Larry got out of the car, opened the door for Stanford, shook his hand and wished him well. Before leaving, Stanford walked around to Wendy’s side of the car, opened her door and thanked her.
As he shuffled down the street, Larry and Wendy could only see a tired old man.
***
Jacob had attempted to make the phone call, but with his hands shaking so much it was impossible until he had drunk two whiskies to calm him down. He had not only known Stephen Palmer and Liz Spalding; he had also known Hamish McIntyre in the past when he’d lived in the area at the start of his career. He had been just a local hoodlum then, but Jacob knew him well enough to occasionally have a chat and a drink in the pub with him.
Outside the pub, Jacob lit a cigarette. He punched in the number; at the other end of the line, a phone rang. It was answered by a man Jacob didn’t know.
‘Can I talk to Mr McIntyre?’ Jacob said. ‘It’s a matter of some importance.’
‘You can tell me.’
‘I prefer to talk to Mr McIntyre. Someone’s been nosing around, asking questions. I thought he should know.’
‘Are you looking for money?’
‘Money for information, no way. All I want is a quiet life.’
‘Smart man,’ Armstrong said. ‘I’ll get him for you.’
Armstrong walked through the house, found Hamish watching the news on the television. He handed over the phone. ‘It’s for you,’ he said. ‘Someone sticking their nose in.’
Hamish took the phone and put it to his ear. ‘What is it?’
‘Hamish, long time,’ Jacob said.
‘Get to the point.’
‘Jacob Wolfenden. We used to get together years ago, down the pub, have a chat.’
‘Oh, yes, I remember. How are you?’
‘All the better for talking to you. Someone’s been asking questions, and I don’t want to be involved.’
‘Trouble for me?’
‘There’s a man who says he’s related to someone who died a long time ago.’
‘Give me the facts and don’t worry, Jacob.’
‘He’s asking about a woman with a butterfly tattoo, just above her wrist on the inside of her arm.’
Hamish remembered when Samantha had come home drunk one night, the tattoo proof that she had made a fool of herself.
‘Why does he want to know?’ Hamish asked. He had been sitting down before, but now he was up and walking around. Jacob, he knew, was a man who never asked questions, and had never committed an illegal activity in his life.
‘He believes that the woman…’ Jacob said, unwilling to mention the name.
‘We know who we're talking about here, don’t we?’ McIntyre said.
‘I didn’t want to say her name.’
‘Fair enough, Jacob. You’re safe with me. Nothing will happen to you. Now tell me the full story.’
‘Palmer believes this woman is involved in the death of another woman.’
‘The other woman?’
‘Liz Spalding.’
‘I see. Where can we find him?’
‘He’s been in the pub a couple of times, a damn nuisance. Kept asking me questions, not that I gave him any answers. Sure, I mentioned that I knew his brother, Stephen; Liz as well. When he started asking piercing questions, I backed off and went and sat on my own.’
Wolfenden decided it was best not to tell McIntyre that he had warned Palmer to back off.
‘The next day, he grabbed me in the street,’ Jacob continued. ‘Dragged me into an alley. I was scared, but I wasn’t going to talk. In the end, I got away. What should I do?’
‘Where can I find this individual?’ McIntyre said, the emphasis making it clear to Jacob that Palmer had trouble coming his way.
‘I haven’t seen him since, but it was only an hour or so ago. I tried to phone before, but I needed to calm my nerves.’
‘You had my number?’
‘I’ve had it for many years.’
McIntyre thought that was possible. He hadn’t changed the number on his phone for a long time. And Jacob, an insignificant man, he trusted.
‘Go back to the pub, go back to your drink. Let me know if you see this man or you have any idea where he is.’
Hamish put the phone down and called to Gareth. ‘There’s a man asking questions. I want you to find out who he is and grab him.’
‘Where do I find him?
‘Get down to the Stag Hotel, find Jacob Wolfenden. Don’t threaten him, he’s okay with me. He’ll update you.’
‘Do you trust him?’
‘The man knows who I am and what I can do. Find out who the other man is, put out feelers, ask around. But don’t be too obvious.’
‘And when I find him?’
‘Keep tabs on him. The police are not far behind. He may have spoken to them and told them things he shouldn’t have.’
‘And then?’
‘I’ll need to consider the options, but don’t let on that you know anything that can help him. Is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ Gareth said.
Chapter 25
Down in Cornwall, Jim Greenwood was keeping the team updated, questioning the locals, trying to find out if there had been a car in the area at the time of the woman’s death that didn’t belong to a local. But that was a needle in a haystack approach, Greenwood knew. The village was scenic; it attracted more than its fair share of tourists, some staying at the local hotel or a campsite up the road, others walking down by the harbour, taking a few pictures, and then driving on to the next tourist attraction.
‘I believe Charles Stanford,’ Wendy said in the office at Challis Street. ‘He was telling the truth this time.’
‘If he was,’ Isaac said, ‘what can we do with this information? We can’t go asking McIntyre directly if he made a phone call on a specific date to an individual about a crime at Bedford Gardens, can we?’
‘We have to somehow,’ Larry said.
Isaac was pleased that the man had turned the corner. He hadn’t been sure that Larry would succeed, as alcohol is seductive to some, but so far, he had. It was in large part due to his wife’s encouragement and that of his colleagues in the department. The danger was when everyone became complacent.
‘We can speculate,’ Isaac said. ‘Why would McIntyre be interested in Marcus Matthews’ body being discovered? If he hadn’t killed him, which we know he hadn’t, then why did he want the body found? And how long had he known that it was there?’
‘It had been six years,’ Larry said. ‘Did he know that it had been there for all that time? And if he did, why hadn’t he told his daughter? We’ve got more questions than answers.’
‘Is there a question?’ Bridget said. ‘I couldn’t find out who made the phone call to Stanford. If Hamish McIntyre knew the body was there, then he knows the murderer. Do you have knowledge of his associates, the sort of person who could commit murder?’
‘McIntyre’s associates wouldn’t have gone through such a convoluted exercise. And they wouldn’t have entered into any sort of agreement with Matthews,’ Isaac said. We’ve discussed this before, we’re looking for an ethical man, a man of strong morals.’
‘A criminal with a conscience,’ Larry said.
‘Not necessarily a criminal. We know that Matthews, apart from his criminal activities, had a strong social bent, an underlying ethic.’
‘Doesn’t help,’ Larry said. He couldn’t see their conversation going anywhere. If McIntyre was important, then he needed to be pressured.
‘Hassle McIntyre, is that what you’re thinking, Larry?’ Isaac said. They had worked together for some years now. He knew instinctively what Larry would be thinking. He was a bull in a china shop type of police officer, the sort that goes in guns blazing, although Isaac knew that wasn’t the best analogy, as no police officer was armed unless they had the authority. They’d had a case a couple years back when the need to carry weapons had been agreed to. Larry had taken one for a while, so had Isaac, but he had
never been comfortable with the idea. Wendy had refused. In the end, the man who had killed four came meekly, and no weapons had been necessary.
‘How else do you expect us to get to the bottom of this?’
‘Where is Stanford now? Back in his home?’
‘We’ve got Wally Vincent keeping tabs on him. He went around to check the other day, even got an invite in for a cup of tea. Stanford’s turned over a new leaf, although Wally’s not confident it will last.’
‘A clear conscience?’ Wendy said.
‘Stanford thought that McIntyre may be involved with the trafficking of women.’ Isaac said.
‘It will be almost impossible to prove,’ Larry said. ‘And besides, what would he have done? It’s usually the gangsters back in the country of origin who are responsible.’
‘He could have financed the transportation, ensured that the lorries they were coming in on had been modified for the transportation of human cargo. He could have dealt with the drivers, bribed them as necessary, threatened others. And once the women were in the country, he could have arranged the safe houses. Any sign of occupation at Bedford Gardens?’
‘We’ve all seen the report from the crime scene investigation team,’ Larry said. ‘No one has lived in that house for a long time.’
‘Before that?’
‘Dust accumulates over the years, and everyone would have been looking at the period pertinent to the crime.’
‘Who owned it before him? Check it out, talk to them. See if there’s anything untoward.’
‘The locals might have seen something,’ Bridget said.
‘People mind their own business, you know that,’ Larry said. ‘If they had been slipping women in late at night, one or two at a time, and confining them to a room, keeping them quiet, nobody would have noticed anything. Nobody had seen Charles Stanford go in there eleven months ago.’
‘Larry’s right,’ Isaac said. ‘People are blind, and if it doesn’t affect them directly, they don’t get involved. What happens if people see something that makes them feel uncomfortable? Do they report it to the police, or do they walk on by?’
‘Walk on by most of the time,’ Wendy said. She had had a car stolen from outside her house one night. A man walking his dog later admitted that he had seen the felon, thought nothing of it, even though the man had a crowbar on the door handle. It was human nature, she knew that. Mind your own business, look out for yourself, and endeavour to have a peaceful life.
‘I’ll find out what I can about the house,’ Bridget said. ‘Give me a couple of hours, and I should have something for you.’
‘In the meantime,’ Isaac said, ‘McIntyre. We need to revisit him, but we need to be very careful.’
***
Armstrong followed Hamish McIntyre’s instructions, up to a point. He wasn’t going to harm Jacob, Hamish had been clear on that, but there was no reason why he could not scare the man. Too many years in prison had made him distrustful of anyone until proven to the contrary.
He had drawn up alongside Jacob. Hamish had described how he had remembered him, skinny, looked like a weasel.
Armstrong leant out the window of the Mercedes. ‘Jacob, over here,’ he said.
‘What for?’
‘We spoke on the phone.’
‘Hamish?’
‘The name’s Gareth, Gareth Armstrong. I work for the man. He told me you’re a good person. Someone I should talk to.’
‘I don’t want any trouble.’
‘There’s no trouble getting into the car, is there?’
Jacob knew he didn’t want to, but the man had influence with Hamish McIntyre. To not get into the car would be pure folly, he thought.
Pulling away from the kerb, Armstrong accelerated into the traffic and headed away from the area.
‘We could talk over a pint,’ Jacob said, making small talk. He regretted phoning Hamish. ‘But if you fancy a cup of coffee. I’m easy either way.’
Armstrong could see that the man wasn’t comfortable. It was the effect he wanted.
‘It won’t take long. We need somewhere private. I need to know more details of what you said to Hamish.’
‘I told him all I could. Just that this Palmer was looking for a woman, nothing more.’
‘So, what’s the connection?’
‘What did Hamish tell you to do?’
‘He told me to find Palmer, find out what he was talking about, why he was interested.’
The car was moving fast; soon, they would be in the country. Jacob knew this was not a friendly little chat. This wasn’t what Hamish McIntyre had said would happen.
The car came to a halt outside an old barn. Gareth got out of the car, went around to the other side, grabbed the man by his collar and pulled him roughly into the barn.
‘You may have told Hamish a story, but I’m looking out for him. I need to know more,’ Armstrong said.
‘There is no more,’ Jacob bleated as he was roughly thrown to the ground. The place smelled of animals and hay, and he suffered from allergies. ‘There’s no more to say. I told Hamish all I knew.’
‘Okay, let’s get back to where we were. Palmer, what does he look like?’
‘Nothing special, nothing like his brother. An irritating whine to his voice. Mr McIntyre won’t like you holding me here. He promised me that I would be safe.’
‘I needed to know you were telling the truth. Mr McIntyre looks after me well. I’m not going to let anyone, not you, not even Palmer, get in the way of that. You met Palmer in the pub, I know that much.’
‘In the pub, yes. He was interested in his brother and Liz Spalding. The barman called me over. He knew that I’d lived in the area for a long time and that I probably knew them.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes, I did. Stephen was a good guy. Liz was the sort of woman men lusted over, but she was keen on Stephen. Only he was a player; he had other women on the side, couldn’t help himself.’
‘The other women?’
‘Palmer thought one of them was involved in the death of Liz Spalding. I told Mr McIntyre this much. I never mentioned her name.’
‘For your own protection?’
‘What else could I do? I remember Hamish when he used to live in the area. Back then, he was on the way up. He had a few girls turning tricks in an old hotel up the road, buying and selling whatever, making a name for himself.’
‘Do you believe this woman murdered Liz Spalding?’
The situation was calmer. Jacob got up off the ground and sat on a bale of hay. Armstrong sat across from him on another bale.
‘I don’t get involved. Palmer thought there was a connection and he wanted to find the woman. I wouldn’t talk to him. He knows that I know who she is.’
‘Who is it then?’
‘Did Mr McIntyre ask you to find the name of the woman?’
‘Not directly.’
‘He knows who it is. If I tell you and it gets back to Mr McIntyre, he’ll not be pleased.’
‘And if you don’t tell me, I’ll make sure to tell him that you were difficult.’
Armstrong sat for a moment. He looked around at their surroundings, realised that the countryside and he did not agree. Even so, he had managed to wangle himself an easy job at the last prison, out on the prison farm.
‘This is not what Mr McIntyre agreed to, is it?’ Jacob said.
‘Not entirely, but he wants me to find Palmer. And if Palmer is looking for this woman and he makes the connection, that’s where I’ll find him. And if the woman is important to Hamish, he won’t thank me if she comes to any harm.’
‘I thought he’d be in the pub again. He was angry and wanted to hit me, but he couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘As I said, Stephen was a dynamic sort of person, a person you could look up to, but his brother had nothing going for him. He said he was fond of Liz, but I reckon it was more than that. He was the sort of man who would have been pining after his brother’s girlfriend
s, never getting one, feeling the frustration.’
‘Jacob, work with me, and we’ll find Palmer.’
‘Nothing criminal. Maybe I’ve been a fool all my life, but I’ve not done anything. It’s probably the reason why I never amounted to much in life, but it suits me fine now. As long as I can afford a drink and lunch out occasionally, then I’m content.’
‘I’m content as well,’ Armstrong said. ‘Hamish has treated me well, given me somewhere to live, a nice motor to drive, money in my pocket. I want for nothing, and I’m not going to let him down. Anything that helps me to find this Palmer, I need to know. Now, who is this mysterious woman?’
‘It’s his daughter,’ Jacob said reluctantly.
‘Samantha?’
‘He’s only got the one.’
‘Let’s go, Jacob. Do you know where he was staying?’
‘No idea. Each time I met him, it was either in the pub or on the street. He’s not a local, I know that.’
Armstrong helped Jacob up from his seat, and the two men drove away. Half a mile down the road, a pub. A couple of pints later, a good feed, and all had been forgotten. Jacob was still frightened. A misinterpretation, a wrong word, and Hamish McIntyre would be after him.
Chapter 26
The pieces in the puzzle were coming together, Isaac could see that. Down in Cornwall, Jim Greenwood was performing well, as was Wally Vincent in Brighton. Soon enough, somebody, somewhere, would make the connection, or else one of the murderers would make a mistake.
Hamish McIntyre was out in his mansion, Samantha at his side; Gareth Armstrong not far away.
Gareth updated Hamish on his conversation with Jacob Wolfenden, omitting that he had roughed the man up.
Bridget set up a phone conference, dialled in Greenwood and Vincent. The team were in the conference room at Challis Street.
‘I’ve not given up down here,’ Greenwood said. ‘I’ve still got some ground to cover although nobody in Polperro seems to know very much. Mrs Venter, the last person to see Liz Spalding alive, believes she did see another woman.’
DCI Isaac Cook Box Set 2 Page 110