thought for all three of them.
Serena said, ‘The NCA have the Missing Persons Bureau database. They can cross-match missing person profiles with unidentified bodies and remains.’
Waters added that to the list. They had the short end of the stick all right but it might turn out to be the most interesting one.
When Waters telephoned and asked the question, Major Fogarty said he was relieved Michael Wortley wasn’t dead but sorry he could not be more helpful. Giving out financial information was above his pay grade. There would need to be a formal, written request and the decision would be made by a more senior officer.
‘Colonel Yates?’ Waters said pointedly, and Fogarty replied that it would probably go higher than that. Waters had learned from Smith that argument in such situations is usually pointless because the major was doing his job correctly, and the harder you push, the more correctly he will do it. He tried another approach.
‘Fair enough. I’ll get that underway. Does the paperwork come to you in the first instance?’
‘It might do so. I’ll progress it as quickly as I can. I’m sorry to make more work for you.’
‘That’s not a problem, Major. I imagine that for some personnel, security has to be maintained even when they leave the service.’
This was an opportunity for Fogarty to offer something more. He said in answer, ‘As regards financial information, the same rule would apply to any soldier leaving the service…’
Waters waited and was eventually rewarded.
‘But for those who have been involved in certain scenarios in the east, well, there is perceived to be an increased risk. Things have sometimes followed them home and had to be dealt with. We don’t make it easy for anyone to locate former soldiers.’
Waters said, ‘By the east, I’m assuming you mean Afghanistan.’
Fogarty was a cautious man. Waters remembered the private conversation after Colonel Yates had left the building – had he made a good enough impression on the major?
Eventually, Fogarty said, ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Could I ask one more question about Michael Wortley, Major?’
There was no answer but the officer stayed on the line.
‘Did he have an intelligence role at all?’
‘No, not to my knowledge. Wortley was operational, on the front line. He gathered intelligence but was not in intelligence. Will that be all?’
Waters checked that he could send an email to begin the process of requesting the details of the bank into which Michael Wortley’s pension was paid, and received an affirmative response but at some point important people would need to sign consent forms. When the call had finished, he sat back and thought. Remember Captain Hamilton? That had involved the war in Bosnia but the principle remained the same – fighting in a war half way around the world could have extraordinary consequences many years later. Waters touched his broken nose. He did so involuntarily every time he thought about his very first case at Kings Lake Central. And he had to smile whenever he recalled the stand-off between Hamilton and Smith in the bedroom of the house where Hana Subic had hidden her cousin Petar for so long. Remember the thug who had broken his nose crumpling inexplicably to the floor and Smith looking as surprised as everyone else at the turn of events?
Was it conceivable that Wortley too had become a target because of some horror in the deserts of Helmand province? It was the longest of shots and an idea he would keep to himself for now.
A few minutes later, Serena had a result in the matter of Wortley’s mobile phone, and it was a little unexpected; the mobile that James Wortley said had not been answered since last New Year’s Eve had been in operation until late in April.
Waters said, ‘When exactly? Have you got a date?’
She checked the screen in front of her.
‘April 23rd, 09.21. It’s a call to a landline number. That’s all I requested, the last activity, but we can get more out of this service provider.’
You develop a sixth sense. Waters had just heard a twig snap in the undergrowth of this investigation. In a couple of minutes, Freeman would ask her two sergeants to report on their plans. How much should he say? Detective Inspector Terek would have taken control of the mobile number himself.
Serena had perhaps misunderstood Waters’ silence. She said, ‘I know what DC would have done at this point,’ and he came back a little sharply with, ‘And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. I’m looking at the timing…’
Freeman was studying her own mobile, and then, without a word to anyone, she slipped out of the room. They had a little longer now.
Waters said, ‘Go on – call the last number.’
When she did so, Waters and Murray could hear an automated voice offering options. Serena listened and wrote down a note at the top of the file Greene had given out. Then she ended the call and said, ‘The Silver Star Taxi Company, Norwich.’
Murray gave a low whistle and said, ‘Bull’s-eye.’
Waters said, ‘As soon as we’re done here in this briefing, get back to them and find out what sort of records they keep. It’s five months ago but it’s a lead. And get everything you can out of the service provider. Is it a contract phone?’
She nodded and said that made a nice change from a burner, didn’t it?
‘And have you called Wortley’s number yourself? This morning?’
Serena looked hurt, as if he’d made an accusation. But she said, ‘Might’ve done…’
When Waters and Murray simply stared back at her, she said, ‘Unable to take your call. I�
�ve tried three times.’
John Murray said, ‘Wortley’s brother told us Michael had been working in security, in Norwich.’
Waters had already been there and was now moving on. He said to Murray, ‘A taxi? Why? Surely Wortley owned a car at some point in Bury. We haven’t looked at that, so get onto the DVLA and see what you can find. If there is one, the V5 form will have plenty of useful details. We should-’
‘Sorry, folks. I swear that wasn’t my hairdresser. But that’s self-evident, isn’t it?’
Freeman had the simplest of cuts, with no visible concession to a style or a trend; the more you noticed her, the more she seemed to exist in a slightly different space to most other relatively young women.
‘So,’ she said, ‘where are we now? Chris, your team’s plan.’
Waters summed it up briefly: the contract phone records that should be available shortly, the plan to ping Wortley’s mobile, the approach to vehicle licensing, the start of the process to obtain Wortley’s bank records, and he saved the best until last – that they had the name of a taxi company and the date on which Michael Wortley might have used that company in Norwich.
DCI Freeman looked at her watch and said, ‘And that’s all you’ve managed to come up with in the past twenty-five minutes?’
Waters glanced around and saw smiles and a respectful nod from Denise Sterling who had to follow on from that. Maya Kumar was staring at him again.
On Eden Street Page 14